Page 11 of Playboy

As the game continued, Playboy found it increasingly hard to concentrate. His eyes kept darting to the door every few minutes, his mind replaying the night they met, which was hard to believe it had been almost nine months ago—nine months of crushing on the beautiful and smart Coastie.

A few days after Leo’s party, he reached out to Oliver and asked him for some background on Gabby. At first, Oliver thought he was joking, but then he explained how he and Gabbyhad met, and Oliver was surprisingly onboard. When Playboy mentioned that he had never seen her before, Oliver told him that she had just joined the team a few months prior and kept to herself outside of work.

Playboy had been happy to learn that she wasn’t dating anyone. However, Oliver mentioned that she wasn’t much of a dater. He found out that she was a workaholic, which was fine because in his line of work, being a SEAL, his job had to be the top priority as well. Oliver said that the way to Gabby’s heart was through chocolate. Apparently, she was obsessed with chocolate.

Before they ended their conversation, Oliver had issued a warning to him, which Playboy found amusing. Oliver reminded him that Gabby was like a sister to everyone on the team and that if he hurt her, they would make his life miserable. Playboy told him that he understood. However, he had no intention of hurting her. At least intentionally.

Playboy mostly got the opportunity to say hi to her in passing when she came to Bayside on Friday nights. But the most interaction he’s had with her happened a few weeks ago at a charity gala, in which they were seated next to each other. He could thank his friend Alex for arranging that.

Playboy was completely lost in thought when Snow nudged his arm.

“It must be your lucky night. Look who just walked in.”

Turning his attention toward the entrance, Playboy’s heart skipped a beat as he saw Gabby standing just inside the door. She was dressed very casually in gray leggings that hugged her shapely legs and an oversized dark blue Coast Guard sweatshirt. She was looking around, and once she located her teammates sitting at a high-top table near the bar, she headed in their direction.

Even in the crowded room, she was like a beacon, cutting through the crowd effortlessly—well, almost. His eyes narrowedas he watched her move. At first glance, she seemed like her usual self, but there was something off in the way she walked.Was she limping?It wasn’t obvious to everyone, but he noticed. He could tell she was trying hard to hide it, but she was doing a terrible job of masking the pain every time she stepped with her left foot.

Aussie, who was sitting next to him, nudged his arm. “I wonder what happened to her.”

Snow followed Aussie’s gaze. “Whatever it is, it looks like it hurts pretty bad.”

Playboy’s eyes flicked back to Gabby just as she pushed through the last cluster of people, her eyes fixed on the table where her teammates were sitting. She turned her head slightly, and that’s when he saw something else.Is that a black eye?It was faint but definitely looked bruised. His stomach clenched. Something had definitely gone down, and now all he could think about was finding out what it was and making sure that she was okay.

He wasn’t the type to get nervous often, but suddenly, his palms felt a little clammy. He wanted to laugh at himself for feeling that way. Hell, he went into battle with the meanest people on earth and would never break a sweat. But a petite blonde-haired, blue-eyed pixie could bring him to his knees.

Should he walk over and ask her? Would she brush him off? He could never really tell with Gabby. One minute, she’d crack a joke with him, and the next, she’d be all business. He was about to push the thought aside when Aussie grinned and leaned over.

“Dude, you look like you’re about to pass out from thinking too hard. Why don’t you buy her a drink,” Aussie said, slapping him on the back. “Girls love a free drink. Plus, it looks like she could use a good drink.”

Playboy blinked, then gave a slow nod, smirking a little to cover his nerves. He knew just the drink to hopefully put a smile on her face. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

Snow raised his glass. “Good luck!”

Playboy laughed, but inside, his heart was racing as he flagged down a waitress.

???

As soon as Gabby entered Bayside, the familiar scent of seafood and the sound of laughter and chatter filled the air.

Bayside was a unique little bar and restaurant tucked away on a secluded beachfront lot that mostly only locals knew about. It was the local hangout for many military and law enforcement personnel in the area, especially the SEALs.

From the outside, the building appeared run down, which was purposely done by Paul, the owner, who was a former Marine. Nine times out of ten, any tourist who accidentally found the place would take one look at the building and keep driving, unbeknownst to what awaited them inside. He wanted a place where military and law enforcement personnel in the area could go and feel comfortable without the hassle of tourists.

The nautical theme mixed with a bit of patriotic flare gave the place a homey and relaxing vibe. But what the place was really known for was the food, especially the prime rib special that already had her mouth-watering. Her friend Luna was supposed to meet her there after work for dinner.

She scanned the room and spotted her team gathered around their usual table near the bar. She was doing her best to walk normally but failing miserably. Again, she felt like an injured penguin—waddle, limp, waddle, limp. Her hip was killing her, and there was no hiding it. They’re going to be so pissed.

Tristan and James spotted her first. With their drinks in hand, they looked happy and relaxed—until they noticed her struggling. Tristan’s smile faded, and James sat up straighter, his brows knitting together in concern.

And let the shit show commence!

“Gabby!” James called out. “What the hell happened?”

She waved her hand dismissively, even though she was wincing with every step. “Hold on. I’ll explain in a minute. Just let me sit before I collapse.”

The guys all exchanged worried glances as Rowan pulled out a chair, and she carefully got one butt cheek on the high chair and then slowly slid the rest of her butt onto it. The relief of getting off her feet was immediate, but she knew the interrogation was coming.

Oliver and Rowan both leaned in to look at her eye. “How is it feeling?” Oliver asked.

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