Read Saved by the SEAL for Free Online Page B

I’m at a loss for words. I replay the nicest thing a guy has ever said to me repeatedly as my breathing evens out once more. When I feel my eyelids growing heavy, I turn on my side and whisper down to him.
    “Good night, Grisham.”
    His response is immediate. “Good night, Grits.”
      
    When my eyes open again, the sun is streaming in through my apartment window. I stretch, and then sit up. The first thing I do is search for Grisham on the floor. The pillows are neatly stacked by my nightstand and my blankets are folded just as adeptly.
    I climb out of bed and scurry to the bathroom to check my hair and brush my teeth. When I emerge, I venture down the hallway, through the kitchen, and into the living room.
    Grisham is sitting on the couch, a mug of coffee in his hands. His profile is to me; I expect the TV to be on, but it’s not. He’s sitting in silence. Thinking?
    “Grisham?” My voice escapes in a tentative squeak.
    He turns toward me, aiming a beautiful smile my way. “Good morning, Grits.”
    I put my hands on my hips. “I’m going to make you some. Then you won’t make fun anymore.”
    “Hey,” he protests, “I’m not making fun. But the nickname fits, and I’m not dropping it unless you ask me to.”
    He waits, but I turn for the kitchen, hiding my smirk. I don’t want him to ditch my new nickname, and he knows it.
    He follows me. “I made coffee.”
    Sniffing the delicious aroma, I whirl on him. “Thanks. So, you didn’t wake me up last night.”
    His eyes widen. “Damn. I knew you were sleeping heavily, but I didn’t think you’d completely forget. I woke you up every two hours, Greta. Just like I said I would.”
    Surprise pulls my expression into confusion. “You did? I had no idea.” Then I’m filled with apprehension. “Did I say or do anything stupid?”
    He smiles, coming closer. When he’s standing directly in front of me so that I have to look up at him, he taps my nose with his index finger. “You were completely adorable in sleep. Just like I’d expect you to be.”
    My skin instantly heats at his nearness. My breathing comes faster, and I’m reminded of how out of control I was last night. It isn’t just his looks that do this to me. It isn’t just the fact that I know exactly what sort of sculpted masterpiece is hiding beneath his clothes. All of that turns me on, sure, but it’s everything that encompasses Grisham. It’s his tenderness juxtaposed with his rough and manly job. It’s his beauty, which directly opposes all of his scars. It’s his consideration, taking care of me when it isn’t his job to do so.
    Blushing scarlet, I turn around and begin pulling out pots and pans. “Well, thank you for doing that, Grisham. You must be exhausted this morning. What time did you get up?”
    He shrugs. “I’m always up at five. Old habits die hard.”
    “I haven’t seen five o’clock in so long I can’t remember what the day looks like at that hour. What do you do that early?”
    “I work out, usually. And make coffee. And then I go to work. How do you like your coffee?”
    He meanders over to the full, steaming pot and I watch the view from behind. His low-slung jeans are hanging exactly right on the tight cut of his hips, and his plain white T-shirt hugs his sinewy biceps deliciously.
    I need a fan.
    He turns around and quirks an eyebrow at me, totally catching my stare-fest.
    He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “Coffee?”
    “Oh. Um…give me about an inch of half-and-half at the bottom. And a teaspoon of sugar.”
    He makes a face. “That’s sweet.”
    I shrug. “I like sweet.”
    He loses all trace of a smile, and his expression grows so intense, so scrutinizing that I want to take a step backward. I don’t, though. I just stare right back.
    “Grits…you know that I’m not sweet, right? I’m…damaged. In more ways than the obvious one.”
    I’m struck silent by his comment. We don’t break eye contact as he waits for my response, and I finally