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“Thank you,” Austin replied. “I’ll have coffee and juice with the egg white omelet.” Out of my peripheral vision, I saw him hand the menu back to her.
“And you, Mr. Rowan?”
“I’ll have the Greek yogurt bowl with berries. And coffee, please.”
“Very well, gentlemen. I’ll return shortly.”
Austin sat across from me with his hands clasped in front of his mouth, elbows on the armrests. His eyes roamed my hair and face, making me oddly uncomfortable.
Again, I didn’t get uncomfortable. He just knew how to make me squirm.
“What?” I asked quietly.
He motioned toward my head. “What did you do to your hair?”
I couldn’t tell if he was throwing a dig at me, or if he was being serious. Instinctively, I ran a hand through it. “What do you mean?”
He lifted his steepled index fingers from where they rested against his lips to point at it. “It looks different. More silver than gray. And the cut is different.”
“You don’t like it? My stylist said it made me look younger.” I was a little self-conscious about my appearance around him. He was young at thirty-six, and here I was at fifty-eight, trying to impress him.
Austin shook his head. “You don’t have to do all that not to look old, Greer. You’re in shape, and it’s obvious you take care of yourself.”
My heart fluttered with a glimmer of hope he wouldn’t completely push me away.
“Thank you. I try.” His little compliment made my cheeks heat.
He continued to stare at me as I stared back. It was strangely intimate and weird at the same time. While I loved his eyes on me, we had eight hours to become very comfortable with each other. Even though work had placed us back in the same space many times, we’d never really talked about anything important. Like this growing tension between us.
“I guess we should get to know each other again if we’re going to pull this off.”
Sandra placed our breakfast at the table I preferred to work at when I traveled.
“Breakfast is served,” I said, motioning to the area behind him.
We unbuckled and stood up, closer than we’d been since he’d been in my office. The smell of his cologne and body wash tried to make me hard, but I thought about unpleasant things to keep it away. And, as if to torture me further, the plane hit a pocket of turbulence, causing him to reach out for me.
I looked up into his eyes as he held onto my biceps to steady me. There were so many things I wanted to say and do, but I only smiled.
“Thank you,” I said, slipping from his grasp. I headed for the table as we hit another pocket of turbulence. If we’d chosen to eat in our seats, we’d both be wearing our coffee.
I slid into my side while Austin did the same. Picking up my napkin, I unfolded it and placed it on my lap. Austin mirrored my movement before taking a sip of his coffee.
His eyes flicked up to me. “When did you start training?”
I smiled. Of course, that would be the question he asked. Fitness was important to him. “A little over ten years ago.”
He nodded as he took a bite of his food. “What made you choose triathlons?”
It kept me sane while you were a fucking SEAL, living your life in harm’s way.
“I’ve always been a runner. And I was on the swim team in college. So it made sense to do both.”
“They had those way back then?” he deadpanned.
My gaze cut to his. “Your brother and I attended college in the mid-80s. We’re not that old. And by that time, triathlons had been around for about ten years.”
He continued to eat, enjoying his little digs at me. I’d allow it. “Seems like an awful lot of training for someone like you.”
