Luckily, she didn’t need any convincing. After fingering a bracelet, then a necklace, she finally settled on a pair of earrings. “They’re beautiful,” she said to the black woman behind the table, who spoke broken English with a thick French island accent. “Très belle. Merci.”
“I’ve never heard you speak French before,” he said after they moved away.
“When in Miralinda,” she murmured. “And it’s fun to try. I hope it’s not rude. I maybe should have taken lessons or something, but—”
He stopped and turned, cutting her off. “Nobody expects you to take language lessons before going on vacation, Tor.”
“I know, but—”
“You don’t need to try that hard. If it’s fun, that’s great, but… you are perfect just the way you are. Never doubt that, okay?” He frowned.
She blinked up at him in surprise. “Okay.” Then she slid her arm through his and tugged him back into the throng of shoppers. “You’re very sweet to me.”
“I have my moments.”
He didn’t tell her that most of the time he was constantly monitoring his surroundings for a threat level assessment. That wasn’t sweet. It was just second-nature. It was also how he spotted, at the far end of the market, a big body moving quickly. Immediately he marked the man as military, and there was something—
Tori caught the way he zoomed in on a target. “What is it?”
He frowned. He wasn’t sure, exactly. “I could have sworn I saw a guy I know from work. We’re not on the same team, but we’ve trained together.”
“Small world.”
“Yeah.” He sped up and craned his neck. No doubt about it, that was Mick Frasier, who’d gotten out of the navy a couple years back. “Do you mind if we go over and say hi?”
“Not at all.”
He took her hand and lead her through the market, quickly navigating past vendors and shoppers, until they spilled out into an open square with a fountain in the middle. And on the other side, there was Mick—and he wasn’t alone.
“Small world indeed,” Logan said, his face breaking out in a grin. “Come on, I want you to meet some of my friends.” He raised his voice. “Who let you jerks leave California?”
Three heads swiveled in his direction. Mick Frasier, Brayden Lucas, and Will Parry.
Mick strode forward. The leg injury that forced him off the SEAL teams still gave him a slight limp, but the man looked tan, relaxed, and most of all, happy. “Logan Dwyer, what the hell are you doing here?”
They shook hands. “I’m on vacation with my friend Victoria.” He made introductions, and Tori shook hands with all the guys. “We’re staying at Le Soleil. What are you doing here?”
“We live here. Started an executive training firm. It’s a long story. How much time do you have?”
“Not that much right now, we’re on a mission to find beignets.”
Beside him, Tori shook her head. “That’s not that important, if you want to visit.”
He wrapped his arm around her. “Maybe later in the week?”
She looked at him, uncertainty all over her face. That right there was all the reason he needed to keep this trip focused on her. A SEAL reunion could happen another time.
Will didn’t miss a beat. “The bakery on the main drag is the best. I go there almost every morning, first thing. The coffee shop next door is excellent, too.”
“Thanks, man.”
“No problem. And hey, that’s our office just up there.” Will turned and pointed to a wide set of stairs. “One of us is there during business hours most of the time. And if we’re not there, we’re at Villa Sucre, just outside of town.”
Brayden pulled out a card and handed it over. “Come check it out. I’m almost done building an obstacle course. We could have a race, show your friend here how consistently I can kick your ass.”
Logan howled. That was hardly true. “It’s on, brother.”
Brayden chuckled, and they clapped their hands together again before saying goodbye.
