Page 18 of Ex-SEAL Bad Boy

I’m curious as to why he asked to meet me here rather than at his place or somewhere else.

It’s lovely here, quiet, secluded, almost romantic. Still, for some reason, I don’t think I’m going to like what he has to tell me.

He was very vague and said he couldn’t just explain it over the phone.

My dad once told me that if a person can’t explain what he wants you to do in one sentence, don’t trust him.

He believes that if someone has to put a spin on something, there has to be something wrong with it. That lesson has served me well over the years.

I have no doubt Ethan has had plenty of experience spinning things. He learned from the best.

I hear the low growl of a powerful engine approaching and recognize his car as it pulls into the little parking lot.

When I see him emerge, I feel a little jolt.

God, he is handsome.

Dressed in a pair of gray chinos and blue and white striped button down with the sleeves rolled up, he looks like he just stepped out of a Brooks Brother catalog.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he says, walking up and giving me an affectionate peck on the lips.

So classy ... and obviously an act.

I get it. We all play a part in life, and he plays his to the hilt. It’s part of what makes him so charming. But as Melanie so accurately noted, you have to be careful.

“I have a ...” he pauses, apparently choosing his words carefully, “proposition for you.”

“A proposition?”

He knows I’m wary.

“Before you pass judgment, please listen to what I have to say,” he requests.

“You haven’t said anything,” I point out. “But when you start out like that, you don’t inspire confidence.”

It suddenly hits me that this is what he brought me out here for. The seclusion, the beautiful scenery, him driving up in his fancy car. It's all a fucking seduction!

I should have known!

... and as theEsmeralda del Marsinks beneath the waves ...

It was too good to be true.

I wonder how many other women he's brought up here in the past, running the exact same scene.

Furious, I attempt to walk past him.

He grabs my arm as I pass. Tightly.

Oh, no, you did not just do that!

I'm about to lash out in fury, but he loosens his grip.

"Just—hear me out," he says softly. "If you want to leave and never see me again after that, I'll get out of your life, but I think you owe me that."

"Owe you?" I spit out. "Owe you for what? I don't recall you giving me anything."

"I did give you what's left of your life when I pulled you out of the surf."

---