SEALed with a Kiss. Jill Monroe

Rachel. But first, food.

      RILEY HAD ALWAYS STRUCK HER as a man who never took anything seriously, except his job. She’d observed him in the ocean where the SEALs often trained. There, he was all about the mission, yet when it came to life … he was all about the work hard, play harder mantra.

      Riley obviously didn’t take food seriously. He was a disaster in the grocery store. They flew by the fresh fruits and vegetables without picking up one. Rachel cringed as he grabbed the first package of meat he saw, but the last straw was when he asked her preference of steak sauce. She should probably have given him credit for asking her first choice, but it was steak sauce they were talking about. And standards.

      “You are not destroying anything I make by drowning it in steak sauce,” she told him, refusing to take another step down the aisle displaying row after row of colorful condiments.

      “I like steak sauce,” he replied, reaching for a bottle.

      She put her hand on her hip. “Okay, let me ask you a question. What if I marinated those steaks in a dark beer, rubbed them with oregano and cumin, then grilled them with fresh chives and served guacamole and aji sauce on the side?”

      His hand fell away from the shelf of sauces. “I’d say count me in.”

      “So you’re ready to shop my way?” she asked.

      Riley took the two steps that had him at her side. He stroked the side of her cheek. And yes, there were the clichéd shivers down her back. What was with this man and her senses? “I just wanted to get the food and then get you alone again.”

      More shivers. This man could have her thinking drive-through burgers were a good idea. Almost.

      Then she did something she never thought she’d do on her own. She slipped her hand through Riley’s. His long fingers, warm and calloused and strong, laced with hers, gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

      Bad move. A woman didn’t initiate hand-holding with a man who didn’t take things seriously. It screwed up the balance. This would definitely be the last time she’d do something as stupid as that.

      An hour later, she and Riley sat together on his patio, plates on their legs as they enjoyed the warm evening breeze.

      “That was the best food I’ve ever had. Really,” Riley said. “You must like to cook.”

      “Actually, I hate cooking. What I like is eating. Eating good food, that is. When you grow up and your mom is a culinary chef, it’s hard to look at food as casual. Each meal must be something special.”

      Riley reached over and took the empty plate from her lap. His fingers grazed her bare thighs. “I’ll have to remember that.” His voice a sexy whisper at her ear. Shivers ran down her neck.

      She spotted the bulge in his pants. Apparently Riley was ready for round two. She, for one, couldn’t wait.

      He’d said the word remember. It made her go all fluttery. Not good. Riley didn’t mean remember as in them having more than just this weekend together. She stood and walked to the railing, giving herself a little space.

      The breeze ruffled her hair, and the last of the sunlight warmed her face. “I love San Diego at night,” she said when he joined her at the railing.

      His condo was too far away to see the beach, but the complex was beautiful. “Before I came home to help Hailey with The Sutherland, I worked in St. Louis. There are seasons in St. Louis, snow even. It was a nice change from here, but I missed the palm trees. There’s something purely relaxing about hearing the breeze rustle through those big leaves.”

      “I know what you mean. I did some training up at Spruce Cape in Alaska.”

      “Alaska? Why there?”

      “There’s snow in Afghanistan. Gotta know how to deal. Basically they give you a compass, drop you off and say, ‘Meet us here.’ I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold. Thinking about these palm trees kept me warm,” he told her with a laugh.

      Rachel turned to look. For all his joking around, Riley held a dangerous and important job. She could only imagine the kinds of peril he faced. The extreme temperatures. The utter discomfort. Rachel felt the overwhelming need to touch him. Comfort him.

      She took a swallow of her beer instead.

      “Do you regret coming back to San Diego?” he asked.

      “Running a B&B is a lot of hard work and unbelievable hours, but …” Her voice trailed off. A lump formed in her throat, which was ridiculous.

      Riley leaned toward her, his knee almost touching hers. Not a lot of legroom on this balcony. He seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. It was something more than just polite conversation and the kind of inquiries weekend fling etiquette required.

      What was the etiquette on a weekend fling?

      Those thoughts could wait.

      But not the fact that no one had asked her if she were sad to leave her home and a job she loved in St. Louis to return here. Not until Riley, that is. She hadn’t even questioned it. Her family home was in jeopardy, and she and Hailey had to take care of it. Fix it. It was as simple as that.

      Her stomach twisted. There was a reason she hadn’t questioned it. A truth she hadn’t yet faced. A dissatisfaction lay under the surface of her very necessary decision. Okay, those thoughts could wait, too.

      Rachel swallowed past the lump, reminding herself of the things she did like about returning to The Sutherland. “There is something really satisfying about seeing our home the way my grandparents would have wanted it. I like hearing the laughter of our guests during breakfast, and reading the comments in the guest book. I feel like I saved something important and special.”

      “Saved.”

      The word hung between them. Not quite a question, not quite a statement. “What do you mean?” she asked.

      “Past tense. You saved it, now what?”

      Rachel almost did a double take. Wait … when did this guy get so astute? “I’ll keep running The Sutherland with my sister.”

      “But you never wanted to run it in the first place, right? Otherwise you never would have left.”

      No, The Sutherland had never been her dream. She hadn’t wanted to escape it the way her sister Hailey

      had … the B&B just didn’t fit into her plans. But then she’d been doing a lot of things that didn’t fit into her long-range plans. Like Riley.

      She shook her head, and let her gaze slide to the palm trees that had been the cause of this whole awkward conversation. Well, awkward for her. Riley still appeared relaxed and sexy beside her.

      “So, what now for you?” he asked.

      She didn’t know. “How we turned The Sutherland around was featured in B&B Today magazine. Since then I’ve been getting a few calls and emails from other owners asking for help.”

      “Hey, that’s great. When do you start that?”

      Her knuckles tightened around the railing. “I haven’t called them back.”

      “Why not? Sounds like a perfect job for you.”

      She shrugged, turning away, though she knew he was waiting for her answer. “I don’t know. Marketing The Sutherland was easy. Well, not exactly easy,” she drawled.

      Rachel looked at him then, and he smiled. Slowly. This was a moment. One of those moments when you really connected with someone else. Strange that it was with someone like Riley Wilkes.

      “What if I can’t do it?” she asked. “It was just by chance the Navy SEALs train right outside our B&B.” The patio of The Sutherland provided a tableau of males in peak performance as they trained. Apparently a lot of women liked the special view. Add a mojito to the scene of Navy