Her sister charged through the door that led to the laundry, singing a Prince song. Rachel fumbled awkwardly to a stop when she saw them both. “Oh, my God, you’re the…you know, the SEAL.”
“I am,” he said with a nod. Hailey wished she could read his expression. Right now it was agonizingly neutral.
Her sister had never been subtle. Today she was perfecting her art of embarrassingly stating the obvious.
“But you can call me Nate rather than the SEAL.”
Rachel laughed. “Kind of sounds like you should be balancing something on the end of your nose.”
Hailey felt sick to her stomach.
“I’m just kidding. Come in, come in,” invited Rachel. “Not sure why Hailey still has you outside,” she said, flashing her sister a confused look as she rushed to the door. “Welcome to The Sutherland. I’m Rachel, and of course you already know who Hailey is and how she tastes. Can I get you a mojito?”
“A what?” he asked.
Man, he had one sexy voice, Hailey thought. He may have only spoken a few words to her, but that rich baritone was hard to forget. And she’d be strangling her sister later.
“A mojito. Rum, lime, sugar and mint. I’m trying out some recipes. Nothing?” she asked as she ushered him inside and shut the door.
The SEAL shook his head. Actually, to Hailey he gained points by not knowing what the drink was. The three of them stood in the foyer, looking at one another. No one said a thing. If she’d thought her apron remark had been awkward…
“Oh, my gosh,” Rachel exclaimed, her voice overly bright. “Would you look at the time? It’s like, wow, late. Gotta run.”
And being extremely obvious in the process. Actually, Hailey wanted her sister and Nate out of here. Okay, not really.
Since Nate was staring at her, Hailey forced herself not to roll her eyes at her sister’s comment. Although Hailey had a feeling this man didn’t miss much. Rachel had always accused her of becoming like The Terminator when it came to men. She’d automatically run through a list of options and choose which would best annihilate a man’s sense of wanting to stay single.
A woman didn’t get asked for her hand in marriage without knowing a few things.
With the emo guys, it was music. The brainy type always had a sweet spot for all things techno and gadgety. Her experience didn’t run along military lines, but…
She flashed him a small smile. “If you don’t mind, I need to finish up a few things in the kitchen. You do like homemade chocolate chip cookies, right?”
He swallowed.
Got him in one.
Hailey suppressed a groan. It could have been so simple: hear what he had to say, turn down anything if he offered, then send him on his way. Male isolation back in full force. But no, she had to let her curiosity take over, and try to find out his weakness.
Back to the bookstore tomorrow. Surely there was something new on impulse control.
And anyway, the fact that he fell so easily to a little cookie manipulation wasn’t even sporting. Most men loved anything they didn’t have to cook. This man was probably used to that dried powdery stuff you added water to for a meal. Fun on a Girl Scout backyard campout in the third grade, but it’d probably lost its appeal sometime around adulthood.
“I may have some leftover lasagna, too. Actually you’d be doing me a favor by eating it. Leftovers never taste the same to me, and with all the fresh ingredients in the sauce, it would be a shame to leave it wrapped up in the refrigerator.” She may have heard him groan.
He silently followed her down the side corridor to the kitchen.
“This is some contrast from the lobby,” he said.
She nodded, noting the modern appliances and bright efficient lighting. They’d maintained the Victorian feel of the lobby and foyer that reflected The Sutherland’s origin. It still needed a bit more TLC, but she was pretty sure her mother would be pleased. “We take the breakfast part seriously here at The Sutherland B&B, so we needed a good working kitchen. Was that a yes to the lasagna?”
He nodded, and she dished out a healthy serving and graced the side of the plate with buttered garlic bread. “This was my grandmother’s recipe,” she said, and she handed him a fork and napkin embroidered with an S.
His eyes closed in appreciation at the first bite. Thank you grandma. A man with a full stomach was always easier to deal with. He attacked his food like she assumed he handled life, with focus and determination. He ate while she gathered the ingredients for the cookies. With the former men in her life she would have felt obligated to keep up some kind of running conversation. And despite the fact that her thoughts drifted to that kiss he’d ramped up the heat on more than she cared to admit, she was sticking to her no-men plan, and giving herself a break.
It didn’t matter that this guy had an amazing body as evidenced by his skintight wetsuit.
Nope, it wasn’t important that he had the most firm, kissable lips she’d ever seen.
And the fact that he had heroic tendencies to throw on top of all that other good stuff, just to ensure she went a little weak in the knees, meant nothing. Hailey was all about self-improvement, and home improvement, if she counted The Sutherland. Men didn’t factor into either one of those goals. In fact, men usually interfered with a woman’s path to emotional growth.
Hmm, that basecamp food must have been worse than she imagined because he was already done by the time she was rolling little balls of dough. Hailey saved a small amount in the bowl.
“I have a weakness for raw cookie dough. Do you?” she asked.
He nodded and once again she was struck by how handsome he was. He wore just a plain blue polo shirt matched with a pair of khaki shorts, but she enjoyed observing the strength of his bare arms. Tightly muscled, he didn’t have the bulky shape of a body builder, just pure, broad-shouldered strength. It was intimidating.
And thrilling. She was sorely tempted to run her finger along the lines of muscles roping his arms. But those kinds of thoughts led women to playing hide and seek in the sheets.
Hailey pushed the bowl of dough between them, and they both reached inside at the same time, brushing hands. His fingers caught hers, stroked the back of her hand.
“Thank you, Hailey.”
She glanced up, way up, and met his eyes. Steely and completely focused on her. The way he said her name, slowing it down in the middle with a hint of something Midwestern was sexy as hell. And then he smiled and she began to wonder if there was an expiration date on her Fate Delivery Card. Like could she kiss him again right now?
“How long have you been a Navy SEAL?” she asked, ready now to fill the air between them with rambling instead of heat.
“Six years,” he told her, the smile fading from his lips. “Why’d you kiss me, Hailey?” he asked her quietly. If he hadn’t tacked on her name at the end of his question, she could have responded in some glib, flippant way. But how he said her name drew her gaze to his.
“Because I wanted to.” And it was true. From the second Nate emerged from the water she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him. His power, confidence and the non-aggrandizing way he took care of his buddy intrigued her.
Fiancé Failure Number Two would have been all about pointing to himself. “Hey, look what I just did. I saved that dude’s life.”
Yet Nate had calmly taken care of business and when it was over, he was ready to hit the water