Romeo respected the hell out of Doc. And to hear a guy like that speak abouthimthat way?
He had to take a quick drink to let the whiskey burn away the tears gathering behind his eyes or else he might break down bawling.Like…damn.
“Something tells me Mia is someone like that,” Doc continued. “Someone worth knowing. So maybe you should tell her therealreason you spooked like a wild mustang today, and then let her make up her own mind about you.”
Romeo stood from the table.
“Wait.” Doc looked alarmed. “I didn’t mean rightnow.Give her some time to cool down first.”
“I’m not going to talk to Mia,” Romeo told him. He wasn’t convinced Doc was right. The thought of telling Mia who he was—or who he’dbeen—turned his stomach worse than day-old chicken salad that’d been left in the sun.
Helikedthe way she looked at him now— Er…at least he’d liked the way she looked at him before their plane conversation. He’d liked seeing the interest and excitement in her eyes even when she was acting all trepidatious. And he didn’t think he could handle seeing disappointment there instead. Or worse, disgust.
“Then where are you headed?” Doc asked.
“To the beach at the back of the island. I’m going to finish my coffee out there.” He needed to think, and he couldn’t do it in a house full of his SEAL brothers. Like Doc, they were all far,fartoo shrewd when it came to picking up on his bad mood. And none of them could resist poking a bear.
“May you find peace once you get there.” Doc lifted his coffee mug.
“Amen, brother.” Romeo grabbed the bottle of whiskey on his way out. “I’ll drink to that.”
Chapter 29
3:16 PM…
“That’s so wrong.”
Wolf grabbed a seat in the rocking chair next to the one Officer Ryan inhabited and glanced at the man with a questioning look. “What is?” he asked.
Ryan hitched his chin toward Wolf’s getup, which consisted of nothing but Chrissy’s silk robe. Hershortsilk robe.
He’d awoken from a delicious post-coital catnap because he was feeling two things in equal measure. The first was a desperate, aching need to have her again. To feel her warm body welcome his. To hear her sighs turn into moans, and watch her as she was caught up in the arms of bliss.
But she’d looked so sweet and angelic in sleep that he’d known there wasn’t a damn thing he could do—or maybe the correct phrase wasshould do—about the hard-on that pulsed insistently between his legs.
The second thing he’d been feeling was hunger. In fact, he’d been so ravenous, he’d thought for sure his belly button had rubbed a hole in his backbone. Which, unlike his annoyingly insistent boner,hadbeen something he could remedy.
With slow, careful movements, he’d disentangled himself from Chrissy. After tucking the comforter around her, he’d tiptoed across the room to his damp jeans. But they’d stunk of hospital air and twenty-four hours of wear. The thought of putting them back on his body had curled his lip.
Instead, he’d grabbed the robe hanging on a hook on the back of her bedroom door. After cinching the belt around his waist, he’d transferred the Glock into the robe’s pocket. The firearm had been sitting atop the dresser where he’d carefully placed it before doing his best impression of a Chippendales dancer.
Mmm.Forever emblazoned upon his memory was the picture of Chrissy reclining back in bed, her eyes going hot and liquid as she watched him undress. There hadn’t been a hint of shyness or embarrassment in her gaze. Nope. Not his Chrissy. She’d been unapologetically voyeuristic, and it’d made him harder than he’d ever been before.
Once he’d ventured out of the bedroom, he’d found his damp T-shirt hanging over the shower curtain rod and had decided a load of laundry was in order. After spot-treating the clothes Chrissy had left in the plastic bag by the sofa, he’d thrown the whole lot into the washer.
Then he’d padded barefoot into the kitchen to wolf down a generous portion of bacon mac and cheese—he hadn’t even taken the time to heat it up in the microwave—and had washed it down with a tall glass of iced tea. Which had brought to mind Officer Ryan.
After pouring a second glass of tea, he’d shuffled onto the porch to discover the storm had completely blown over and taken most of the humidity with it, leaving only sunshine and a gentle breeze behind.
Now, he made a face and told Officer Ryan, “Are you so insecure in your masculinity that you can’t stand the sight of another man’s legs?”
“Oh, no.” Ryan took a sip of the iced tea before setting the glass on the porch’s wooden floorboards. “I’m fine with your legs, but I feel like the kimono is cultural appropriation. Plus, what’s between your hairy ass and that chair?”
“Just a bit of air.” Wolf grinned and watched Officer Ryan pretend to retch.
He liked the policeman. The guy was funny and hadn’t complained once about playing bodyguard on Chrissy’s porch.
“Hey, man,” Wolf said. “I can stand watch out here for a while if you need to hit the head.”
