Jane worked for four hours straight, taking a quick break in the afternoon to order lunch from room service, and then went right back to work. It was nearly six o’clock when she finally leaned back in the chair and rolled her aching shoulders. Done. As she read over her work, she realized she’d completely forgotten about the interview she’d scheduled with Ryan Evans, but she decided she didn’t need it. The story of her sister’s ordeal was just as powerful without the interview.
And it was pretty damn good, if she said so herself. It probably would have been better if the magazine could print that gorgeous photo of Beck standing in front of the helicopter. But Becker had made his refusal clear.
He’d made a lot of things clear, hadn’t he?
Stop thinking about him.
The voice in her head was firm, but it didn’t deter Jane from thinking about him. From remembering the time they’d spent together this week. Damn it. What was the matter with that man? The two of them were explosive together. Jane had never felt a connection like this with a man before, and she knew Becker had felt that same connection. Obviously it hadn’t mattered to him as much as it mattered to her.
The ring of her cell phone jerked her out of her thoughts. Arching her stiff back to stretch it, Jane got up and grabbed the cell from the bed. An unfamiliar number flashed across the screen. Wary, she picked up and said, “Hello?”
“Finally,” came a male voice. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, and that was very upsetting. My ego is very fragile.”
She recognized the mischievous rasp of Ryan Evans’ voice immediately. An unwitting smile reached her lips. “I’m not avoiding you. I’ve been working all day on my article and I tend to block out all outside noise when I’m writing. I take it you called before.”
“Three times,” he said with mock severity. “This is the most effort I’ve ever gone to for a woman.”
“I’m flattered.”
“You should be.” Ryan finally grew serious. “So, did you still want to do that interview?”
Her gaze drifted to the open laptop across the room, the screen that showed the finished draft of her article. Technically, she didn’t need Ryan anymore. She could just polish up the article, send it to Maureen tonight, and head back to LA tomorrow morning.
But that still meant she’d be alone tonight. Alone, most likely pigging out on room-service desserts, and thinking about Becker.
That did not sound like fun.
“Actually, I don’t think I need the interview anymore,” she answered. “But…I could use some company, if you’re up for it.”
“I’m up for anything, when it comes to you.”
His voice oozed with sexuality, and Jane felt a blush creep into her cheeks. She thought about her last night with Becker, how the two of them had pretended Ryan was in the room with them. God, that had been hot.
Pushing the memory away, she cleared her throat. “Where do you want to meet?”
“I’m actually heading over to the Sand Bar tonight. I’m meeting Matt—Matt O’Connor, you met him yesterday—in a couple of hours, but I could meet you there now if you want.”
“That sounds good.”
“What’s your poison?” Ryan teased. “I’ll order you something if I get there first.”
“Margaritas,” she said immediately. “I’m going to need a lot of margaritas.”
Jane pasted on a smile as she strode into the Sand Bar, a small but trendy bar located right on the boardwalk. The place was busy when she strode in, filled with a mishmash of patrons, from surfers to a group of suit-clad men who looked like tax lawyers. On the phone, Ryan had told her the place had awesome chicken wings, but Jane was more interested in the alcohol it served. After yesterday’s awful goodbye with Becker, she was looking forward to getting good and drunk.
Although the magazine had paid for her hotel room until Sunday, she had already decided this would be her last night in San Diego. She was done with her article. She was done with Becker. Which meant there was really no reason for her to stick around. Might as well go home, focus on her job, and force herself to forget about the sexy Navy SEAL who’d rocked her world this week.
Ryan wasn’t inside the bar when she walked in. She searched the crowded room, finally spotting him at one of the outdoor tables on a deck that overlooked the ocean. She weaved her way toward him, ignoring the lewd whistle of a guy with spiky platinum hair and the blatant ogling of a middle-aged man nursing a bottle of beer. When she stepped outside, Ryan shot her an endearing grin and got to his feet. He was even sexier than she remembered, and completely opposite from Becker, who was strong and stoic, who oozed raw masculinity. Not that Ryan wasn’t masculine. He had to be, with that lean, rippled body and the sexual energy it radiated, but he was laidback, cool in a very easygoing kind of way.
A little shiver danced up her spine as she thought about Becker’s cock buried in her ass, while she used her fingers to mimic Ryan inside her pussy. Arousal drummed through her blood, but quickly faded as she remembered Becker’s goodbye. If she’d met Ryan first, maybe she would have hooked up with him. Now…well, she didn’t want anyone but Thomas Becker.
Too bad he didn’t want her.
“Did you have any problems getting here?” Ryan asked as he pulled out a chair for her.
The table he’d chosen seated two and was shaded by a huge red umbrella that fluttered in the evening breeze. On the horizon, Jane noticed the sun dipping into the water, filling the sky with brilliant shades of orange and pink. She set her purse on the wooden deck and sat down. “None,” she said in response to his question. “I like it here. It’s got a good atmosphere.”
Ryan sat down again. “That’s why we come here. Oh, this is for you.” He pushed the margarita glass across the table, the liquid coming perilously close to spilling over the rim.
“Thanks,” she said gratefully. She picked up the glass, tipped it back, and drank nearly half of it.
Ryan’s dark eyebrows shot to his forehead. He watched as she licked the salt from her lips, his blue eyes flickering with amusement. “So why the urgent need for company?”
She took another long sip, enjoying the lemony flavor of the alcohol as it slid down her throat. “I didn’t want to be alone in my hotel room all night,” she confessed.
Ryan looked intrigued. He dragged a hand through his dark hair then leaned back in his chair. “The Lieutenant is busy tonight?” he asked in a careful tone.
“The Lieutenant dumped me,” she said in a glum voice. Avoiding his eyes, she polished off the rest of her drink and signaled the waitress for another one.
When she glanced back at Ryan, he looked shocked. “Lieutenant Becker dumped you?”
She nodded.
Ryan’s seductive blue eyes traveled down her face and rested briefly on her breasts, which practically poured out of her thin tank top. She hadn’t bothered changing after Ryan’s phone call. Just hopped in the car in her ratty cut-off shorts and practically see-through top. At least she was wearing a bra, though she could feel the heat of Ryan’s gaze directly against her bare skin, teasing her nipples.
He finally lifted his gaze, shaking his head to himself. “Was he on drugs?”
“Nope.” She shrugged. “He thinks I’m not his type.”
Another flash of surprise from Ryan, followed by a lazy smile. “Janie, I think you’re everyone’s type.”
She laughed. “Has anyone ever told you you’re unbelievably charming?”
“I hear it all the time.” He smiled impishly, and a pair of adorable dimples creased his cheeks. Reaching for his beer, he lifted it to his lips and took a long swig, then set down the bottle. He looked determined as he leaned forward on both elbows. “I have an idea. Want to know what it is?”
“Hell, yes.”
He opened his mouth, only to get interrupted by the waitress, who deposited another margarita in front of Jane. With a quick thanks, Jane picked up the fresh glass and sipped, waiting for Ryan to continue.
/> “So, here’s what I’m thinking,” he said in a sexy drawl. “For some reason, Lieutenant Becker was stupid enough to let you get away. I, on the other hand, would never commit such an atrocity.”
She tightened her lips to stop from laughing. “Okay. And?”
“And I think it’s a shame for you to spend your last few days in San Diego alone when you could be naked. With me,” he finished, shooting her an innocent smile that revealed his straight white teeth.
Jane stared at him. “Oh my God. You’re man-Jane.” She shook her head in bewilderment, wondering if this was how those chicks from The Parent Trap felt when they discovered they had a twin. “You’re me.”
Ryan wrinkled his forehead. “Is that a good thing, or a bad one?”
She pursed her lips as she mulled it over. “Well, it’s bad for you, because I don’t think I could sleep with a guy who reminds me this much of myself. It’s weird. But it’s also good for you, because I have no problem getting absolutely sloshed with a guy who reminds me this much of myself.” She picked up her second drink and drained it.
Ryan offered a wolfish grin. “I still think revenge sex is a better way to get over Becker.”
She flagged down the waitress and ordered another drink, this time a martini. “You never know,” she said with a shrug. “I could get drunk enough that revenge sex might start looking pretty good.”
His grin widened. “You know, I think I’m really beginning to like lady-Ryan.”
Becker spent the entire day going over the rental listings his realtor had faxed to the cottage, but if anyone asked him to describe any of the houses, he’d draw a blank. It was hard to focus when he couldn’t quit thinking about Jane. Wondering what she was doing. Debating if he should call her up, tell her to forget everything he’d said yesterday, and take her to bed again. He managed to fight the temptation, but by the time eight o’clock rolled around, he was anxious as hell. He’d gone to the hotel restaurant for dinner, convincing himself it was so he could get out of the cottage, but deep down he knew he was hoping to run into Jane. He hadn’t, and now he was back in his room, absently flipping channels on the TV and wondering how the hell it was possible to miss someone so much, especially someone he’d only known a week.
Shutting off the TV, Becker finally gave up on trying to distract himself with mindless sitcoms. Maybe if he had someone to talk to about this. Someone who could offer some advice, tell him what to do. His head kept telling him to get over it, that Jane wasn’t the right woman for him. She was too bold, too ambitious, breezing through life with her sassy smiles and act-before-you-think attitude. He didn’t want another woman like that. He wanted to be with a woman who desired the same things as he did, not one day as Jane had said, but right now.
So yeah, his head knew all this. But his heart? His heart ached for Jane. Or maybe it was just his cock doing the aching. Maybe she’d cast an erotic spell on him.
Regardless, he couldn’t sit around here anymore, thinking about her. Before he could stop himself, Becker reached for his cell phone and scrolled through the contacts list until he came across one particular name. He hesitated. Fuck, did he really want to do this? Initiate some awkward male bonding time?
Do you really want to be alone? a voice countered.
With a sigh, he pressed send and waited. Carson Scott answered the phone after two rings. “Hello?” the other man said easily.
“Uh, Carson, it’s Becker.” He cleared his throat, growing uncomfortable. He would have rather talked to Will Charleston, but Will lived too far away. Carson, on the other hand, was only five minutes away, having just moved into a building not far from the hotel. John Garrett lived around here too, but Becker was definitely not comfortable calling Garrett, who he knew the least out of all the men.
“Lieutenant?” The surprise in Carson’s voice was palpable. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Nothing really.” He faltered. “I just called to see if you felt like having a beer. With me.” For Christ’s sake, could he make it sound any more like a date?
There was a pause. “A beer. Uh, sure,” Carson finally agreed, still sounding confused. “I’m actually watching the Padres game right now. You want to come over here?”
“Yeah, I can do that. I can be there in ten.”
“Cool.” Carson rattled off his address and apartment number then said, “See you in a bit then.”
Becker hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment. He could call back. Cancel. Tell Carson he’d changed his mind. But what was the alternative? Channel surf some more and think about how much he wanted to see Jane again?
He stood up with a decisive nod, and was in the car five minutes later, driving toward Carson’s apartment building. This was the first time he’d made an effort to see one of his teammates outside of work, and as he pulled into the visitor’s lot of Carson’s low-rise, he found himself growing nervous. Shit, maybe he ought to turn around and go back to the hotel. He didn’t know how to do the friend thing, sharing your feelings and all that crap. He’d always been a private person, and he felt a spark of annoyance towards Jane as he realized she was the one who’d driven him to make social contact.
If he hadn’t met her, he wouldn’t be so torn up in knots right now. He wouldn’t need to seek out advice from a man he hardly knew.
Sighing, he got out of the car and stuffed his hands in his pockets, warily eyeing the quaint building, which boasted redbrick walls covered by strands of ivy. The front entrance was small, featuring a series of mailboxes and intercoms. Becker searched for Carson’s name then pressed the button.
“Hello?” came a throaty female voice.
Becker cleared his throat. “Uh, hey. It’s Thomas Becker.”
“Oh, hi! I’m so glad you’re here. I need a second opinion about my Osso Buco. I’m buzzing you in.”
An opinion about her what? Before he could decipher the weird remark, the door clicked open with a loud buzz. Becker hesitated, then walked through it and headed for the elevator.
Carson’s apartment was on the third floor, at the end of a narrow corridor with a clean tiled floor. Becker was just reaching his hand out to knock when the front door flung open and a stunning brunette with big green eyes stood before him. “Hi, I’m Holly,” she said cheerfully. “Come in. Carson’s in the living room.”
He followed Holly into the small hallway, trying his best not to ogle her. She wore a pair of teeny black shorts and a bright green T-shirt, and though she couldn’t have been that much taller than five feet, she held a lot of energy in that petite body of hers. “I’m so glad to finally meet you,” she said with a big smile. “Shelby and I wanted to throw you a welcome-to-the-team party when you first got here, but Carson said it wasn’t your thing.”
“Shelby?” he said blankly.
Holly shoved a wayward strand of brown hair off her forehead. “John Garrett’s wife. She owns the bakery a few blocks from here. Oh, and she’s pregnant!” Holly beamed at him. “Isn’t that amazing? They just found out last week.”
“Um…”
“For God’s sake, sweetheart, leave the Lieutenant alone,” came Carson’s drawl. “I told you not to scare him off.”
Holly linked her arm through Becker’s as she led him into the living room, where Carson was sitting on the couch with a beer in his hands. “He’s not scared of me,” she said with a grin. “Right, Thomas?”
“Becker,” Carson corrected.
Holly pursed her lips. “You don’t like Thomas?” she said curiously.
He shifted awkwardly. “I like it.” He shrugged. “People have just always called me Becker most of my life. I don’t know who started it, but it stuck.”
“Well, I like the name Thomas,” she answered. “It sounds very dignified.” She let go of his arm and gestured to the couch. “Sit down. I’ll bring out a sample for you.”
“A sample?” Becker asked in a low voice as Holly bounded toward a doorway he assumed led into the kitchen. He sat on the long beige cou
ch and accepted the beer bottle Carson offered him.
“She’s trying out a new recipe,” Carson explained. “Holly’s a chef.”
At Carson’s explanation, Becker nodded, suddenly noticing the intoxicating aroma wafting in from the kitchen. Garlic, tomatoes, and a mixture of herbs. It smelled like heaven. Tasted like heaven too, he found out, after Holly returned a moment later with a small plate loaded with what looked like veal covered in a creamy tomato sauce and practically forced him to take a bite.
“This is amazing,” Becker said, eyeing her with awe. “You’re really good.”
“Thanks.” She took his empty plate. “I’m going to finish experimenting. You boys be good.”
Holly left the room again, leaving the two men alone. Becker’s gaze drifted toward the television screen. The Padres game was at the bottom of the eighth, with the Padres leading by two runs, but he wasn’t interested. He’d never been much of a baseball fan. Football was his sport of choice.
“So,” Carson said, after the silence between them dragged on for far too long, “Not to be rude or anything, but what the hell are you doing here? We’ve known each other for seven months and you haven’t once acted like you were into making friends.”
Becker respected the other man’s frankness. It was probably what made him offer a frank answer of his own. “I’ve been an ass to you guys, haven’t I?”
Carson’s blue eyes flickered with amusement. “Yep.”
“I’m sorry.” He raised his bottle and took a long sip of beer. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not very good at socializing.”
“I’ve noticed,” Carson said dryly. He suddenly grinned. “But neither was Will at first, and I managed to draw him out of that prickly shell of his. I have faith in you too, Lieutenant.”
“Quit calling me that. We’re not on a mission.”
“Sorry, it’s a habit.” Carson sipped his own beer, turning his gaze away from the screen and studying Becker. “So, why were you stir crazy? Did you get in a fight with that sexy-as-sin redhead you were with the other day?”