Hot SEAL, Heartbreaker - Cat Johnson Page 0,37
that might have been a mistake.”
“Why? It wasn’t bad, was it?”
She laughed. “No. It wasn’t bad. It was good. Very, very good.”
And that was exactly why she shouldn’t have done it. Because she was going to want to do it again.
Meanwhile, it wasn’t lost on her that she’d berated Brian for saying he sometimes discussed sex with his friends and here she was, spilling the tea to her friend.
She’d have to get over the guilt of that hypocrisy. She had too many other things to worry about right now.
“Can you come over?” She felt like she needed her friend there.
“On my way. I’ll pick up breakfast. Then we can dish over exactly how good Brian was.”
“Great. Can’t wait for that conversation,” she said with as much sarcasm as she could muster.
“I know I can’t. See you soon.”
Alicia disconnected as the line went dead.
Laying the phone down she noticed her hand was shaking. She knew why too. One phone call from her ex —that she hadn’t even answered—and she was a mess.
She stared at her trembling hand as anger and pain surged through her simultaneously.
This. This was what happened when you trusted a man with your heart.
She needed to remember this horrible feeling and never let it happen to her again.
EIGHTEEN
“Brian.”
He accepted and returned the hug from his mother and was enveloped in the familiar scent of her perfume.
“Mom. It’s good to see you.”
It was less good to see the man hovering nearby, smiling as he watched the reunion.
He had a bad feeling he was about to be introduced to his mother’s new boyfriend.
When she finally pulled back from him and glanced at the stranger, he knew he was right. “Brian, I want to introduce you to Dale. He’s . . . my friend.”
He felt his brows creep up. “A good friend to travel across the country with you,” he mumbled.
Dale—he’d need his last name so he could investigate this man properly—stepped forward, hand outstretched.
“Good to meet you, son.”
Son? Oh, fuck no.
“Yeah. You too.” Brian glanced at his mother. “Did you make dinner reservations?”
Time to get this thing started . . . so it could end.
He felt bad the moment the thought crossed his mind. He hadn’t seen his mother in too long. He should be happy to spend time with her. But he hadn’t bargained for a potential future step-dad to be hanging around with them.
He’d had enough of these characters pass through his life when he’d been a kid. None of them stuck around long enough to make it official. And every one broke his mother’s heart when they left.
This one would be no different.
“Actually, Dale handled all that.” She glanced at the man again, a smile on her lips.
“Table for three, with a view.” Dale smiled pleasantly, which for some reason grated on Brian’s nerves.
He took the time to evaluate him more closely. He was older, probably around sixty. His dark hair was peppered with a good amount of gray, as was his closely cropped beard.
His clothes were quality. The suit fit well. The shoes were leather shined to perfection. The man had an air of money, which also put him on alert.
It was too easy to fake it. Who was to say if the man owed a fortune rather than owned one?
“The table’s ready, if you’d like to sit. Or we can have a drink first,” Dale offered.
“The table’s fine,” he answered.
He moved to take his mother’s arm but Dale beat him to it. The two paraded ahead of him toward the entrance to the dining room, leaving him to trail behind . . . like a child.
Jaw set, he began to make his recon list.
Priority one was to get Dale’s last name. Although without ID, that could be fake. He’d have to quiz him for details and see if he tripped himself up.
The list continued. Occupation. Where he lived. His immediate relatives . . .
The hostess seated them at a table with a view of the beach and the ocean beyond. He ignored it and focused on his mother.
Her gaze swept the scene before them. “Isn’t it just beautiful?” she breathed. “Dale, thank you for requesting a waterfront table.”
“Nothing’s too good for you,” he replied, sounding like some sort of sleazy seducer.
“Brian, don’t you think it’s beautiful?” she asked.
Finally, he glanced in the direction she still stared. “Mm. Yeah.”
He didn’t mention how he couldn’t see this particular stretch of coast without remembering vividly the burn of the saltwater in his eyes and the razer-like cuts of