Page 53 of The Seal's Promise

“Weird, because that memory is seared into my brain,” he said.

It had been the summer before Dalton left town, and she’d been working at the diner every day to save up for a car. The local kids and tourists would stream into the diner for lunch then head back to the beach and another crowd would come in for dinner. But she was stuck inside all day, until the day when there was the threat of a huge tropical storm and her boss cut her loose early. She was supposed to ride her bike home, but for some reason she’d been antsy to see the beach.

The waves had gotten rough, driving all the tourists into their rentals. The sky was filled with clouds, and she’d enjoyed the blustery air after suffering through two months of hot summer days. Walking along the beach, she’d gotten distracted by all the cool shells she found, and a wave swooped in so fast it knocked her off her feet. The tide pulled her into the water, but she’d scrambled out, soaking wet. When she looked up, Dalton was running toward her and she realized how far she’d walked.

“Where’d you come from?” he’d asked, wrapping her up in a towel just as a few drops of rain fell.

Before she could answer, the sky opened up and big fat raindrops obscured her vision, but it didn’t matter since she could feel the heat of Dalton’s arm wrapped around her.

“Come on, we gotta get out of this storm.”

“I have to get home,” she’d said.

“No chance of that until the storm passes.”

He’d led her back to his house and used the back stairs to sneak her up to his room. He loaned her dry clothes and made them both hot chocolate while she texted her parents a lie, something about waiting out the storm at her best friend’s house to which they agreed was best. Then she spent the next twelve hours in Dalton’s room. They read a book together, watched TV, and she’d kissed his full lips when he fell asleep next to her with a wall of pillows between them. Then, as the sun came up, she begged him to sneak her out of his house and take her home. The roads were covered with debris—the storm had been bad—but neither of them said a word. She hopped out of his truck at the end of her street so her parents wouldn’t see, and then they never spoke about it again. But the next day her bike appeared outside her house, looking brand-new.

Dalton’s hand cupped her face and his thumb ran over her bottom lip, bringing her back to the present. The sun was sinking lower, painting the sky in orange and yellow with a kiss of pink.

“I thought you were just being nice that day.”

His slow smile looked guilty. “I didn’t want you to ever leave, but I didn’t understand why I was so drawn to you either. You were different from the other girls I knew in high school.”

“Is that why we never hung out again?”

“We hung out every week in the library, and I drank so many shakes from the diner that my belly ached all summer.”

“You didn’t come to the diner to see me—you and all your friends just didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Dalton pulled her face closer and kissed her with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes.

“My friends hated going to the diner, especially since we had the boathouse to hang out at. But I insisted,” he whispered against her lips, then pulled away to guide her down a few steps where they stepped into the sand and kicked off their shoes.

Her mind was racing as she processed what he’d just said. She and Dalton had randomly met at the library his junior year of high school, and she’d been a sophomore. She’d helped him with a book report, and then they would occasionally run into each other. But they didn’t become friends outside of school—she assumed he felt obligated to say hi—until the night of that storm. He’d confided in her about his dream to go to the Naval Academy, and she’d told him how she wanted to move to a big city. They formed a type of friendship, but he’d never flirted with her, and she didn’t believe he’d seen her as anything more than an acquaintance. In truth she was just one of many girls at school swooning over him, even if she was more subtle about it.

But as he spread a quilted white blanket over the sand and opened up his zippered tote, she wondered for the first time if Dalton James Hart had a crush on her now.

“Is that sushi?” Brooke asked.

“Maybe,” he said, sitting down and patting the blanket next to him. “I can see those wheels turning, don’t overthink it.”

She took a seat.

“Hold this, please,” he said as he handed her an insulated stemless wine glass, just a second before pulling a bottle of chilled white wine out of his bag.

“I didn’t realize SEALs had Mary Poppins bags. What else is in there?”

“You’ll see. I hope you’re hungry,” he said, pulling out several trays of handcrafted sushi, edamame, and a seaweed salad, followed by chopsticks, napkins, and plates. “I wasn’t sure what you liked and I didn’t want to ask the chef what you usually get, so I just got a little of everything.”

She sat with her mouth shut as he pulled out a small tray to set their cups and wine on. If this was how he hung out casually with someone he wanted to hook up with for a few months, then who was she to argue? But maybe this was all a show because they technically hadn’t slept together yet. Granted she’d experienced two epic orgasms, but they hadn’t had sex. She could feel her cheeks warming at the thought of being so physically close to the man she’d had a crush on for half her life.

“Did I at least get one thing you liked?” She looked up to find confusion on Dalton’s face.

“Oh, yah, I’m just so hungry I’m not sure where to start. I don’t usually share my sushi with anyone, but in this case I can make an exception.” She recovered, then lifted her glass up to tap his. “Cheers.”

“Cheers to our first Wednesday night,” he said.

She gulped a big sip down. “Now that you say it out loud it sounds kind of silly.”

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