Page 4 of Stealing It
She’s not. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. I’ve had a few girlfriends sprinkled into my life. One I thought might turn into something, but my career deterred anything from becoming something more. I’ve hardened my heart against feelings. They complicate a life that is already full of complications. “What else do you know about me?” I ask, leaning toward her, my elbows on the small round table, my mind racing with images of her trading clothes with her friend on the beach.
She blows her hair out of her face and looks away. “I’m not a born and bred Bronze Bay local, so I’m not really in the gossip loop, but I have been here long enough to know about you. I do know you came here to open the Navy Base down on the beach. I know you’re in the special forces,” she says, meeting my eyes. Her voice rises at the end.
“That a question?” I tilt my head to the side.
She shrugs. “Maybe?”
“I am.”
“A Navy SEAL?” she asks, quieter this time, like she’s whispering a secret. It’s adorable.
I nod. “What else have you heard? It’s sort of nice living in a small town. I barely have to talk. The town does it for me.”
“I’m sorry. That’s so rude of me.”
Leaning my head to the side again, I grin. “I’m not offended. Remember? You can’t offend me. I was being honest. You haven’t gotten anything wrong yet. I’ll correct you if you do. Go on,” I reply, waving my hand.
“I’d rather you just told me,” she says, casting her eyes down toward a glass of water.
The hostess, who is also the waitress, brings two long-stemmed glasses and opens the white wine. She pours for both of us and leaves, tossing a seductive look over her shoulder as she goes. If Magnolia turns south, I know who will be in my bed tonight.
There are only four other couples in the entire restaurant, and we’re out of earshot of all of them. I rub my hands together. “I moved to Bronze Bay because the Navy told me to. I spent most of my life on the SEAL teams on the West Coast. San Diego,” I say, watching her face as she processes my words. “I’m a military man. I don’t settle down and using an app to find dates is the easiest way for me to have company.” I look to the right. The hostess is looking at me again. When I turn back to Magnolia, I know she hasn’t noticed the other woman. She’s oblivious. “When was the last time you went on a first date?” Hopefully by my intonation, she knows the word date implies more than just noodles and wine.
She drinks a sip of her wine, twirling the stem of the glass in her hand. Her long lashes fan across her cheeks as she watches the glass. She really is fucking beautiful. “Oh, give or take fifteen years,” she says, laughing, a sarcastic noise. “Seriously, though.” Her gaze meets mine. Truth.
Schooling my reaction is difficult. “Fuck,” I say. “You’re going to have to give me a bit more than that, Magnolia. Have you been hiding in a convent?”
She laughs. “This is the part where you run.”
I down my wine, pour another one, and top off hers without replying, hoping she’ll go on without further prompting.
“I’m divorced.”
I nod. I’m thirty. About the age where it’s normal to have a divorce under your belt. “And?” I ask, clearing my throat.
“How old is the average woman you date?” she asks.
Volleying my head back and forth I calculate. “Twenty-five?”
“Is that a question?” Magnolia asks. “The hostess is nineteen. You like them young? Another thing I’ve been told about you SEALs that might not be a problem with other women, but it’s a problem for me.”
Her smirk is victorious, and I feel a wave begin to drown me. I’m in over my head. She hides things as well as I do. I swallow hard. Shit. “I guess the average varies,” I say. “What does that have to do with us? You are clearly of age.” He nods at my wine glass.
“I have a seventeen-year-old daughter. Almost an adult. Almost the same age as the waitress,” she says, licking her lips. Her eyes narrow, waiting for my reaction. I’ve had years of practice hiding my emotions and feelings. Neutral. I need to find my best neutral persona. Magnolia continues, “I married my ex-husband directly out of high school. He left me for a nineteen-year-old. Expelling all of this information up front is probably a good way to never have a second date again, but I feel it’s really important to be upfront if this is going to go further.” She glances at the waitress once more and returns her gaze to mine.
I drink the second glass of wine and taste nothing, so I pour more. This is the part where I run. Far and hard and fast. “I’m into you. Just you. Where do you want this to go? Tell me how you envisioned this night going?” Asking questions is a good way to gather your wits. I don’t want to say something stupid, but I can’t deny I’m intrigued.
She shrugs. “Jenny told me it was an app used primarily for one-night stands.” Her blue eyes soften as her voice lowers. “I’m not sure I can do that though.” Relief washes over me and muscles I didn’t even realize were tense ease back into my chair. This is a problem I can solve easily. Fuck, I might even be able to get her in my bed tonight, after all. I can deal with her baggage for one night. Better yet, I can forget her baggage for one night.
“Youcando it,” I say. “We are almost the same age, Magnolia. The fact you have a daughter is of little consequence to me. Honestly, my only reservation is how long it’s been since you’ve gone to bed with a man. The concern being if I can be gentle enough.”
Her lips are wet and her breathing speeds. The waitress intrudes. “Are you ready to order?”
I’m about to tell her what I want when Magnolia interrupts. “You know what? Just bring us the check please, darling.” She meets my eyes. “That okay?”
I nod once. “Perfect,” I growl.
