Page 2 of Stranded with a SEAL

Just being a notch on some guy’s bedpost wasn’t exactly any woman’s dream.

“Young,” his buddy scoffed. “We’re thirty-three. Old men compared to the eighteen-year-olds.”

“I suppose,” Noah said with an easy grin. “I can be young at heart though, right? I’m meeting some of my buddies at Anchors later on, a bar up the beach. I couldn’t pass up the chance to grab a beer and wish you congrats though. Married? Holy hell,” he said, letting out a low whistle.

Taylor smiled as she walked over. “Another round for everyone?”

“What are we drinking?” Noah asked, sliding his aviators atop his head.

“Whiskey,” his friend said.

“I’m game,” Noah said, his bright green eyes flashing with interest as he looked at Bailey. She saw his gaze track over her small eyebrow ring. She’d gotten it pierced as an act of defiance when she was younger, but now she loved the slightly edgy look it gave her. Three piercings in each ear rounded out the look, and she felt her skin heat slightly as Noah looked over her.

She lined up another row of shot glasses, filling them up, and watching as each of the men picked up their shot.

“To Owen!” Noah said, raising his shot glass up in the air.

“To Owen!” the other men repeated, and then they were downing their third shot, whooping and hollering.

“Can I get you anything else?” Bailey asked, watching them in amusement.

“I guess your phone number is out of the question,” Noah said, his green eyes landing on her. Their eyes locked for a moment, and she felt frozen in place. A beat passed before she recovered her composure.

“That it is,” she agreed. “I don’t date customers.”

“You’re friends with Taylor.”

It wasn’t a question. Had he known who she was all along? She tried not to shift in place under his intense gaze. Part of her felt like he could see right through her, which was crazy. She didn’t even know the man.

“Bailey Franklin,” she said, resisting the urge to flinch as she held out her hand.

His large, warm hand encompassed hers. His skin was slightly rough, but despite how strong he clearly was, he held her hand carefully, not crushing it in his. “Noah Miller.”

“I thought the guys called you Viper?”

He chuckled, holding her hand a beat too long. She immediately missed the warmth when he released her. “Who told you that? Riptide?” he asked, referring to Mason.

Every man on the Delta SEAL team had a nickname, and Mason and Taylor had told her them one night over drinks.

“Yeah, aren’t you afraid of snakes or something?” she asked innocently.

Noah chuffed out a laugh, looking amused. “That’s what he told you?”

She smiled, feeling shivers race down her spine as he stared intently at her. She tried to keep focused on his face and not let her eyes wander down to those broad shoulder and impressive biceps. How much could a guy like that bench press? He could probably pick her up with no problem.

Something about his strength and masculinity was appealing as hell. Not that anything was going to ever happen between them.

“No, I’m just messing with you,” she said with a laugh.

His eyes lit up. “Damn straight. Mason is the one afraid of snakes. I even saved his sorry ass once.”

“I can’t see it,” she said, shaking her head. Her low ponytail moved across her back, and she saw Noah’s gaze drop to her chest. She wasn’t huge, but the tank top she had on hugged her breasts nicely. A customer gestured to her from across the bar, and she excused herself, Noah protesting that she hadn’t even let him tell her the story.

She felt his eyes on her ass as she moved away, and she smiled. God, he was such a flirt. Taylor had told her he always had a new woman with him. Which was exactly why she’d never date a guy like him. Not that she minded a little harmless flirtation.

He wasn’t exactly hard to look at, either.

If she knew he wouldn’t be around all the time thanks to the fact that they had mutual friends in Mason and Taylor, she wouldn’t have minded a little hot and heavy make-out session with him. Feeling all those hard muscles pressed up against her sounded delicious.

---