Hot SEAL, Heartbreaker - Cat Johnson Page 0,2
dropped before pressing the phone back to her ear.
“No. I just don’t know what to say to that.”
“To what?”
“You giving up men.”
“Why?” Alicia laughed.
“Well, during the past few years I’ve watched you go from being a complete monogamist for a decade with you-know-who, to whipping through more men than The Bachelorette does in a season.”
“There was a reason for that,” Alicia defended.
“I know and believe me, I’m not judging. It’s just hard to believe that now you’re giving up men.”
“Not forever.” Probably . . .
“Why now suddenly?” Shelly asked.
Many reasons.
That parts of her still felt completely broken inside after the break-up was the main one. One she didn’t talk about. Not with anyone.
She’d opened a steadily revolving door of rebound men while the fissure left in her heart healed. Low involvement, low risk, safe . . . unsatisfying encounters with men. . . But still, her heart hurt.
But also, she was just plain tired. Tired of it all. And that she had no problem admitting to her friend.
“Honestly, Shell? It’s exhausting.”
“You mean your sister’s set-ups and blind dates?” Shelly asked.
“Yes, but more than that. Dating. Men in general. I’m tired of it all.”
Alicia’s most recent encounters included one guy who wouldn’t stop calling her after their one and only date.
Another guy she’d met at this very bar was secretly married. She’d only found out about that when his wife had called him in the middle of his buying her a drink and trying to invite himself back to her place.
Then there was the real reason she was shying away from relationships. Statistically speaking, not seriously dating any one man was the best way to not get hurt. She trusted data more than people.
If she didn’t get seriously involved, she couldn’t get broken up with. Been there, done that, wasn’t looking for a repeat.
Yup. She was ready to be done with men for a little while. Or maybe a long while. She’d see how it went.
“I’m just glad you’re coming to Jenny’s Valentine’s Day party so you can help run interference for any hook-ups she has planned.”
“Yeah. About that.”
Alicia’s eyes widened. “No. Shell. Please don’t tell me—”
“I’m so, so sorry. I have to work on Valentine's Day night for the live show. The executive producer just told me. I'm not going to be able to come to your sister's party.”
“Great." She scowled.
“Sorry. I really am.” Shell sounded miserable.
Alicia couldn’t blame her for what her boss demanded. "It's okay. I understand. Work is work."
"Text me if you need a rescue, though. I can get away long enough to call you with a fake emergency. You can say you have to come save me and have a good excuse to leave the party."
"I might take you up on that." Alicia wasn't above faking her way out of this party and whatever hook-up her sister had planned.
“Shit. The EP is calling me. I gotta go. But we’ll continue this discussion about your sudden aversion to dating later.”
Great. With a sigh, Alicia said, “Okay. Talk soon. Bye.”
She disconnected the call and set down her cell.
Her love life was the last thing she wanted to discuss. Hopefully Shelly would have forgotten by the next time they got together.
At least that discussion wouldn’t be tonight. Her girl’s night out had turned to a party of one.
She glanced around, hoping to catch the server so she could ask her to box her order to go. She spotted her just as a man cut across the waitress’s path, almost knocking into her in a beeline that led directly toward Alicia . . .
TWO
Brian Anderson reached for the beer that Ray, McP’s old-as-the-hills bartender, planted in front of him.
He glanced down the bar where the rest of his team perched on barstools and raised the heavy mug. “To being back on US soil.”
“To not being in Nigeria,” Liam “Lucky” Jameson added.
“Or in Ethiopia,” Ted “Bear” Black continued.
“And don’t forget our little side trip to the country-that-shall-not-be-named.” Cole “Joker” Landry snorted.
“That too.” Brian let out a short laugh.
It was easy to laugh now that they were safely home from that one country they weren’t supposed to be in, but had been anyway. While they’d been in-country it had definitely not been a laughing matter.
“Here’s to sleeping in a real bed.” Gage “Gator” Fontenot, a Cajun from New Orleans, raised his mug, wisely changing the topic away from the taboo subject of that one mission.
“And to cold beer,” added Eli Miller, aka Wolf, short for Wolfgang because of his love of cooking.
“To