Page 18 of Loving a Warrior

“Sure.”

“My parents own a boating charter service there, so I grew up swimming and diving, both free and scuba.”

It was Matt’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Shit. No wonder you’re part fish.”

“Yeah.” Shane spun his coaster around and around with his finger. “There’s a big golf resort there on the island, and when I was a kid I’d get paid to dive the water hazards and retrieve golf balls. On a good day I could make fifty bucks. It was great.”

Their food arrived, and the conversation lagged a bit as they applied themselves to it.

“These are really good,” Matt finally mumbled around a mouthful of blackened tilapia and tangy mango salsa. He tipped back another swallow of cold soda, trying not to stare as Shane licked his lips clean of the salsa juice before wiping them on a napkin.

“This is one of my favorite places.” Shane sprawled out in his chair and linked his fingers behind his neck with a groan of contentment. “I come here a lot.”

Matt leaned back, too, letting himself relax in increments. It’d been a long time since he’d had dinner with someone and he was finding Shane surprisingly easy to talk to. “Do you, uh, live around here?”

Shane tilted his head to look at the sky. “Alexis—my sister—and I own a house not too far from here, actually, a legacy from our maternal grandmother. It’s kind of run-down.” He shrugged. “Lex wants to sell it.”

“And you don’t?” Matt prompted when Shane fell silent.

“I don’t, but it needs a lot of work,” Shane said at last. “And obviously I’m not gonna be around much, you know? Even if I don’t make the teams, my rating—”

“What’s your rating?”

“Damage Controlman. I was ARFF in the Corps.”

Matt pursed his lips in a silent whistle. “Firefighting, huh?” Air rescue and firefighting was a highly specialized Marine Corps rating, and DC was its closest Navy counterpart.

“If I wash out of BUD/S, I’ll finish out my enlistment on a ship and then go into the civilian firefighting sector. Either way, I won’t be around much. Keeping the house is stupid.”

“Is it paid off?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, she should be happy for a free place to live. I know I would be.”

“Right? But she’s raising a kid and doesn’t wanna deal with some old house. I get that her priorities are different than mine.” Shane sighed. “Do you have any siblings?”

“Nope. It’s just me.”

“Well, having a sister is both a blessing and a curse. Ask me on different days which one it is.”

“I’m sure she’d say the same about you.”

Shane chuckled, although his eyes looked rather sad. “Oh, there’s no doubt about that, Soup. I’ve got to be the bane of her existence these days.” He pushed back his chair. “Ready to get out of here?”

They each tossed several bills on the table before ambling to the truck, hands crammed in their pockets. Neither of them spoke on the way back to the base, and Matt was hyper aware of Shane’s knee a tantalizing few inches from his hand as he shifted gears.

He opened and closed his fingers restlessly on the gearshift knob, imagining being able to reach over and slide his palm up the length of that muscular thigh, wondering what it’d be like to feel Shane come apart under his hands and mouth…

Jesus!

The fantasy of warm denim under his fingertips was so real, so vivid, for a split second Matt thought he’d actually touched Shane. He whipped into a parking space in front of the barracks and leapt out of the truck.

“Thanks for the ride, and the company,” Shane called after him, voice sleepy and relaxed. The sound of it stroked along Matt’s nipples like a rough tongue.

“You’re welcome,” he forced out. “I hope everything’s okay with your sister.”

He loped away, trying to stop thinking about Shane on his knees, on his back…