All Tommy has ever cared about is being a SEAL and the best captain for his team, but on a run along the glistening coast of San Diego an odd beauty needs his help, and Tommy finds himself locking lips with the woman who would change his life foreve...
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Blue velvets glint with suspicion behind thick, black-rimmed glasses. Peyton. How could I forget this woman? Actually, I didn't forget about her. I thought about her constantly. She was in my head all the time. Even during the past six months, I was gathering intelligence with my platoon overseas. I could barely sleep.
I usually avoid women like the plague, but there's something about her I couldn't ignore. I don't know if it's because she's fearless or bubbly. There's just something that makes me want to know her more.
Right after I had helped her, we were called. And when they call, we answer.
Done Deal.
After our operation was over, I went to San Francisco when I was on leave to meet up with some old colleagues, and now, I'm heading back. I wasn't expecting to see her. In fact, I was rude.
The only image I had of her was her slender body in a swimsuit and big eyes. The glasses and casual clothes made her almost unrecognizable, until she said swimmingly. Then I really took her in, those strong womanly calves and messy bun on top of her head. Those eyes have been following me in my sleep.
I bite into my burrito that she fought me about paying for, yet she didn't get anything for herself. "You aren't going to eat?"
The pretty little thing ignores my question. "You really didn't recognize me?"
I sit back and circle a finger around my eyes. "The glasses threw me off, and we did only meet once."
Her face scrunches, and her slender nose wiggles a little, "Guess I should've worn contacts."
"Your eyes naturally that deep of a blue?"
She narrows said eyes, "Yes. I don't like to be fake. Are yours natural?"
My lips tilt up at that. "About the only thing I got from my momma." My Louisiana southern drawl comes out, and I hadn't spoken like that in years.
She drinks some of her Mountain Dew, finishing it off. I stretch my legs out, hitting her restless ones. She blushes a little and fiddles with her empty bottle.
"I hate flying and am prone to panic attacks. I made the mistake of eating on my first flight here and well, the girl next to me did not enjoy my burger like I did." She answers with pure honesty and a purse to those classy lips.
I chuckle and lean in. "How old are you?"
She gives me a somewhat flirty look. "How old do I look?"
"College, nineteen, maybe."
She scoffs and then starts laughing. "Wow. Guess you don't remember much about me, huh? If I was nineteen, would I have given you my card to my Clinic? I'm twenty-five."
My interest climbs, not only because of her not being super young, but because of that witty tongue of hers. "Why are you traveling if you hate flying so much?"
