Hemingway - Zoe Dawson Page 0,24

to Shea. “I should drop you for twenty,” he said his expression hard. Hemingway had no doubt that Mad Max was serious. The man had put him through plenty when they’d been training, and he was both a bit worried and a bit pleased that someone from Team Seven was here. His proctor, no less. Didn’t mean he’d go easy on Hemingway, but it was nice to see a recognizable face, albeit maybe not necessarily a friendly one.

“Hmm, I’d say forty,” Shea said with a smile as she accepted the cup.

“Whose side are you on, turncoat?”

“I’m not the one who will be subject to Mad Max’s instruction in the next couple of months. Am I?”

Mad Max chuckled and said, “I think we both are on the same page, lady.”

Hemingway lifted his cup and said, “I’m going to have to watch my back, then.”

She leaned down and whispered as Max turned away, “Your front too. Let’s dance.”

With the visions of what that entailed, he let her pull him to the area near the bonfire, the music ramping up. She slipped her arms loosely around his neck, trapping him and holding him in place with her sexy, disarming gaze.

She ran her hand over his head. “So this is gone tonight? You’re going to look like a real Navy man?”

She tilted her head. Was she wondering what he was going to look like without his blond locks? Her own hair caressed her cheeks in disheveled waves. “You have the bone structure to pull it off. A rugged boy-next-door vibe.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” he said gruffly and placed his hands lightly on her slender waist. For now, it was the safest place for hands that wanted to slide elsewhere.

She swayed closer with the beat of the music, aligning their bodies even more intimately. “I think, in your case, sandman, they are. Very deceiving.” His body responded to the sound of her voice, a bit piqued and thoroughly intrigued.

“Unlike the guy in the bar, right? I think he was an open book.”

“He was. I read his message loud and clear and wasn’t interested. You came to my rescue, but I could have handled him with a knee to the groin if he really got out of control. It’s all about depth.”

He winced at her words but realized that sassy Shea could have held her own with the lout. It made him wonder how much more was hidden inside this beauty, and what other delights he had yet to uncover. Made him want to spend more than just a few nights finding out.

It wasn’t smart or prudent, but he was drawn to her almost against his will. If he wasn’t careful, the desire he felt for her could overrule his common sense.

Apparently, she had the same notion. Her gaze captured his and searched deep, past those many barriers he’d erected and the sensation of her touching a piece of his soul in the process had to be his imagination. “There’s more to you than meets the eye. A lot more.”

Hemingway’s lungs squeezed tight, making normal breathing difficult. She had an all too accurate intuition, not that he’d open himself up to be the vulnerable one here. He’d ducked that for a long time with the opposite sex. He didn’t want to get to any kind of revelation. He liked being in the dark with women about why he did what he did.

“What you see is what you get,” he said firmly and her eyes shuttered. Shaking her head like she was trying to clear it, she nestled her chin into the space between his jaw and collarbone. She felt good there as the music ended and a call out sounded. “Time to rid yourself of the last vestiges of your former life, gents.”

Ensign Lane took up the clippers as men started to line up, and the women cheered as each of them were shaved. Shea walked with him as he got into line. When they reached Lane, Hemingway took a seat. The Officer in Charge of BUD/S trainees looked at her. “You’re going to catalog all that we do here, correct?”

“I am,” she said.

“Why don’t you finish up? This is all about ‘team’ and if you want to be part of it, maybe you should.”

Hemingway craned around to look at Lane, then at Shea. She was surprised, but with the egging of most of the class, she took the clippers.

He turned back around and with cat calls and a stream of abuse, she set her fingers