Page 28 of Hunter's Revenge

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. This place was my grandparents’ life, so when my grandmother got sick a few months back, I took over. But really, I’m a fashion designer and own an online business. I design lingerie.”

“Wow, that’s impressive.” I try to sound like it’s the first I’m hearing this and as if I haven’t researched her life. “I’ve never met a fashion designer who designs lingerie before.”

“I run the business with my best friend. You saw her the other day. Her name is Dru. Our dream is to have an actual store someday in a big city. That’s what we’re working toward that.”

“That definitely sounds like a good dream. Good luck with it.”

Her smile brightens. “I’ll need it. What about you? Do I get to know more than your name and that you’re here on business?”

I think of what I can tell her that won’t make her more wary of me. “I was a lieutenant in the Navy.”

Now she looks really impressed. “Oh, wow. You look too young to have accomplished all that.”

“I’m twenty-eight. I enlisted the second I turned eighteen.”

“My grandfather was a pilot in the Air Force. He enlisted at eighteen, too, and served in Vietnam.”

I give her a fascinated smile, again pretending I don’t know that about her grandfather. “Now, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks. What made you leave?”

I knew this question would come, and I can’t think of the answer without my mind running over Jim Davison’s final moments. And the way my attackers ambushed us to take me.

It’s not exactly easy to penetrate a military naval base. It’s even harder to capture a man like me. I’ve considered them having help, but if they did, I haven’t found evidence of it yet.

Their ultimate goal was to kill me, but they wanted to mess with my head first. That’s why I was captured.

“An injury took me down,” I say after a moment too long of silence. I won’t go into details about how fucked-up my left hip was, along with any hopes of returning to the Navy.

Even though the injury has taken nothing from my brute strength or capabilities, the fact that my hip plays up sometimes robbed me of eligibility for active duty by the Navy’s standards.

The brightness in Gwen’s expression fades. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you okay now?”

“I’m fine. It happened years ago.

“Sounds like you loved being a sailor.”

“I did, and the beauty of it is, I still am.” I wink at her, and she chuckles.

“Gwen,” the tall Hispanic man who showed me to my seat calls her from the bar area.

Gwen nods at him and gives a little wave, then she returns her focus to me with a hint of disappointment in her eyes.

“That’s my cue, and the quickest ten minutes ever.”

“But it was good.”

“It was.” She rises to her feet and picks up her coffee cup.

“I’ll plan better next time.”

“Next time?” The desire returns to her eyes.

“Yeah. I might want to take you up on your original offer.”

She blushes again, knowing exactly what offer I’m referring to. “Are you always like this?”

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