Kidnapped by a SEAL - Makenna Jameison Page 0,27

spent alone since you’ve been back?” he asked.

“Well—” she said, floundering.

“Zero. If I’m wrong, then the worst that happens is you get your rest while I watch things out here. And if I’m right?”

She shivered slightly, pulling the blanket more closely around herself. “I just—I just want to get on with my life, you know?”

He nodded, watching the way she seemed to be closing in on herself. Sure, Emily put up a brave front. Hell, she was brave. She had to be in her career and in surviving a month in captivity. But when push came to shove, he had a feeling that she was more frightened than she was letting on.

And he’d be damned sure to do everything in his power to make it safe for her now that she was back home.

Chapter 12

Emily took a bite of her Lo Mein noodles, watching as Ryker polished off another eggroll. She’d barely touched her food, spread out across her coffee table in the living room, and he was almost done.

“I was starving,” he said with an easy shrug. “We had training this afternoon, and then I played some ball with the guys before driving up here.” He took another bite, and she tried to ignore the way his tee-shirt clung to his muscles. He was athletic and lean, kind of like a baseball player or something. She didn’t doubt he could easily take down anyone who tried to mess with him. Or her, she considered as an afterthought.

She would be safe with him, unnecessary as his protection was.

It felt a little strange to have him here as her bodyguard for the weekend, but she had to admit she didn’t mind the company. She hadn’t been alone in…well over a month. She had neighbors here, of course, but ultimately, she’d be alone in her condo with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company. It’s not like she was up for a night out quite yet.

He took a swig of his beer and glanced over at her. “You should eat,” he insisted.

“I am eating. I guess I just need to get my appetite back. It’s kind of weird to be able to eat whatever I want after weeks of being fed the same thing. And the hospital food wasn’t spectacular.”

Ryker chuckled. “And here I thought you’d go for Mexican on your first night home.”

She laughed, recalling their easy conversation on the plane. How on earth did he remember that? “Mexican takeout isn’t good,” she insisted. “You’ve got to order right there and have it fresh. Give me a few days, and I’ll be ready to head to my favorite little hole in the wall restaurant. Their margaritas are to die for.”

“We could’ve gone there,” Ryker said. “I know you’re probably exhausted though.”

“Yeah, I really need a few nights at home just to decompress. It’s crazy to be back in my condo. There were a few nights I thought I’d never see it again. Luckily my parents have a spare key, so they were able to keep up with the bills and stuff like that while I was…gone. My mom barely wanted to let me out of her sight when she found out I was being released from the hospital today.”

“Can you blame her?” Ryker asked.

She shook her head, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he took another pull of his beer. “Nope, not after everything that’s happened,” she admitted.

He took a bite of his spicy kung pao chicken, and she just watched him for a moment. He’d kept the close beard he’d been sporting on the flight back. It was sexy, which kind of surprised her—she’d always been attracted to clean shaven guys. Ryker was the opposite of her type of man in many ways—not that that was necessarily a bad thing.

And not that they were dating.

She was used to being around assertive guys at work. The other federal agents she dealt with certainly were used to taking charge—and it wasn’t just State. The officials she helped to guard sometimes had a Secret Service entourage with them. She’d certainly butted heads more than once with the men she worked with.

Ryker practically blew those guys out of the water though with his raw masculinity. Sure, maybe they could all handle a gun and hit their mark, but he was a freaking Navy SEAL who jumped out of airplanes and stormed into terrorist camps.

Planning out specialized ops and improvising on the fly was what those guys did best. They probably trained for every