Hot SEAL, Labor Day by Cynthia D’Alba
Chapter 4
Ana’s heart raced as her breathing labored. The pages in her book stuck to her sweaty fingers. The heroine was in so much trouble. The bad guy had her trapped below ground, and her lover, the town’s sheriff, didn’t know where she was. She was the only person who realized the town doctor was the serial killer and now she was in his grasp.
Ana turned the page and—
“Ready for a beer?”
She screamed and chunked the book toward the voice. Sawyer chuckled, catching the book before it hit his forehead.
“Ohmygod,” she said, pressing her hand to her chest where her heart was beating a million times a minute. “You scared the bejesus out of me.”
“Bejesus?” He laughed and climbed onto her porch. “I haven’t heard that word in a long time.”
“My grandmother, my dad’s mother, used to say that when I would jump out from behind the couch and surprise her.” She grinned and took the bottle of beer he offered. “Now I know how she must have felt. My heart almost jumped out of my chest,” she said with a laugh. She hoped this beer tasted better than the last time she’d tried to drink one. But it sounded so pretentious to ask for wine, or at least she thought so.
“Good book, huh?”
“So good, and scary.”
“Scary, huh? I might have to skip it. Could give me nightmares,” he said with a wink.
“Right. Big, strong SEAL having nightmares from a book.”
He straightened and puffed out his chest. “Big and strong, huh? What about good-looking and sexy?”
She rolled her eyes. “Like you don’t own a mirror,” she said with a scoff.
He laughed as he pretended to fluff his hair. “So, you read all afternoon?”
“It was wonderful, but maybe I might need to read something less suspenseful. The idea is relaxation.”
Gesturing toward her beer with his, he said, “Santé,” and tapped his beer to hers.
“Santé.” She took a little sip and fought the grimace that wanted to make itself known. Surely if she drank enough, she’d get used to the taste. “Do you speak French?” she asked, trying to deflect the conversation away from the beer.
“Oui.” He shrugged. “Pas bien.”
“Not well? I suspect you’re being modest.”
“I do okay. I mean, I get around France without too many sneers.”
She laughed. “That alone is a feat. Any others?”
“Sí, pero de nuevo no bien.”
“But I bet you can order a beer in Mexico without a problem.”
“Sí. Cerveza, por favor. And even more important is dónde está el baño?”
She laughed. “Yes, I agree that knowing where the bathroom is located is important after drinking lots of beer.”
He grinned. “You speak French and Spanish?”
“A little of both, enough to order a meal.”
“Any others?”
She shrugged and glanced down. Her parents had always told her that bragging was vulgar. Her reply came hesitantly. “Some. A little Portuguese, some Italian, some German, but I totally suck at Russian.”
He leaned back in his chair with a whistle. “I can’t decide if I’m impressed or intimidated.”
“Don’t be either. You said you traveled as a kid. You know how you pick up things as a kid.” She lifted one shoulder. “That’s how it was for me. After a few different languages, new ones come easier. Now, when are we starting the fire?”
“Do I have a pyromaniac as a neighbor?”
She grinned. “Guilty, but I can totally control the urges.” She held up two fingers. “I swear. You can check. No buildings burned down.”
No buildings, but she was in the process of burning down her relationship with Randall and her parents. She didn’t give a flip about Geoffrey one way or the other, which might distress those around her trying to convince her that Geoffrey was her future.
“Something wrong with your beer?” he asked.
“What? Oh, umm, no. It’s great.” She took another sip.
He shook his head. “Woman, confess. You’re not a beer drinker.”
Her shoulders slumped. “But I want to be.”
He laughed. “Tell you what. We’ll get the fire going, and while you watch it, I’ll get the red wine from my cabin I bought for you.”
Her mouth gaped.
“Yeah, I figured you’d be relieved.”
With a smile, she saluted. “Pyromaniac reporting for duty, sir.”
The rest of the evening seemed to fly by. Of course, the passage to time was helped by the bottle of excellent merlot he’d bought for her.
She discovered she liked her hot dog skins crispy and her marshmallows slightly brown. S’mores were the best dessert she’d ever had.
As she licked her fingers after her third s’more, she said with a sigh, “I think I’m in love.”
Sawyer patted his chest. “With me? Love at first sight?”
She laughed. “I think you mean, love at first bite.” She licked the sticky marshmallow off the fingers of her other hand. “I don’t know where this bad boy has been all my life.”
He chuckled. “Girl scout camp?”
“Nope. Never went. I did go to music camp when I was sixteen, but the meals were catered, and no desserts were allowed.”
With a grimace, he said, “Sounds horrible.”
She thought about that summer. She’d met Joey Collins at camp. He was there for the trumpet, she for piano. He had great lips, probably from blowing on that horn for hours at a time. She’d had sex with Joey while they’d been at camp. It’d been okay, but she’d failed to see what all the hype was about. They’d promised to stay in touch, but they hadn’t, and she didn’t think either of them had cared that much about that.
She smiled. “Some parts were better than others.”
He studied her face for a moment and then smiled. “Music camp sex.”
Her mouth dropped. “W….what?” Her shoulders drew back, and she sat up straighter. With a sniff, she said, “I have no idea what you mean.”
He roared with laughter. “You most certainly do.” He leaned in as though they were passing secrets. “What was his name?” he whispered. “I promise I’ll never tell.”
She groaned. “Joey.”
He snorted. “Joey? Not Joe? What kind of teen still goes by Joey?”
“He was a good trumpet player.”
Sawyer laughed again. “Great lips, am I right?”
Dropping her head back on her shoulders, she groaned again. “Get out of my head.”
His grin said he was enjoying this way too much.
“Fine then,” she said. “Who was your first?”
“Julie Baker,” he said with a sigh. “What a woman.”
“If she’s so great, why aren’t you with her?”
“Well, I was fourteen, and she was eighteen and leaving for college. She blew me off for older guys,” he said with disgust. “Can you image? Dumping all this prime flesh for a college man.”
She laughed. “Bet she’d be sorry today.”
“So, we’re back to talking about my sexiness and devastatingly good looks?”
With a snort, she said, “And we’ve come full circle. I think that means it’s time for me to leave so you can be alone with yourself.”
She stood. He grasped her hand.
“Thank you for one of my best days in a while,” he said.
She smiled at him. “Me, too.”
“Tomorrow?” His eyes were questioning.
Did she want to spend the day with him tomorrow, too? Heck, yeah, but maybe she needed to stick a little pin in his ego.
“I don’t know,” she said, making her voice sound hesitant. “I do have that book to read.”
He lifted an eyebrow. She’d seen that before, and darn if it wasn’t cute.
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. What’s the plan?”
“I know you hate surprises, but you liked the red wine surprise, right? It’s Sunday, so maybe the tourists will sleep in a little. I know something I think you would enjoy. Trust me?”
First, the disdain in his voice when he said tourists cracked her up. Second, did she trust someone she’d only known a day? Why did she feel like she could?
She blew out a long and loud sigh. “Fine. I’ll trust you, but…” She narrowed her eyes threateningly. “You’re on probation. We’ll see how you do.”
He placed a light kiss on her knuckles. “See you tomorrow. Seven, if you want breakfast.”
“Seven, it is. Night.”
“Night.”
Ana headed inside her cabin, shocked to see that it was close to ten-thirty. Not that ten-thirty was all that late, but they’d lit the fire a little after six. Those hours had seemed like minutes.
Tomorrow was another day of freedom, and one more day closer to her thirtieth birthday. Would she have a clue what to do by then?
The next morning,Ana was on her porch by six a.m, strong and caffeinated—because who was going to tell her she couldn’t?—coffee perched on her chair arm beside her elbow. The lake show, i.e., crazy boaters and jet skis, were already zooming up and down in front of her. For a large lake, her little area sure seemed to get a lot of traffic. As she watched, a boat pulling a couple of young kids on a large towable innertube passed in front. The kids’ screams and laughs echoed off the lake, pulling a smile to her mouth.
Her parents, and then Randall, would never have allowed her to do something like that. She could break a finger, or even an arm, and then what? Other than the month she’d spent at music camp, she’d rarely been left alone to make her own decisions. It had occurred to her that sex with Joey Collins had been more about striking out at all her restrictions more than lust-driven passion.
But she’d gotten that pesky virginity thing behind her, not that she’d used that freedom very much. A couple of times in college—again making her wonder what was the big deal about sex? When she read romance novels, the heroine was always having screaming orgasms. She had been mainly glad to have the deed done and over so she could get back to her piano.
Once she’d gotten through her doctorate in music, she’d hit a serious sexual dry spell…like her vagina was probably dusty. She was chuckling at the thought when she heard Sawyer’s cabin door slam.
“Morning,” he called, his voice all strong and cheerful.
How could people be happy and peppy in the morning? It wasn’t natural. She’d actually gotten up early so she could pour a couple of cups of coffee in her before she had to deal with people. If she was this grumpy with caffeine, she knew she had to be worse without it. Suddenly she felt bad about all those early morning rehearsals when she might have been a tad touchy.
She lifted her coffee mug in a salute. “Getting my caffeine. Trust me, you want me caffeinated up.”
He chuckled and joined her on the porch. He carried his own mug. “I understand,” he said, tapping his mug to hers. “How’s the show?” He tipped his head toward the lake.
“Entertaining.”
“You ever waterskied?”
“I’ve never been on a small boat. I’ve been on a large liner, even a yacht or two, but nothing like I’m seeing in front of us.”
“That settles it. We’re taking a boat out. Do you swim?”
She scoffed. “Of course, I swim.”
“Good, but I’m a pretty good life guard.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You know, in case you almost drown and need mouth-to-mouth.”
She looked at him and then made a dramatic roll of her eyes, which made him snort.
“So, what’s on the agenda today?”
“Up a mountain.”
“But…” She frowned. “Didn’t you just say we’d get a boat?”
He nodded. “Yep, but…” He tilted his head toward Lake Kincade. “Traffic today will be crazy. Check the waves. A boat ride will be choppy and rough. By Tuesday or Wednesday, the lake will be calmer with fewer boats, and a boat ride much more enjoyable. But if you want to head out today…?”
“I’d rather wait until we have the lake to ourselves.”
He chuckled. “Well, not exactly to ourselves. Now about the mountain…”
“Didn’t we do the mountain yesterday?”
“Ah, yes, but different mountain, and…” He added when she opened her mouth to speak. “And, this one has activities to do. It’ll be crowded, so we’ll need, or at least I’ll need, to wear my coat of patience.”
“Coat of patience, huh? Do you get easily impatient?”
He smiled. “Not really. I’ve had to fit in and adapt to so many new schools, locations, and teams, I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”
“Teams? I don’t understand.”
“SEAL teams.”
“Excuse my denseness, but why do you have to adapt to a bunch of different teams? Maybe too much television, but don’t SEALs get on a team and stay there?” She hoped it wasn’t because no one liked him or could work with him. That would definitely affect her opinion of him, which was quite high at the moment.
“I’m a Navy SEAL floater. That means, I fill in when a team needs an extra man. Sometimes, guys retire and the team leader is looking for just the right guy. That’s where I am now. Sadly, sometimes a SEAL does die on duty, but his responsibilities still have to be fulfilled. So, I go where I’m needed.”
“Do you like that? Sounds lonely.”
He shrugged. “It works for me. When will you be ready to go?”
She noted his abrupt change of subject. Rather than try to dig out more information about his job, she said, “Ready.” She wiggled her toes. “Just have to get some shoes. Jeans okay for today?”
“Yes, ma’am. Perfect.”
“Bike, or are we taking my car?”
He sighed. “Your car is a deathtrap.”
“It is not,” she said indigently. “She just needs a little love to make her shine.”
“Love? How about paint and new tires? Does the radio even work?”
Warmth climbed her neck, and she was sure her cheeks were red. “It works…sort of.”
His eyebrows arched. “Sort of? What does that mean?”
“I get AM, okay?”
He threw his head back with a deep laugh. “AM? I didn’t even know there were still AM stations.”
She joined his laughing. “There’s not much, but if you love gospel music, preaching, and right-wing conspiracies, I’ve got you covered.”
“Oh, lord,” he said, still laughing. “Fine. We’ll take your car since we’re only going a few miles, but I’m driving.”
“Fine,” she said with a shrug. “But don’t hurt my baby.”
He was still laughing when she went inside to get her shoes.
Sawyer promised her breakfast when they got to the top of the mountain. That promise was the only reason she let him drive past DD’s Diner. She’d been craving waffles.
He hadn’t been wrong about the short drive. A couple of miles past the diner, he pulled into a lot at the base of the mountain. Climbing the mountain directly in front of the car was a chairlift, chair after chair going up the side.
“Are we getting on that?” she asked, pointing to the chairlift.
“Yep. All the way up.”
She gulped.
“Are you scared of heights?” His face was full of concern. “I mean, I didn’t even think about that. If you are, I mean, we can do something else.”
“Oh, no, no,” she said, pushing a heavy dose of gaiety into her voice. “Not a problem. Not a problem at all.”
“Have you been on a chairlift before?”
“No, but it looks like a grand adventure.”
He studied her face. She smiled broadly like one does when one is boldface lying. Well, she wasn’t exactly lying. She’d never had a problem on a plane, and those were high in the air, right? Surely a few feet off the ground couldn’t be worse, right?
“Okay, then. Let’s do this.”
He bought their tickets and held her hand as they stood in line for the lift. As the chairs entered the terminal, people stepped in front of the oncoming seat and were swept off their feet and up into the air. She suspected her hand was sweaty, because her heart raced with nerves.
Then, too soon, it was their turn to load on the lift.
Sawyer led over to the platform. “Our chair is coming. Bend your knees a little.”
She did.
“Perfect,” he said. “Now, let the chair scoop under your butt.”
The edge of the wooden seat bumped her thighs, causing her to sit.
“That’s it,” he said with a wide grin. “You did it.”
Sawyer lowered a metal bar across their laps, she assumed to keep them from falling out.
She looked down as the earth moved away. She’d been wrong, wrong, wrong. Legs dangling out of a chair a million feet off the ground while it races up the side of a mountain was so much worse than being on a plane.
“How long does this take?” Her voice was a little shaky
Sawyer looked over at her and held out his hand, palm up. “Want to hang on to something?”
“Yes,” she exclaimed and grabbed his hand. “Do we ride this back down?”
“We can, but there’s another way to come down.”
“In a car?”
He laughed and squeezed her fingers. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Ana Cristiano.”
They rode for a couple of minutes and then he asked, “I was thinking last night about something you said. You were in Germany when you were about seven, right?”
She nodded, her voice deciding it wasn’t needed, unless she wanted to scream, and then it’d be all over that.
“How old are you now?”
She swallowed. “Trying to distract me? That’s nice, but—”
“Nope. Age. Cough it up.”
With a chuckle, she said, “I’ll be thirty on Thursday.”
He turned slightly in the chair to look at her.
“Be careful,” she demanded. “You have the car keys. If you fall off, how will I get home?”
That made him gasp with laughter. “Oh, Ana. You are a funny one. We have to do something special on Thursday for sure. What’s your favorite birthday celebration? We’ll do that.”
“Umm, I don’t have a favorite birthday celebration. Usually, I have to play those nights.”
Like every other night of her life. If a group of people jumped out and yelled “Surprise,” she’d probably have a stroke and die on the spot.
“Well, that’s awful. I suggest we plan something awesome and totally unforgettable that day, right?”
She smiled. “That sound’s nice.”
“Nice? Hell, woman, it’s your birthday. I don’t do nice. I do memorable. And look, we made it to the top.”
Ana swung her head away from his handsome face. “Hey. That wasn’t bad at all. Told you I wasn’t afraid of heights.”
He chuckled. “Right. When we get to the landing, we stand, and hurry down the ramp out of the way of the next chair. The lift is made for snow skiers, so they just glide down the ramp on skis. We get to run.”
“I can do that. Tell me when.”
“Just keep holding my hand and follow my lead.”
She liked holding his hand. His fingers were thick and a little callused. Her thin fingers felt safe and protected surrounded by his.
They neared the ramp. The chair safety bar lifted.
“Now,” he said, and pulled her out of the chair. They raced down the ramp, him grinning and her laughing like a loon.
“You did it,” he said. “Never had a doubt.”
“I might have had one or two,” she said with a grin. “Now, food. My tummy demands food.”
She noticed he didn’t drop her hand as he led them to a log building with the word EATS above the door. “Eats? Really?”
“I know. Corny as crap, but good eats.”
She giggled. “You haven’t led me wrong yet, so lead on.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Just give me time.”
They hurried to the last empty table for two and collapsed into chairs.
“Whew. I was worried I wasn’t going to beat that old couple trying to get this table,” he said with a broad smile. “I guess we’re lucky she was using a cane.”
Ana laughed and punched his arm. “You are so bad. There wasn’t any old couple.”
“Not right now, but I guarantee we’ll run into plenty today.”
They ordered coffee and juice while they each studied the large chalkboard hanging on the wall with the day’s specials. With relief, she saw a pecan waffle with warm maple syrup as one of the choices.
“Let me guess,” he said. “Pecan waffle with warm syrup and an order of crisp bacon.”
She smiled innocently. “It’s like you’re a mind reader.”
He buffed his nails on his shirt. “What can I say? Too many smarts for my own good.”
She rolled her eyes then chuckled. She realized she hadn’t laughed or chuckled or, heaven forbid, giggled in a long time. Sawyer Beckett was good for her soul.
Breakfast was as delicious, and filling, as DD’s Diner had been.
As they exited the restaurant, she patted her belly. “I’m stuffed.”
“But happy?”
“Oh, yeah. So very happy.”
He took her hand again and they walked around the area. “In the winter, this is filled with skiers, snow depending, of course. But in the summer months, I’ve seen lots of families up here.” He pointed. “Miniature golf over there.” He gestured to the right. “There’s go-karts over there. Behind those, there’s a ropes course, but I’m thinking that isn’t your thing.”
“I know what a ropes course is, and I’ll pass, thankyouverymuch. But don’t let me slow you down. Feel free to jungle climb and walk skinny ropes from tree to tree.”
He grinned. “Too much like my day job. I’ll pass. There’s also a zipline where they pull you up a line and you get to zip back down.”
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow and an upturned lip. “Seriously?”
He laughed. “I thought you might skip, but honestly, it’s not bad and kind of fun.”
“Isn’t that like your day job again?”
“Yes, but it’s one of the best parts. Nothing like rappelling out of a helicopter.”
“I’ll pass. Next?”
He grinned. “Well, there is the alpine slide, which is okay for kids ages five and up.”
“I could probably handle that.”
“And last, but the best thing up here is—”
“Wait. Let me guess. Some type of ride that goes really fast.”
“A mountain gravity-controlled roller coaster, and before you say, ‘No way’ the rider can control the speed. Slow down. Speed up. Whatever you want.”
“Hmm. Maybe. Can we work our way up to that?”
“Miniature golf, it is.”
Through the whole discussion and his pointing, he never let go of her hand. She found she didn’t mind that. In fact, she might have liked it.
At miniature golf, they got in line behind a senior couple, only the man was using the cane instead of the woman. Sawyer elbowed her and nodded his head toward the couple.
“I was close,” he whispered in the ear.
His warm breath tickled her ear and sent chills down her back. She didn’t reply because she was too busy trying to tame her shivers.
Two putters and two balls later—purple for him and pink for her—they stepped up to the first hole.
“I should warn you that I almost went pro,” she said, putting an extremely serious expression on her face.
“Really? Instead of piano?”
She shrugged. “It was seriously a toss-up.” She lifted her hands and raised the right one. “Golf?” Then she lowered it and raised the left. “Piano?”
He chuckled. “Good thing we don’t have a bet on this match. I’d hate to lose my entire paycheck to a hustler.”
She grinned. “Ladies, first.”
He scoffed. “Of course.”
She tapped the golf ball, and fate smiled on her. The first hole required she pass the ball under a bear who straddled the path to the hole. Once past him, the hole was straight ahead. Her pink ball rolled very slowly through the bear’s legs and out. She raced to the end to see what would happen. When her ball got to the hole, it sat there for a couple of seconds before it dropped into the cup.
With a shout, she jumped. “Hole-in-one,” she announced, as if she’d performed some fabulous feat.
“I see that,” he said with a smile. “Now, I’m all nervous and shit.”
She laughed.
Sawyer’s purple ball flew past the bear and the hole, bouncing off the rear board and coming to a stop about four inches from the cup. He tapped it in.
Pulling the score card from his hip, he said, “Let’s see, two pars, right?”
“Ha, ha. That’s a sad par for you and a rocking birdie for me.”
They continued the game, the lead swinging back and forth between them. She suspected, but would never be able to prove, that he was letting her win. Fine. She had no problem kicking a SEAL’s ass.
In fact, on the sixteenth hole, she set her ball down and looked at him. “If you’re letting me win, that’s fine. I will have no guilty conscience about humiliating you on this course.”
“Oh, baby. That was the wrong thing to say.” His eyes narrowed. “The gauntlet has been thrown down. Prepare to lose.”
She looked at the windmill turning in front of her. Yeah, this would be a challenge. The timing had to be perfect or her ball would get kicked back by one of the blades. She counted the blades and tried to time how long it took another blade to cover the opening after the last one left.
“C’mon, lady,” a teen standing behind Sawyer said. “Just hit the ball.”
Sawyer whipped around. “Don’t ever talk to a lady like that.”
The kid opened his mouth, studied Sawyer, and backed away.
“Take all the time you want,” Sawyer said, as though she were putting for the LPGA championship.
She approached her ball, wiggled her hips to get settled, watched the blades, and hit her ball. It sailed into the windmill between two turning blades. It didn’t, however, drop into the hole. That was fine. She’d shown those punks who was the boss babe here.
“Great shot, Ana,” Sawyer said. “I only hope I can do as well.”
She didn’t roll her eyes, but she wanted to. If she’d learned nothing else about Sawyer, he wasn’t only competitive, but his eye-hand coordination was off the charts.
His purple ball followed hers through and dropped directly into the cup.
“Nice,” the teen behind him said.
Sawyer nodded, took Ana’s hand, and walked to the end of the hole, where he patiently waited as she tapped in her ball.
She grinned and pulled her ball out. “All yours,” she shouted to the waiting teens.
“We’re neck-and-neck,” he announced after adding their strokes. “Two more holes to pull out a win.”
“Hmm, are you talking to yourself for encouragement?”
He chuckled. “Maybe.”
They tied the seventeenth hole, each taking a par.
“This is it, cowboy. You’re going down.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
She heard the sexual innuendo as it left her mouth. Really, Ana. You needed to engage brain before mouth.
“I guess we’ll see,” she said, fully aware of what she was implying, but then again, did she really? She’d heard the term to go down on a woman, she’d read about it in books, but she had no idea what that felt like. Seemed yucky to her. Why would a guy want to put his mouth down there?
Designed to collect the golf balls at the end of the game, the eighteenth green was a simple shot into a mine shaft. There was a slight curve to the right, but shouldn’t be tough. It was, in her humble opinion, the easiest hole of the course.
She set her ball down and wiggled her hips.
“That’s not going to work,” he whispered in her ear.
Those blasted chill bumps popped on her arms. “Umm, what isn’t going to work?’
He chuckled low and deep in her ear. “You’re not going to distract me by wiggling your hips. I’m on to you, lady.”
She looked at him, her eyes wide with shock. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Right,” he said with a laugh and stepped back to let her go first.
Her shot careened off the tee, hit the back board, and rolled back to the middle of the path.
She whirled toward him, her hands fisted on her hips. “You did that on purpose.”
He put his hand on his chest. “I have no idea what you mean,” he parroted back to her, then grinned. “Go on. Finish the hole.”
Later, if she told this story, she would swear her poor play was due to those darned goose bumps and those were his fault, so by association, he caused her to two-putt.
He stepped up. “I hate to do this to you, hon, but…” He stroked his club. The purple ball sailed down the path and into the hole like it was metal and the hole was the world’s strongest magnet.
“Not fair,” she complained jokingly. “You’ve played this course before.”
He draped his arm over her shoulders. “Ah, babe. Be the good loser I know you can be.”
She laughed and bumped her hip against his. “Let’s find a piano and have a real contest.”
He chuckled and pulled her closer. “Yeah, I don’t think so. But, I would love to hear you play.” With a wink, he asked, “Can you play the theme to Star Wars?”
“Seriously? Star Wars? Are you a Trekkie?”
He laughed. “A Trekkie is a Star Trek fan, not Star Wars.” He shook his head.
“This is so sad. Your education is obviously lacking in substance.”
With a careless shrug, she said, “Whatever. They’re the same thing.”
He gasped. “Dear lord, woman. They aren’t even close to the same thing.” He pulled an imaginary notebook from his hip pocket, pretended to flip it open, and began to write.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a snort.
“Making myself a note of movies I need to rent.”
She rolled her eyes.
He tucked the invisible notebook back into his pocket. “Ready for the roller coaster yet? Or maybe the zipline?”
“Go-karts.”
They headed toward the racetrack, such as it was. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the theme to Star Wars. He really had no idea of just how good she was, or even who she was. Man, she really liked that he wasn’t buttering her up for a favor. People were always trying to get her to play for a party or a wedding—gasp.
The line at the go-karts was long with parents and kids.
“Let’s grab a drink and wait until the line dies down,” he suggested.
“Perfect.”
With drinks in hand—Diet Coke for her, Mountain Dew for him—they found an empty bench and sat.
“Do you remember on the way up here that I asked your age?” he asked.
“I certainly do. Don’t you know you never ask a lady her age?” She grinned so he would know she was kidding.
“I had a reason. I think, but I’m not sure, I think I’ve heard you play.”
Her heart skittered to a stop. “What? When?”
“Back in Germany. You said you were about seven. I would have been about nine. Did you play at Schloss Kaserne in Butzbach?”
“Yes,” she said hesitantly, drawing out the word.
“Did you build a snowman with a bunch of the kids who went to school on the base?”
“Maybe,” she said, again hesitantly. What was going on here?
He tapped his chest. “I was one of those kids.”
Her jaw sagged. “You were not.”
“I was. I swear. Mom made me go to anything that resembled culture, and you playing classical music fit the bill for her.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Hell, no. I was nine. I wanted to hear current bands.” He smiled. “But I remember the cute girl at the piano.”
She dipped her head, sure her cheeks were flaming. “That was one of my earliest concerts. My piano teacher convinced my parents to let me go with a group of students who were going over to play for the troops.”
“I don’t remember your parents.”
“Mom didn’t go. She had some fund-raising event for the Chicago Philharmonic that she was in charge of and didn’t want to hand it off to her co-chair. Dad went, but he spent a lot of time sampling the German beers.”
“Can’t blame him for that. The Germans produce excellent beer, but I don’t remember meeting him, either.”
“You probably didn’t. In fact, I met my manager, Randall Blagg, on that trip. His son, Geoffrey, was one of the students playing.”
Sawyer shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t remember anyone other than some girl with long wavy hair and a big grin. You marched onto that stage with such confidence.”
She laughed. “I’m sure. I thought I was hot stuff. Life got a little harder when I discovered there were a lot of talented pianists in the world. If I wanted to make it, I knew I had to up my game. Are you telling me that when you had this memory, you didn’t go research my name?”
This time, his face flushed.
“Ah-ha. You did,” she said with a flair.
“Yeah, okay, I looked last night.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He grimaced. “I felt a little like a stalker. And, I confess, I was a little awed by all your awards and records.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t seem awed.”
“But I am. I’m a SEAL. I can be replaced, but someone with your talent? You only come along once in a lifetime.”
“Thank you. I’m flattered.”
“Bullshit. You know you’re good.”
She smiled shyly. “Yeah,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I know. God, I love it, too.” She surprised herself with that comment. She did love it. She loved the practice, the performances, the ovations…all of it.
“So, why are you hiding in Lake Kincade and driving a beater car?”