Hot SEAL, Heartbreaker - Cat Johnson Page 0,20
men like you hang out, yes, yes I have.”
“Men like me?”
“Sailors,” she qualified.
“Ah.” He nodded. “Jason was a sailor.”
“I’m aware.”
“And what do you have against sailors?”
“Nothing. I respect their sacrifices for our country.”
“But . . .”
“But, I don’t want to date one.” She didn’t want to date anyone at the moment, but she didn’t get into that with him. He might want to know why. And she wasn’t willing to open her soul or her past to him, or anyone.
“Ah, but you are dating a sailor,” he said.
“Fake dating,” she reminded him. “And fake dating a sailor is better than blind dating whoever Jenny comes up with.”
“I agree.” He nodded. “I thought my teammates were annoying when it came to their prying into my life, but your sister . . . you win the prize.”
She blew out a breath. “Thanks. But tonight should keep her happy and off my back for a while.”
Brian had made quite an impression. And actually, now that she thought about it, his being in the military worked perfectly. Next party, or holiday, she’d just tell Jenny he was away.
If she played her cards right, she could have her devoted and loving boyfriend absent from family events and stretch this fake relationship out for a solid year. Or more. Between missions, trainings and deployments, this fake relationship could run for years, plural.
“We’re here.” He pulled over to the curb of the bar she hadn’t noticed they’d reached as she plotted her future deception.
“Oh, good.” Her new plan deserved a beer.
“Good?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes. I’m looking forward to you buying me a Wit.”
He smiled. “If that’s all it takes to make you happy, I’ll buy you two.”
“Sounds good.” She grinned, giddy that the plan had worked.
Her sister was convinced. She was free. Valentine’s Day was over. Or at least the worst part of it—the party—was over. And there was a nice cold free beer in her future.
Perfect.
EIGHT
Brian bought Alicia three rounds of beer and was happy to do it.
Enough people he knew had seen him with her. The word would spread that he was with a woman, which was nothing new. But what would be new was when he continued to pretend to date her. It was the best way he could figure to finally ditch the reputation and, fingers crossed, the nickname that came with it.
How could they call him a heartbreaker if he had a serious long-term girlfriend? They couldn’t. And that was exactly what he wanted.
It would even be believable they were really together because the more they talked, the more relaxed she got . . . or maybe it was just the beer.
He eyed the level in her glass. “You doing okay? I don’t want to be responsible for you getting drunk.”
“I can get drunk if I want. Besides, after that party, I deserve it. You’re driving. Are you okay?” She focused on his mug.
“I’m fine to drive. No worries. But I don’t want you thinking I’m plying you with beer so I can take advantage of you.”
She cocked up a brow and was silent for a moment before saying, “What if I want to take advantage of you?”
He paused mid-motion as he reached for his beer. He pulled his hand back and focused on her eyes.
Was this a joke? Was she drunk?
Or—and he was starting to hope this was the reason—was she interested in him? In them. Together. In bed.
Because if she were into this, he was too.
The big red paper hearts, looking so out of place taped to the mirror behind where Ray poured beer, caught his eye.
Valentine’s Day.
He swallowed, reminded just in time to not ignore his golden rule about women and this holiday from hell.
“Do you? Want to take advantage of me?” he asked, torn about what he wanted her answer to be.
She narrowed her eyes and stared at the bottles behind the bar, nodding slowly. Finally she shifted her focus to him and said, “Maybe.”
Her answer wasn’t cute. Or flirty. It was just a one-word, to the point response to his question.
Apparently she was torn as well. This wasn’t some cat and mouse game.
This woman, who he was realizing thought too much and too deeply about all things, was actually trying to decide if she wanted him or not.
She definitely wasn’t like the rest of the women he’d known.
It didn’t matter what she ultimately decided, because he had made the choice for both of them already.
He tossed his credit card on the bar and waved Ray over.