Her Seal Protector. Jillian Burns

pressed her palms to her eyes. Why had she told him? Why had she felt the need to explain? If only she had just kept quiet, and let the moment pass. She uncovered her eyes. “Oh, please can we just forget the whole thing?”

      After another long moment, she felt him shift to a sitting position, caught an impression of his arms hanging off his knees. “Got about two, maybe three hours till dawn.”

      Thank goodness he wasn’t any more anxious to pursue the subject than she was.

      She nodded. He probably couldn’t see her, but his announcement hadn’t really required an answer.

      More silence.

      Could she take three to four hours of sitting here, wondering what he was thinking of her? Worrying about snakes, and kidnappers, and imagining all the many scenarios where they didn’t make it out of here alive? She’d lose it for sure. She needed a distraction. Like a bolt, an idea hit her. “Hey, you never told me about the Peach Jam Jubilee.”

      * * *

      CLAY GRIMACED. As a change of topic, it sucked, but at least they weren’t talking about feelings and—he cringed. People who’d never had sex before.

      For a virgin she was an awfully good kisser. Too good. Trouble was, he’d been so into that kiss he’d forgotten all about his job. His duty. And that was unacceptable. Not during a mission. Not ever. No woman had ever distracted him like that. And no woman ever would.

      “Clay?”

      “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “What is there to tell? It’s just your usual hometown parade. The Peach Queen gets crowned and waves at everybody from her float.”

      “Sounds...peachy.” She snickered.

      Clay couldn’t stop a smile. She was something else. Cracking jokes after all she’d been through. “Yeah. There’s peach jam, peach pie, peach preserves.”

      “Peach cobbler.” She gasped. “Peach ice cream,” she moaned the words.

      That throaty, feminine sound made his breath catch. Don’t go there. “And don’t forget peachy pork chops.”

      “Pork chops?”

      “You’ve never had ’em? They’re good.”

      She groaned. “Now you’re making me really hungry.”

      She didn’t know the half of it. He snapped his night vision goggles down over his eyes and scanned the area. “You should try to get some shut-eye.” This time he’d be prepared for all those sexy little noises she made in her sleep. And the feel of her body against his.

      “I don’t think I can.”

      She wiggled and bumped into him and he looked over. She was clutching a silver medal hanging around her neck and biting her lip. Her skirt was hitched up to midthigh. She had beautiful legs. Her hips were curvy, but her waist was small. And that thin white shirt outlined her beautiful— He flipped the goggles up. Didn’t seem fair that he could see her and she couldn’t see him.

      “What about the—the Speedway? Do you like car racing?”

      He shrugged. “It’s okay. I went a few times in high school.

      “What else did you do growing up in Talladega?”

      Seriously? He’d rather go through BUD/S training all over again than talk about his life before the Navy. “Not much.”

      The woman stayed quiet so long he knew—he just knew—she was staring at him expectantly. What? She wanted him to spill his life story? Not gonna happen. “It was just a regular town, with regular people, okay?”

      “Okay.” She sounded disappointed. “So, you’re like a Special Forces kind of guy in the military? What is that, a Marine?”

      He scoffed and threw her an insulted glare she probably couldn’t see. “I’m a US Navy SEAL.”

      “Oooo, wow. A SEAL? Like the guys that got Bin Laden? Were you there?”

      He shook his head. “That was SEAL Team 6.”

      “What’s the difference? I mean, do all the teams have different specialties?”

      “Some. SEAL Team 6 focuses more on counterterrorism. We’re SEAL Team 2. Artic Warfare, Rescue Ops.”

      “Well, thank you for coming after me—us.”

      “That’s my job.”

      “Right, of course.”

      Clay sighed. That hadn’t come out right. She’d been a real trooper, considering they’d traipsed through the jungle all day in sweltering conditions, and she’d almost been bitten by a venomous coral snake. She was just trying to make it through the night. Seemed the least he could do was talk to her.

      Besides, after tomorrow, he’d never see her again. She’d asked about growing up in Talladega? He quietly sighed. “So, no Peach Jam Jubilee where you’re from?”

      “In Texas?” She sounded insulted, but in a good-natured way. He caught her white teeth in the darkness. “It’s all football, all the time. My two brothers live and breathe the game. Did you play?”

      “No, but my sister was a cheerleader.”

      “Does she still live in Talladega?”

      “Yep. I’m the only one that got out.”

      “Got out? You didn’t like it there?”

      He ground his back teeth. “Just nothing for me there. More opportunities elsewhere.”

      She made a nodding-in-agreement type sound. “That’s why I moved to New York. I want to help my parents. They work so hard.” He could hear the genuine love in her voice and it bothered him.

      “My papa is the grounds custodian for a famous shrine in San Juan. My mama cleans houses. I was the first one in my family to graduate high school.”

      Clay was pretty sure his mom and stepfather hadn’t graduated high school either. Even Ashley almost hadn’t. And he’d left for basic training before his own graduation ceremony. No walking across the stage to get his diploma or throw his cap in the air. It’s not like his parents would’ve gone, anyway.

      “What do your parents do?”

      He snapped shut his memories. “They both work at the quarry.”

      “Quarry? I didn’t know Alabama had a quarry.”

      “More than one. Probably the largest industry in the state. If I hadn’t joined the Navy I’d probably still be working there.”

      “You worked there, too? Like, actually digging out the rocks?”

      “Yep.”

      “What kind of stone?”

      “Marble, mostly. Some limestone, and a few other minerals, but Alabama’s famous for its white marble.”

      “Huh.”

      “Started when I was fourteen. Lied about my age to get the job, too, if you can believe that. It was backbreaking work. Other than my paycheck every two weeks, I hated everything about it.”

      She made a sympathetic sound and he squeezed his eyes closed. How had they switched to talking about his life again? “Tell me about New York.”

      She made a different sound this time, a hum somewhere between excitement and nervousness. “Manhattan is so different from my little hometown. Growing up I never would’ve thought I’d live there. I have a little studio apartment in Greenwich Village. It’s small, but I love it. There’s a library right across the street and on the weekends, I love to take my laptop and just hang out there.”

      “At the library? You live in one of the most exciting cities in the world. Don’t you want to party on the weekends?”