SEAL the Deal (19 page)

Within moments, the celebratory pop of a
champagne cork summoned a parade of tantalizing appetizers.

Lacey cracked a smile at the sight of
Mick’s awkward grip on the champagne flute. He was much more comfortable
drinking a beer, she mused, sinking her fork into a lightly encrusted crab cake
drizzled with caper sauce. His strong hands looked as though they might crush
the delicate crystal without even intending to. She couldn’t help noticing
their size and strength. As she licked the remains of the sauce from her fork, her
mind wandered to the idea of those hands gently stroking her cheeks, her neck,
her breasts, her stomach, her…

“Lacey?”

She blinked several times. “What?”

“Were you thinking about something?”

“No. I mean, my mind was just wandering. It’s
the champagne, probably.”

“You looked like you were in the middle of
a pretty interesting thought. I’ll have to bring champagne to the next Scrabble
night,” he concluded with a meaningful grin.

His smile took her breath away. The way his
perfectly white teeth were framed in such tempting lips, so soft and gentle. Such
a contrast to his hard body, she thought dreamily, taking another sip.

“Any plans for Thanksgiving?” Mick’s
controlled tone snapped her back to reality.

“Going to Chicago to my parents, like
always. I wish I could stay here.”

“Why don’t you want to go to Chicago?”

A wry smile crossed Lacey’s face. “It’s
stupid. Remember my fantasy about announcing the sale of my first waterfront
home at Thanksgiving dinner? Right now, all I have to announce is that I still
have fewer sales than anyone else in the office.”

“But you’re the newest,” Mick pointed out.

“I know. But still.” Lacey shrugged, her
thoughts drifting to Vi and whatever grand announcement her sister was plotting
to unveil this holiday. Lacey knew something was up, and there were probably
plenty of dollar signs attached to it. “How about you? Are you going away?”

“I thought I’d make Thanksgiving dinner
for Edith. You know, turkey, stuffing, the standard fare. It’s her first
holiday without Doc, you know. And I’ll be inviting any of the mids who aren’t
going home for the holiday. There are always a few who don’t have plans. No
family. Or one not worth going home to.”

“That’s nice of you.”

Mick laughed. “Why do you always sound
surprised anytime I do something nice?”

Because I’m thinking of all the naughty
things I’d like you to do to me, Lacey thought, shrugging innocently in
response.

“I had a CO do that for some of us when I
was stationed in Hawaii. It meant a lot. This is the first time I’ll actually
have the space to be able to have some people over.” He reached for his champagne
again, but then quickly set it down, opting to chug a half-glass of water. “Got
a friend and his wife coming up from Norfolk, too. We were stationed together
in Tampa for a while. So tell Bess and Maeve they’re welcome to join us if they
want. It should be a good crowd.”

Lacey burst out laughing. “I’m sorry. I’m
just picturing Maeve in a room with a bunch of young, vulnerable mids.”

Mick winced. “Oh. Yeah. Maybe that wouldn’t
be a good idea.”

“You think?” She eased back in her chair,
feeling the effects of the champagne tap dancing through her veins, and
imagined for a moment that they were here together. Really together. To be able
to reach out and take his hand, knowing that the warmth he offered through his
touch would also be hers when they were alone later. To be able to look out at
the lovely moon picturing their future together, filled with a perfect mix of comfortable
companionship and sizzling passion.

She let out a slow breath to steady
herself. Not with this man. He had no interest in settling down. He had made
that clear.

But right now, seeing the intensity in his
eyes as he looked at her, she considered that maybe something temporary with
him might be worth the heartbreak that followed.

Pushing open the door to the hotel suite,
Mick drew in a sharp breath at the sight of Lacey’s perfectly formed backside bent
over a fallen stack of cardboard boxes. God, she had perfect curves. The image
would fuel his fantasies for at least a week. He cleared his throat. Lacey
jumped at the sound.

 “Whoa, Lacey. It’s just me.”

Mick grinned when Lacey’s breath caught at
the sight of him in his dress blues for Edith’s fundraiser. He hated looking
like a recruiting poster, his chest full of medals. But he did appreciate the
effect it had on the opposite sex.

Her expression dimmed as she looked down
at herself. Dripping with sweat, she peeled her dress from her soaked chest, and
flapped the silky fabric in a futile attempt to dry herself. “You scared me. I
thought I was the only one with a key.”

“Mrs. B got me one from the front desk. She
said you might need some help.”

“Yes!” She nearly exploded at the offer. “I
desperately need help. We were supposed to have at least five more volunteers
here by now, but no one’s shown up yet.”

“They’ll show up when the food’s being
served, I’ll bet.”

“If they even try to take a bite of food
without putting in the work, I will personally murder them.”

“You know, this dress uniform comes with a
sword. Should I go back and get it?”

Lacey half-laughed and half-cried, tossing
herself backward onto the king size bed. “Oh, God. Look at me, Mick! I’m a mess.
It’s the hottest November day in recent history and I’ve been unloading boxes
for an hour.”

Mick did look at her. A sheen of perspiration
had covered her chest, making her dress cling to her. In the daylight, Mick
could make out the perfect curves of her breasts and see a slight outline of
her ripe nipples. She withered into the bed, sinking deeper into the lush down comforter
with every passing second. He ached to lie on the bed beside her, and lick every
inch of her moist body.

Shit, he thought as his body reacted. There
had to be a Navy regulation against appearing in dress blues with a raging
hard-on.

Focusing on the look of sheer misery on
Lacey’s face, he regained his composure. “You look beautiful. That dress is
gorgeous. Just a little…wet.” He choked on the last word.

“Maeve picked it out. Damn her. Leave it
to a woman who has never lifted anything heavier than a credit card to send me
here in a silk dress to do hard labor.” She rolled over and punched a pillow,
apparently unaware of her tempting position.

Mick’s knees buckled in reaction, and he
grabbed a bedpost to steady himself.

Lacey rolled onto her back again, staring
gloomily at the ceiling. “It’s not her fault though. I thought the hardest
thing I’d be doing today is lighting a few votive candles. But there’s a line
of minivans a mile-long downstairs with silent auction items I still need to
unload. I have to bring them up here until the extra tables are set up.”

“Well, I’m here now. I’ll take over any
lifting.” Averting his eyes from the inviting image of her on the bed, he
offered a hand to pull her up. “Why not change into something else so your
dress can dry out while we’re setting up?”

“I didn’t bring anything else.”

Mick scoffed. “I’m a SEAL. I’ve got at
least five sets of PT gear in my car.”

“PT gear?”

“Workout clothes. Sit tight. I’ll be right
back.”

***

Her head still spinning, Lacey punched in
the numbers to Maeve’s new security system, hoping not to wake anyone. She
pulled off her shoes first. Then she unsnapped her bra, sighing with relief. Unable
to make it up the staircase to her room, she collapsed onto the sofa.

The family room had that wintery scent of
burning logs, and Lacey imagined Maeve must have had a fire in the fireplace
tonight. The slight chill told Lacey she might need to shut the flue. But
later. Right now, all she could do was elevate her aching feet and try to wind
down.

The night had been exhilarating. Things
went so smoothly after Mick had arrived, saving the day with his PT gear and
strong arms. He had all the boxes unloaded in a quarter the time it would have
taken Lacey.

Her dress had completely dried by the time
she slipped it back on, and Maeve had been right. It was perfect—festive
enough to be fun, yet subtle enough to be taken seriously as an up-and-coming
real estate guru. She had handed out more business cards than she ever thought she
would.

But it was Mick’s presence that Lacey
found to be the most exhilarating part of the night. People had been attracted
to him like moths to a candle, and Lacey was one of them. The sight of him in
his dress uniform, shaking their hands, and accepting their thanks for his
service to their country. Then he’d subtly encourage them to make a donation to
the hospital. Laced smiled at the memory.

The guy would make a killing in real
estate sales.

She wanted him.

Desperately.

“How was it?” Bess’s drowsy voice drew
Lacey reluctantly back into the present.

“Oh, no. Did I wake you?”

“I was already awake. I fell asleep at five,
would you believe? My sleep patterns are so screwed up.” She sat down beside
her. “So?”

Lacey shook her head slowly, dreamily. “It
was amazing. I couldn’t have imagined it going more perfectly. I passed out so
many cards. I really think I’m going to get some serious business out of this.”

“So that’s the only reason you’re glowing?
The business you’ll get?”

Lacey was silent for a few moments, and
then answered honestly, “No. It was Mick. The glow is definitely from Mick.”

“Why aren’t you doing something about that
then, Lacey? He’s not going to wait around forever for you to become some real
estate giant, you know. I’d hate to see you let him slip through your fingers.”

“I know. But being with Mick would just
end up hurting me in the end.”

“Mick would never hurt you.”

“Of course he’d hurt me. He as good as
told me he would. He said he’s not looking for anything long-term. That would
break my heart if I got too involved.”

“Men always say that, Lacey. They change
their minds.”

“Men don’t change. You of all people know
that.”

Bess frowned. “Men don’t change their
nature. But they do change their minds.” She shifted her belly weight and put her
feet up on the coffee table. “Do you know something?”

“What?”

“I didn’t like Mick when I first met him.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. A build like that scares the hell out
of me. And there’s just no hiding it under the clothes. I met him when he was
taking you out to dinner that first time. He showed up in his uniform—the
brownish one, you know?”

“His khakis.”

“Yeah. And it does nothing to camouflage a
man’s muscles. All I could think was how a guy like that could do some serious
damage. I was so scared for you, I actually wrote down his license plate number.”

“Is that why you slipped your pepper spray
in my purse?”

“Yep.”

Lacey turned to her intently. “Mick would
never hurt me, you know that now, right? He’d never hurt any of us. He’d die
first.”

A smile crept over Bess’s face. “I’m
sorry, what did you say?”

“I said, he’d never hurt me.”

“You said he’d never hurt you?” Bess
repeated.

Lacey was a tad frustrated. “Yes. That’s
what I said.” She paused, the realization suddenly apparent. “Oh, I get it. He’d
never hurt me.”

Bess rested her hands stoically on her
belly and smiled. “Thanks for finally agreeing with me. Now what’s holding you
back?”

***

 “You want to grab a beer?” The way
Mick barked it into the phone made it sound more like a direct order than a
question.

Jack’s muffled voice came through on other
end of the call. “It’s past midnight and you want to go get a beer? What are
you, in your twenties again?”

“I need to unwind,” Mick grumbled. What he
needed was to erase the image of Lacey in that damn dress from his brain. Even
worse, he had to shake this unfamiliar feeling he had as he had watched her
happily handing out her business cards, making contacts, building her dream.

He should be picturing her naked right
now. Sprawled out on that big bed in the hotel suite, begging for him to take
her.

He shouldn’t be thinking of how adorable
she was with that hopeful look on her face, her career finally taking shape.

Naked and panting. That’s the way he
should want her. Right?

Instead, his best sex fantasies about her were
taking a back seat to imagining her joy at her first waterfront house sale. Or
picturing her pride as she moves up the ladder within the real estate company. Hell,
he wasn’t even planning on being around for that. He’d be long gone.