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Chapter 6
Mac looked across the table and figured he’d gone too far. It had been a while since he’d just cooked for a woman. Hell, he couldn’t remember a time when he’d prepared a meal for a female who wasn’t his mother. Latrice MacArthur was a lady who’d made sure her boys knew how to cook. He and his brothers, Stone and Lincoln, loved to get busy in the kitchen. All three of the MacArthur boys had gone into the Navy, but Latrice ensured that once out of the service they would be able to survive on more than fast food.
If asked, Latrice told anyone who would listen that she wanted to make sure her boys were a catch for a woman. Mac scowled thinking of his mother’s routine speech that she gave about wanting daughter-in-laws since she wasn’t blessed to have a daughter.
“This was just amazing,” Sarena gushed and waved her hand over the table.
He wanted to provide her a solid meal and thought that grilled salmon and mashed potatoes with a small salad would be sufficient. Sarena was not a woman who was ashamed of eating. He was pleased with the way she’d dived into dinner with such gusto.
“Thanks. It really didn’t take that long,” he murmured, wiping his mouth off with his napkin.
“I’m ashamed to say that I’m not the world’s best cook. I can get by with the basics but nothing this extravagant.”
Her bright smile met his eyes as he gazed across the table at her. Her dimples winked at him, and he could feel the stirring between his legs. She laughed softly, and his cock grew stiff.
Their conversation had been steady for the entire dinner. He was surprised at how much he had opened up to her.
“So was it just you growing up?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, knowing the answer. The private company he used to obtain background checks was always reliable. He would just pretend as if he didn’t have a few pages’ worth of information on her already.
“No, I have an older brother.” She shook her head.
He paused. The background check hadn’t revealed any siblings. Curiosity burned in his gut. Alarms went off in the back of his mind, and he sat forward.
“Really?” He couldn’t admit to her that he had run a background check on her. He wanted her to volunteer information. So far, most of her what she had told him lined up with the background check. She was the assistant nurse manager of the emergency department. She was raised by her parents. Her father, Walter Rucker, was a high school science teacher, and her mother, Carol Rucker, was the high school secretary.
No mention of a brother.
“Harden is in the Navy. He’s a SEAL. He actually reminds me of you.” She shook her head again, her smile faltering. “It’s been a few months since I’ve spoken to him.”
Mac’s mind raced. If her brother was older than her, then he was probably around Mac’s age. If he was still in the Navy, then that would explain why he hadn’t been on the check. Harden Rucker didn’t want to be found. Anywhere. Not even to appear under anything linked to family.
“What team is he on?” he asked.
“Team three,” she murmured.
Mac knew by the look in her eyes that he needed to change the subject. He recognized that look. It was the same one that came over his mother’s face whenever either him or his siblings deployed.
“I’m sure wherever he is, he’s safe.”
A small smile returned to her lips, and she glanced back over at him.
“I heard you were a SEAL, too.” She cocked her head to the side. “I would ask if you know him, but then again, this world is much bigger than we think it is.”
“I think Janet has been talking too much,” he muttered, pushing back from the table. He didn’t want to go down memory lane of his days in the service right now. He was a proud SEAL but was scarred too badly to open up that far on their first date—
Non-date dinner.
He wasn’t sure how his nosey neighbor knew so much about him. Maybe he should have just asked Janet about Sarena or any of the other neighbors to find out information since she seemed to have a wealth of knowledge.
“Here, let me help.” Sarena scrambled from her chair and gathered some of their dishes then headed into the kitchen.
“You are a guest in my home, I’ll clear the table,” he argued, following her.
“Nonsense.” She laughed and placed the dishes on the counter and turned to him.
He lowered his into the sink then moved to stand in front of her. He settled his hands on the counter on each side of her hips, trapping her with his body.
“It’s the least I can do,” she said. “You cooked, I can clean.”
