Page 27 of Rescued by a SEAL

“Where’s the trash?”

“Downstairs.”

He nodded and quickly jogged down, flinging the offending items into the trash can. A few moments later and he was back upstairs, walking over to Taylor.

“I can call the police. You can file a report and get this thing rolling tonight.”

She shifted nervously. “I’d rather just call someone to get him.”

Mason nodded, not happy with her answer. What choice did he have though? If he called them against her wishes, was he any better than this guy? The decision needed to be hers. She needed to feel like she was the one in control around him. “Do you have the number of any of his friends?”

“Yeah. The guy that has my car actually.”

Mason pulled out his cell phone and took a picture of Eric lying there by the stairwell.

“Let me see your phone,” Mason said.

Taylor looked at him questionably but handed it over.

“What’s his friend’s name?” After Taylor responded, he sent a text from his own phone. “I just sent him a picture and told him to come get his friend.”

Taylor laughed, looking slightly more relaxed. “Won’t he wonder who you are?”

Mason shrugged, grabbing her hand. “Don’t know, don’t care. He can text me back. Let’s go inside. His buddy will probably be pissed as hell to have to come get him this late. But if he shows up at your door, I’ll be there. We might have a discussion about your car, too.”

Taylor nodded, and Mason pulled her close. “I’m glad you texted me earlier.”

She slid the key into her lock and pushed open the door. “Well I’m not. I mean I’m glad that you’re here, don’t get me wrong, but I’d rather not have to deal with any of this at all.”

“Understood,” Mason said. “I’d rather not have your ex-boyfriend hanging around either.”

She crossed the room and turned on a lamp on one of her end tables. Mason’s gaze swept the area—the balcony door was locked with a bar down across it. The windows were closed. Good. He turned back and saw that she’d fastened the deadbolt on the front door.

He relaxed slightly, moving further into her apartment.

The space was small but tidy. Small aspects of her personality showed through in the way she’d decorated the space. There were photographs of ocean sunrises on her wall, a basket of seashells on her coffee table. Books were stacked in a neat pile—both fiction and romance, he noted with a grin.

Hell if he wouldn’t love to show her a little romance and sweep her off her feet.

Not that now was the appropriate time.

“Did you take those yourself?” he asked, nodding at the mounted photos on the wall.

“I did,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “It’s a hobby of mine, but I’ve always loved photography and the ocean.”

“They’re amazing,” he said, walking closer to get a better look. “You must’ve been up really early to take these. I’ve seen plenty of sunrises in my days in the Navy—not usually by choice.”

She laughed, the melodious sound sending electricity coursing through him. “Yep. I try to avoid getting up that early normally. I can’t resist a good sunrise though.”

“Duly noted,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Wouldn’t he love to enjoy a sunrise with her. Preferably after getting to know her all night.

Taylor dropped her purse onto an armchair and crossed over to stand at his side. She yawned, blushing again as he chuckled.

“It’s late,” he said, briefly letting his fingers trail down her bare arm. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. Just grab me a blanket or something, and I’ll crash on the sofa.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “I mean, I could stay out here and let you have the bed. You’re a lot taller than me.”

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