Heat of Passion

  She fought back disappointment. “Why?”

  “Because I’m not really interested in flings anymore.” Carson’s jaw tensed. “After the night at the club, I decided I’m not that kind of guy anymore.”

  “What kind of guy?”

  He frowned. “The kind who screws random strangers in closets.” He shook his head, looking upset. “I’ve done the casual thing all my life and I think it’s time to stop it.” Something that resembled vulnerability flashed across his eyes. “I want to go on a date with you.”

  “What? Why?”

  He shot her a cute grin and shrugged. “Because I like you. You’re…well, you’re kind of weird.”

  She bristled. “Thanks.”

  “In a good way,” he added quickly. “I mean, you’re gorgeous, sure, but there’s something else that draws me to you. Maybe it’s that good girl image you’re determined to lose. And you’re funny, and interesting, and…I don’t know, I just wouldn’t mind getting to know you.”

  She had no response. It was really sweet, everything he was saying, but she wasn’t sure she wanted sweet right now. The night she’d slept with Carson, she hadn’t been sweet. Naughty, maybe. Reckless, sure. But not sweet.

  And a date? That was the last thing she wanted right now. She’d just gotten out of a six-month relationship, one she’d poured so much time and energy into—for nothing. At the moment, dating again sounded way too tiring, and she was tired enough as it was. Sex, she could handle. But not a new romance. Not when her heart was still recovering from Steve.

  “So what do you say?” Carson asked, looking oddly nervous.

  She felt awful, but she had to tell the truth. “I don’t want to start dating anyone right now. I recently got out of a relationship. I’m swamped with work and the culinary course I’m taking. I just want…fun.”

  “You mean sex,” he said flatly.

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and gave her a rueful look. “Then I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sure you can. Just do me again.”

  A faint smile broke through the serious expression on his face, but it faded quickly. “I’m serious, Holly. I want something different this time around.”

  They’d reached an impasse. She could see it. But she could also see the glimmer of desire in his blue eyes.

  Maybe if she gave him a tiny little push…

  Licking her lips, she stepped forward and rested both palms on his impossibly broad shoulders. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”

  He was a lot taller than her and she had to tilt her head fully to look into his eyes. The desire she’d seen there had deepened the moment she’d touched him. Fueled by the obvious attraction, she leaned up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips over his.

  For a second he didn’t respond, but he evidently couldn’t hold back for long, because a moment later he parted her lips with his tongue and kissed the hell out of her. Heat rolled through her in waves, making her breasts tingle, her thighs ache. His mouth was warm and persuasive, his tongue so skilled she closed her eyes to savor each sensual stroke.

  Carson’s hands slid down her back to her ass, cupping it, stroking it, and then he moved one hand to her front, inched it down to the juncture of her thighs…and pulled it away.

  She swallowed back a groan of disappointment as he ended the incredible kiss.

  “No.” His features strained. “I meant what I said. I want more this time.”

  Holly could see that she’d lost the battle. Fortunately, the war was still up for grabs.

  Sighing, she asked, “Do you have a cell phone?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Can I see it?”

  Shooting her a quizzical look, he pulled a slender phone from his back pocket and handed it to her. Without giving him time to object, she quickly programmed in her phone number and handed him back the cell.

  “My number’s in there now,” she said with a grin. “So if you change your mind, you know how to reach me.”

  Carson looked pained. “You really want this fling, don’t you?”

  “You bet I do. So don’t keep me waiting long, okay, Carson?”

  Still grinning, she turned and walked away.

  Chapter Three

  “Can you tell me why the fuck we’re playing mini-golf?” Will asked as he awkwardly gripped his putter with two hands. Will, the SEAL who could jump off a helicopter with his eyes closed, stared at the hole in bewilderment, as if unable to comprehend why a fake mountain blocked his path.

  “We’re playing mini-golf because it’s fun. And since you suck at pool, I figured there might be a shot of some real competition here,” Carson answered with a sigh. “Jesus, Lieutenant, just putt the fucking ball up that slope and gravity will bring it down to the other side.”

  Will looked up with a glare he normally reserved for terrorists. “I know what to do, asshole. I’m just mentally preparing.”

  Oh brother. Carson crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Impatiently. They were only on the fourth hole of this shitty nine-hole course and they’d been here for an hour already, all because Will Charleston had to mentally prepare every freaking time he putted.

  Two minutes later, Will tapped the ball. It rolled up the little brown mountain slope, lost momentum, and rolled right back to his feet.

  “Shit!” the Lieutenant exclaimed. “I swear, this course is defective.”

  Carson couldn’t help it. He laughed. Really hard. And when his stomach started to hurt, he bent over and wheezed for a couple of seconds. After he’d recovered, he glanced up to see Will hopping over the three-foot mountain with the ball in his hand.

  Carson walked around to the side just as Will was setting the ball down a foot from the hole.

  “Hey, no cheating,” Carson objected, wiping tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes.

  “This isn’t cheating. It’s effective problem solving. Got a problem with that, Ensign?”

  Carson rolled his eyes. Will always resorted to calling Carson by his lower rank when he was feeling cranky. Ah well. He wasn’t one to judge—God knows Carson was feeling pretty cranky himself.

  Fine, not cranky. More like ridiculously sexually frustrated.

  He still felt like kicking himself for not taking Holly up on her offer Friday night. For passing up on what was guaranteed to be more of the best sex of his life. But he’d had no choice. He’d meant what he told her—he wasn’t interested in one-night stands or flings anymore. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for a serious relationship either, but he was willing to give it a shot.

  And maybe he was crazy, but he wanted to try it with Holly. He barely knew her, but what he did know, he totally liked. She was gorgeous. Funny. A little quirky, but that only gave her character. Even her confession that she was a good girl hadn’t turned him off. Because, really, would a good girl have propositioned a stranger in a nightclub? Obviously Holly had a dark, wild side that was just begging to be explored…

  Of course, if he weren’t such an idiot, he could be the one exploring it with her right now.

  “Finally!”

  Will’s exclamation jerked him back to the present. Forcing all thoughts of Holly out of his mind—he couldn’t very well play mini-golf while plagued with a monster boner—he turned his attention to Will, who’d successfully putted his ball into the hole and was marking down his score on one of the little scorecards the kid at the main booth had given them.

  It was a little weird, hanging out with just Will. Carson had never really spent much time alone with the quiet SEAL, but since Garrett was on his honeymoon, and the other guys had left for the desert this morning on a training op, Will had been the only one around.

  “Now who’s slacking?” came Will’s voice.

  Carson glanced down at the layout of the next hole and putted the ball into the mouth of a creepy-looking clown. It popped out the other side, an inch from the cup.

 
Will went next, and the clown spat the ball back out, a mechanical voice shrieking, “Try again, loser!”

  And that was the end of the game. Very calmly, Will lifted his putter and whipped it at the clown’s smiling red mouth. “Never ask me to do this again,” Will growled as he walked off the green.

  With a sigh, Carson retrieved the putter Will had thrown and headed for the booth. After handing the putters and balls back to the kid in charge, he walked toward the chain-link fence at the entrance of the mini-putt course, where the Lieutenant was lighting up a cigarette.

  “Aw shit, you said you quit,” Carson said, frowning with disapproval.

  A pair of brown-bordering-on-black eyes glared at him. “I don’t need another lecture about my bad habits.” Will took a deep, defiant drag of his smoke.

  “Another lecture? Who else was giving you grief about it?”

  “A friend.”

  The two men left the course and strode in the direction of the gravel parking lot out front. It was just past three, and the sun was still high in the sky, a bright yellow canopy that warmed the air and made Carson squint as they walked to his Range Rover. Next to him, Will pulled out a pair of sunglasses from the front pocket of his golf shirt and slid them on. The mirrored shades made him look like the Terminator, or maybe a bad-ass cop. Carson always felt like a pretty boy next to the Lieutenant. He and Will both stood at six-three, but Carson’s dirty-blond hair and blue eyes had never seemed as macho as Will’s dark crew cut and that I’m-gonna-kick-your-ass black-eyed gaze he had going.

  “A friend, huh,” Carson mused, focusing on Will’s last remark. “Would that friend be Melanie?”

  “Mackenzie,” Will corrected, setting his square jaw. His eyes were covered, but his ragged sigh was clear confirmation that he still hadn’t managed to score with the mysterious woman he’d been hung up on for years. Carson didn’t know much about the situation, but some of the cryptic comments Will had made over the years led Carson to believe he was disgustingly in love with this Mackenzie.

  “So you two went to high school together, in that zero-population town you grew up in?” Carson asked, trying to pry out a few more details.

  “Hunter Ridge. It’s a few hours east of San Diego, and it has a population of five thousand, asshole.”

  “Gee, five thousand people. That’s like the seating of a Nickelback concert.” He paused. “Actually, I bet those concerts sell twice that, if not more.”

  He jammed his finger on the electronic keypad and unlocked the Rover, then opened the driver’s side door. Will hopped in the passenger side, immediately rolling down the window. The car had air conditioning, but Will didn’t seem to care.

  “So anyway, that’s the girl, right? The high-school sweetheart?” Carson prompted.

  He wasn’t sure why he was pushing for details, but lately he’d come to realize he knew next to nothing about the other SEAL. He and Will had been part of Team Fourteen for four years now, and while Carson knew all the other guys better than his own family, Will remained a mystery. Garrett said some dudes were just like that, secretive to the death, but it didn’t seem right to Carson. Maybe it made him a pansy, this need to get to know another guy, but oh well.

  “Best friend.” Will’s reply came out tense and strained, as if he’d rather pour hot wax over his body than say the words.

  “Okay, best friend.” Carson started the car and reversed out of the parking spot. “So this best friend, what does she do, you know, for a living?”

  “She makes jewelry.”

  “Is she any good?”

  To Carson’s extreme astonishment, Will let out a long, genuine laugh. “Actually, no. Her jewelry sucks. She knows it, everyone in town knows it, but people humor her because she won’t accept money for—” He halted instantly.

  Curiosity trickled through him. “She won’t accept money for what? Oh man, is she a hooker?”

  “She’s not a fucking hooker,” Will shot back, his features twisting with fury. “Jesus.”

  “Then what does she do, aside from making bad jewelry?”

  Silence stretched between them and Carson’s curiosity transformed into a spark of concern. Maybe this was why Will was so serious all the time. Maybe he was hung up on some nut job.

  “She’s a psychic,” Will finally admitted, his voice rough. He glanced over at Carson as if gauging his reaction.

  Having never been a big believer of paranormal junk like psychics, Carson had to swallow back his incredulity. This woman was obviously important to Will, and he didn’t want to step on any toes. So instead he kept his eyes on the road and said, “Is she the real thing?”

  “Unfortunately. So what’s the deal with you and the waitress from the wedding?” And that was it. Subject dropped. Will was very good at that, changing topics before you could blink.

  Carson turned on Harbor and onto the Coronado Bay Bridge, driving in the direction of Will’s house. Will was the only member of the team who lived near the base. All the other guys lived in San Diego. Well, except for Garrett, who’d been spending every night at Shelby’s Coronado apartment ever since the two had fallen madly in love.

  “There’s no deal,” Carson said as he came to a halt in front of a stop sign.

  Will grinned. “She refused to go home with you, huh?”

  He bristled. “Actually, I refused to go home with her.”

  “Why’d you do that?”

  “Because…” Before he could stop it, the truth rolled right out of his mouth. “Because I want to date her and she just wants a fling.”

  Will laughed. Jeez, two laughs in the span of ten minutes. Maybe he was drunk. “Since when do you date?”

  “Since now.”

  The other man nodded wisely. “Ah, so you realized it’s time to grow up.”

  “Something like that.”

  “And you like this girl?”

  “From what I know so far, yeah,” he admitted.

  Will gave a careless shrug. “Then have sex with her.”

  “Did you not just hear a word I said?” Carson said in frustration.

  “Sure I did. But the way I see it, it’s your in. Call her up, tell her you’re up for a fling, and then slowly work on her to try the dating thing.”

  “She was pretty determined to do the fling thing, man.”

  “Then change her mind. You’re a SEAL, she’s a cute little waif. How hard could it be?”

  Carson paused. Will did have a point. He wanted Holly, and he wasn’t going to get her standing around playing mini-golf. Maybe he should call her. Agree to sleep together for a while, and then turn up the seductive charm and convince her to give him a serious shot...

  “Definitely an idea worth considering,” he finally admitted as he pulled up in front of Will’s small, non-descript bungalow. He put the car in park, turned to the other man and, very sarcastically, said, “Well, I’d like to say thanks for a good game of golf, but I can’t. Why? Because you hurled your putter at a clown and threw a hissy fit.”

  “I didn’t throw a hissy fit. I was only displaying my dislike for that sad excuse of a course. Next time you want to play mini-golf, call a third-grader. I only play adult golf.”

  “Adult golf? So you play naked while someone films you? Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

  Will gave him the finger and got out of the car.

  Holly didn’t get home from the Grier wedding until past midnight, after spending the entire night serving drinks and fighting off the advances of the very drunk uncle of the bride. Her temples were throbbing as she got out of her bright yellow VW Beetle and headed up the flower-lined path leading to her building.

  Shoving her hand in her black leather purse, she fiddled around for her keys, found them and stepped toward the lobby door.

  “You’re home late,” a male voice drawled.

  She jumped, startled, searching the darkness. She finally spotted him leaning against one of the pillars near the entrance.

  “What on earth are you doing here?
” she asked, gaping.

  Carson shot her a charming grin. “You’re not in the least bit happy to see me?”

  Happy? Try overjoyed. Just the sight of him, in faded blue jeans that hugged his muscular legs and a blue sweatshirt the same color as his eyes, made her pulse race. She’d been thinking about him ever since the wedding, hoping he’d call. She couldn’t even count how many times she’d stared at the phone last night, willing for it to ring, but it hadn’t, and she’d forced herself to accept that Carson had meant what he said. He wasn’t interested in having sex with her again.

  But obviously he’d changed his mind.

  “How did you know where I live?”

  He shrugged. “Called the catering company and told the woman who answered that I’d found your cell phone and wanted to return it.”

  “And she gave you my address? What if you were a serial killer?”

  There was a twinkle in those ocean blue eyes. “Do you really want to stand out here and talk about your company’s irresponsible receptionist, or are you going to invite me up?”

  Her pulse took off in a gallop. “You want to come up? I thought you didn’t do this kind of thing anymore.”

  “I had a change of heart.” He slanted his head. “Unless the offer’s off the table, of course…”

  Holly grinned. “Oh, the offer is definitely still on the table.”

  “Good.” He grinned back. “So why are we still out here?”

  With a laugh, she unlocked the door to the lobby and led Carson to the elevator. Her apartment was on the second floor, but the elevator ride seemed to take hours. Carson edged close to her in the car, sliding his hand down to fondle her ass while he bent his head and lightly nibbled her earlobe. She bit back a moan, enjoying the way he squeezed her cheeks and then dragged his finger up and down her crease. God, she couldn’t wait to get naked with this man.

  Finally the elevator doors opened. Impatiently, she pushed forward and practically sprinted to her door, unlocking it with shaky fingers.

  Carson stood behind her as she fumbled with the handle, chuckling as she struggled, then giving her ass a quick spank when she finally got the door open. The apartment was dark when they walked in, and Holly made no move to turn on the lights. Instead, she grabbed his hand and started to lead him toward the hallway. “Bedroom,” she choked out.