Page 11 of SEAL's Target

“I don’t play games,” Callie said.

“Nope. I take you for a straight-shooter. Trust me, that’s a compliment. Lots of women aren’t like that. So what do you say? Can I buy you a drink? We can hang out with your friend, too, if you’d like.”

Callie blinked as she stared at him.

“Callie? Is that okay?”

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “Yeah. Of course, it’s okay. I’m still in shock over running into you. Really, I should buy you a drink to thank you for rescuing me. I literally owe you my life.”

“Not a chance,” he said easily. “I’d never let a woman pay for me. I hope you don’t think that’s too chauvinistic,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“Well, I don’t date much anymore, but it’s different than the line of thinking of many men.”

“Yep,” Wyatt said easily. “But I don’t mind treating you. Let’s head over to the bar. You can tell me what you’ve been doing in Hawaii and how you like my island.”

“Your island?” she asked with a laugh, starting to relax. He smiled, and she knew Wyatt was trying to make her feel more comfortable. His large hand landed on the small of her back as he began to guide her toward the crowded bar, and she felt weirdly safe. Protected. They weren’t in any danger here in Coconuts, but she didn’t have to worry about someone finding her. Threatening her.

She swallowed.

Callie had taken her social media accounts offline a week after the hijacking, once she’d gotten the first comments on her photos and stories.

I know who you are.

You were there.

You saw me.

I’ll find you.

She shuddered, causing Wyatt to look down with a frown. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to force you into grabbing a drink if you don’t want.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “I was just lost in my own thoughts for a moment. Oh look, Alexa and your friend saved us seats.”

He searched her face for a beat, nothing slipping by him, then let the moment pass. Callie knew he had questions. No doubt lots of them. A crowded bar with a man she hadn’t seen in months wasn’t really the spot for a heart-to-heart, and he knew it as well as she did. Maybe someday they’d hash out what happened in detail—relive that nightmare. Tonight wasn’t the time. “Then let’s join them. Like I said, I’d love to find out what you’ve been up to,” he said with a warm smile. He’d stiffened slightly, however, clearly noticing her worry. Wyatt was far too observant, but they were just grabbing a drink. A man like him couldn’t solve her problems any more than she could.

Chapter 7

WYATT LET HIS HAND rest on Callie’s lower back, enjoying the feel of her silky, tropical dress beneath his calloused fingertips. She was as beautiful as he remembered. More so. She was tall for a woman, with a lithe frame and curves in the right places. A hint of a floral scent filled the air as her hair swished, and he wondered if she smelled that good all over. Protectiveness washed over him as he guided her through the crowd. Even all those months ago, something about Callie had called out to him. There wasn’t sheer panic etched across her face like there had been at the airport in Manila, but he still had the urge to watch out for her. Keep her safe. She was cautious. He’d seen her scanning Coconuts uncertainly as she and her friend had come in. After what she’d been through, it made sense that she’d be aware of her surroundings. Wyatt would love to find out what specifically she was frightened of so he could reassure her that she was safe.

“Are those your friends?” she asked, nodding toward his buddies.

Aaron and Hudson had come back from the dance floor to hang out with Sawyer again. All three men were looking toward Wyatt and Callie, Sawyer with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Yep. Those are several of my teammates. You may or may not remember them from the plane. I’ll introduce you later if you want—or another time,” he added, seeing the worry on her face. “We don’t have to discuss what happened.”

Reliving the hijacking probably wasn’t something she wanted to do. Wyatt hoped she’d trust him enough to fill him in sometime, but he wasn’t about to push the issue. He’d steer the conversation clear of that if his friends came over. It would be her call whether to talk about it or not.

Callie shrugged, looking slightly upset. “There were so many people there on the airplane that I don’t really remember them. Sorry.”

He couldn’t resist rubbing small circles on her back. “Hey, it’s fine. Most people we rescue we never even see again. I wish we’d met under better circumstances, but I’m not sorry we ran into each other.”

A hint of a smile played on her lips as she glanced back at him. He felt dumbstruck. Callie was so fucking pretty it almost hurt to look at her. High cheekbones. Wide blue eyes. Sunkissed skin. And that silky blonde hair he wanted to run his fingers through. She didn’t respond to his admission, but she didn’t need to either. He could see the relief and excitement on her face. They’d had a connection, brief and fleeting as it had been. What were the chances he’d see this girl again? Slim to none. He didn’t exactly believe in fate or any of that. Wyatt had worked hard to get where he was in life. He’d left his bad childhood behind and forged friendships during his military career, drawing success from his strength, grit, and determination. He couldn’t deny it felt like something else was at play here. It felt like Callie was his to keep safe, and he couldn’t stop the waves of protectiveness that washed over him now that she was near.

They moved toward the bar area, and Alexa had already cozied up to Austin. Sure enough, she was flirting with both him and the bartender. Callie nudged him gently. “I told you. She’s really into that guy.”

He chuckled, noticing Austin didn’t seem at all upset to play the part of the attentive date. The bartender was eyeing him, looking between Austin and Alexa like he couldn’t believe she was with someone.

“What can I get you?” Wyatt asked and he helped Callie onto a barstool. She shifted, the sundress swirling around her shapely legs, and he stood close to her so she wouldn’t be jostled. Most people wouldn’t notice, but he could see she favored her left arm. She was right-handed, so it was no doubt because her right arm had been broken. Had she needed surgery? Just a cast? Questions swirled in his mind. Wyatt wanted to kill those fuckers who’d hurt her. An impossible feat, given they were already dead.

She looked at him sheepishly before answering.

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