His Plus One by Kate Aster

Chapter 12

- GRAYDON -

I wake before she does, enjoying the sight of her next to me.

So… so much for taking things slow with her.

I smile, remembering the flash of anger in her eyes when she woke me. In the time I’ve known her, I’ve seen a wide range of emotions cross her face. But that particular one—fury laced with a blazing heat—definitely never appeared at the lunch table.

I sure as hell hadn’t meant to seem condescending when we parted ways last night. I suppose it’s a fine line between being what some might call considerate and others would call patronizing. I just hadn’t wanted her to look back on anything that happens on this cruise with regret.

I still don’t.

But I was stupid to pretend she couldn’t make that decision for herself.

My eyes soak up the sight of her, so familiar to me, even before this trip together. I remember the second mission we shared, how I spotted her in the mess, flanked by a couple SEALs who were hoping to charm her into forgetting about that ring on her finger.

She never did forget that ring, though, and the significance of it. I admire the hell out of that kind of loyalty, even if that loyalty was directed toward that shitbird Stephen at the time.

He didn’t know how good he had it.

Right now, I can’t help hoping he never figures it out. If he does, I’m poised to give him a run for his money, no matter how much of it he has.

I stretch ever-so-carefully to not disturb her. This… is nice. I can’t remember the last time I woke up with a woman and hadn’t felt the need to go for a run or hit the gym with her.

My brothers were right. In my efforts to find someone I had something in common with, I had forgotten there is more to me than just the constant training that is critical to being a SEAL.

Even warriors need some down time, I suppose.

Today, I’m looking forward to some serious down time with Hailey.

Eyes still shut, a slight smile brushes across her features. She’s absolutely gorgeous to me in the morning. She barely wears a stitch of makeup at work, so her face is a familiar and almost soothing sight. There are no surprises as I look at her, just this odd kind of comfort that makes me want to wake up this way again.

We should have done this months ago, the moment I stepped into that cafeteria and saw that her ring finger was buck naked.

Did I really require my brothers to point out that Hailey and I are actually a good match?

Her eyes flicker open, interrupting my thoughts. She lets out a low moan as she stretches before saying with a wry grin, “If you tell me last night was a mistake, I’m totally putting malware on your computer.”

I laugh, loving her brand of humor.

“Even without that threat, I wouldn’t have said that. In fact, I was just wondering, why did it take us this long?”

An adorable sparkle settles into her eyes, just as she frames those same eyes with the glasses I’ve grown to love over the years. “Maybe we just needed a little ocean air.”

I kiss her long and deep, loving the way she tastes to me in the morning. “In that case, I hope you won’t take tropical vacations with anyone but me.”

“Seeing as this is the first real vacation I’ve had in ages, I think you’re fairly safe.” She cocks her head. “Although, I guess I do get ocean air in Ocean City.”

“Do you go there a lot?”

“A couple times a year. We’ve always vacationed there.”

“We? You and Stephen?” I don’t like the way he’s worked himself into this conversation.

“I guess, yeah, a couple times. But actually, I meant my dad and me. It was kind of our holiday getaway ever since I was little. Just to get us out of the house—away from the memories. Try to build some new ones. He never liked doing the traditional dinner thing after Mom died. And when you go to Ocean City in the winter, it’s kind of pretty without the crowds.”

“Maybe I can convince you to go there with me,” I say, easing myself lower onto her body, and kissing her as I do. “You can show me around.”

When my mouth takes in a nipple, I enjoy the sight of goosebumps cascading over her skin.

“Do more of that, and you could convince me to go anywhere with you,” she breathes out.

Just the words I want to hear right now.

Mouths melded again, I taste her fully with one glorious slide of my tongue along her teeth. She gives me a playful nip in response and her giggle is muffled by my kiss.

She tastes like temptation and paradise all rolled into one this morning.

When she caresses my abs with a slow and sultry glide of her hand, I swear she’s either counting them or memorizing their feel under her fingertips.

No need to memorize anything, I want to tell her. Because they’re hers for the taking anytime she pleases.

But I normally wouldn’t even think something like that this early in the game, much less say it.

There’s a sense of familiarity—a trust that’s built up between us over time—that makes me feel like we’ve been together a lot longer than one night. Because, well, we have.

God, this is so messed up.

Or maybe this is the way relationships should always be, I ponder as I feel my cock immediately respond when it brushes against the warm skin of her thighs.

My kisses turn from sweet to feral as they move from her lips to her neck to her breasts. The backs of my fingers gently caress her belly until I find the tiny nub that always brings her pleasure. I barely touch it, just a slight tease of what’s to come, before I move a finger to where her tender folds feel swollen and wet, wanting me.

She gasps as my finger enters her. I love to watch it. She’s so damn sexy when she whimpers like this. I move it in and out of her, mimicking the rhythm we established so well last night.

“Do I need to…” Her voice is shuddering as she speaks, eyes half shut, enjoying the ministrations of my hands and lips on her. “R-r-remind you that you’re out of condoms.”

“Don’t need condoms for this,” I say with a grin, opening her legs to me and tasting her, licking and stroking and savoring each tiny moan that my touch inspires.

My pace is slow and deliberate. There’s no rushing this, in my mind. I can feast on her, devour her, just like I am right now, enjoying the way her channel seizes up around my tongue and my fingers.

Last night, I had been worried about the fact that she’d only had sex with one guy before. I thought that with it, came some kind of elevated responsibility or something.

Now, I’m banking on that.

Because I don’t like the idea of being followed by anyone else.

She rakes her hands into my hair, holding my face firmly against her, as though to tell me—or warn me not to stop. But she doesn’t need to. I can feel the orgasm coming over her like a wave, and I use every stroke of my tongue, every slide of my finger, to pull her up onto the crest of it.

Then I feel the crash of it as her pelvis thrusts, and she cries out my name with abandon.

My cock is rock hard, and I ache to enter her.

I hate that I can’t.

No guy likes condoms. I’m no different. But I’ve never been tempted to take chances without them until now.

My tongue still toying with her, ever so gently because I can tell she’s sensitive now. Yet she doesn’t seem to want me to stop.

Both our bodies jump a little at the intrusive sound of her phone alarm.

“Oh, crap!” she blurts out.

I pull my face back from her. “Oh, crap, is generally something that a guy doesn’t want to hear when they’re doing this.”

She giggles. “I’m supposed to meet Freya’s mom this morning to help her with her Apple watch.” She reaches over for her phone and looks at the time. “In thirty minutes. Oh no.”

I grin. “No problem. I can do a lot in thirty minutes.”

She snorts adorably. “I have to shower. I mean—I really have to shower.” She pulls herself out of bed and disappears into the bathroom.

My cheeks puff out. Damn.

I glance at my watch, wondering if my brothers have taken over the track this morning. Then I glance down at my rock-hard cock and start thinking of all the things that usually kill a raging hard-on.

Baseball never did it for me. Not quite boring enough.

Chess.

Trigonometry.

Being forced to watch Sleepless in Seattle with my family every Mother’s Day I remember until I moved out.

Yep. That’s all it takes for my dick to deflate.

Works every time.

Rising, I head to the bathroom door. “Some of my family are doing a snorkel cruise to some sunken ship later today. Want to go?”

She pokes her head out of the bathroom door, and I try to keep my eyes on her face rather than on her naked body that I can almost see through the small crack. “Do you even need to ask? If I didn’t prove last night that I’m here for new experiences, then I think I’ll have to try harder.”

I steal a kiss. “Well, you could try a little harder by cancelling on Freya’s mom this morning and spending the morning with me,” I suggest, hoping to tempt her.

“You don’t fail family, Graydon,” she scolds, then shrugs before disappearing behind the door again. “Even if they’re someone else’s family.”

I love to hear the sentiment from her—something I was raised to believe. While I love to complain about my family—a requirement as the last born of the tribe—I would never fail them.

“I’ll reserve us a couple spots on the boat.”

“Great.” Her reply sounds garbled, as though her face is already under the water.

And all I can think is, I wish I was in there with her.

“But this surprises me,” she calls out after a moment. “I thought you wanted to see less of your family on this trip. Not more.”

“I’m appreciating a lot of things more here in Bermuda.” Like you, I can’t help adding in my head.

I slip on my running shorts and shirt. “Think I’ll go for a run if you’re gonna desert me. Mind if I come in and splash some water on my face?” I ask, still feeling the pull of weariness tug me toward the bed after only an hour or two of sleep.

“Sure.”

When I step in, and her body is only slightly obscured through the translucent glass shower door, I realize it was a mistake to come in here. Frowning, I give my face a good cold scrub, doing my best to avert my eyes from the enticement she provides just four feet away.

I step out of the tiny bathroom before I dare to talk to her again. “Want to meet up at ten in the suite?”

“Sounds good,” she shouts out to me before I hear her turn the shower off.

She takes quick showers? Another point in her favor.

I head out the door, looking forward to seeing her later.

The ship seems quiet this morning, as though most the people on it are nursing a hangover. I’d say it was a spring break crowd I’m witnessing in action, but I’m thinking cruises might always be like this.

I suddenly want to go on another one just to test that theory.

I spot Mason on the track, the only person on the deck who seems to be exercising until I join him. A few of the crew are setting up chaise lounges and I see a bartender already preparing for the nine a.m. mimosa crowd. But it’s pretty much just Mason and me as I fall into stride alongside him.

“Just you this morning?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “Think Colt and Carson slept in. Losers.”

I chuckle. “Going on the snorkel trip?”

“Nope. Got a meeting with the ships’ wedding planner at eleven about the rehearsal dinner tomorrow. Then with the other wedding planner we hired in Bermuda to talk about the ceremony and reception on the beach.” He sighs. “And we want to meet the guy from the car service that’s taking us all back to the ship. I’ve got to stress to him we need him to be on time or the ship will leave without eighty-something people on it.”

“You are cutting it close.”

He shrugs. “Yeah. Would have been a lot easier if we just got married on the ship like we originally planned.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“They put a limit on fifty people attending it.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. I thought fifty would be fine. Close family. My Team. Freya’s closest friends. I mean, I didn’t think many people would be willing to take a cruise just to see us get hitched. But our parents invited too many people…”

“And they all came,” I finish for him.

“Pretty much. Even the idea of a sunrise wedding didn’t stop them.”

I cock my head, slowing my stride as I point out, “You’ll have a hard time getting people to dance at a morning reception.”

“That should be good news for Hailey.” He snorts.

I sock him in the arm, even though a part of me likes how she’s blended so easily into my family that she’s already a target for my brother’s sense of humor. “Watch it. That’s my woman you’re insulting.” I enjoy saying it.

Mywoman. Mine.

I like the sound of it, even if it does sound a little caveman.

He laughs. “I was kidding. You know I like her.”

“Yeah. Yeah, me too,” I reply with more weight than I intended, making Mason stop in the middle of the track.

“Whoa. You’re really into this one.” Unexpectedly, he sits on one of the nearby chairs as though this conversation is about to turn serious—too serious to tackle while running. Or maybe he’s just lazy.

“No!” I deny with a little too much enthusiasm. “I mean, it’s too early to be serious.” He has no idea how early, actually.

“Nah—there’s no such thing as too early. You just know when it clicks.”

I sit in the chair across from him. “This, coming from a guy who knew his fiancée for two years before getting engaged to her.”

“Yeah, but Freya and I were dating other people then. But then, when the timing was finally in our favor, it took me just days to know it was right. Days, Bro. Not even weeks. Sound familiar at all?”

A single eyebrow rises as he asks me—and there’s a split second that I can’t help wondering if he knows it all—if he knows that I started this trip with Hailey serving as nothing more than a shield to protect me from Freya and Mom’s matchmaking efforts.

I avert my eyes, revealing nothing, and reach for the phone on my armband because if he’s not in the mood for a run, then I may as well see if Hailey might be able to meet up a little earlier than we’d planned.

He glances at my phone. “So where is Hailey, anyway?”

“Teaching your future mother-in-law the intricacies of communication on tech devices.”

His eyes widen with hope. “Oh, shit, seriously?”

“Yep. Seems to think that she can get those strange texts to stop coming our way.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll be in debt to her forever if she can.” He narrows his eyes. “Is it true she was engaged to some guy who developed a social networking app?”

I only grunt in reply.

“Do you know the name of it?”

“The app? No.” I cock my head. “Do I look like the type to stay on top of whatever’s going to be the next TikTok?”

“What’s his name then?”

“Stephen—” I pause, trying to remember since last names don’t come up too regularly at lunch. “Lillyquist. No. Lillenquist.”

He snatches my phone from my hand and types in Stephen’s name. He frowns as he taps on a website. “Stephen Lillenquist Enterprises. I bet this is him. It’s an app development company with an office in DC.” He scrolls down. “Not too shabby of a location either.”

I frown, trying not to care enough to look. “Betting the office is new. He used to just work from their couch. While she paid the rent,” I feel the need to add.

“Yeah. Freya told me a little backstory she learned when they were getting their nails done,” he clarifies, barely looking up from my phone. “Sounds like a real—oh, shit—”

“What?”

“I’ve heard of this app. Some of my Team use it. Wow—he must have sold it for a butt-ton of money. Hope she doesn’t go back to him.”

I stand again, hopefully reminding him that I’m here for a run and not idle chit-chat. “She wouldn’t go back to him. The guy’s a verified asshole.” I take back my phone.

He holds up his hands. “Sorry. I’m sure she won’t.”

But as we continue our run, all I keep wondering is, what if?

I’m not the kind of guy who ponders the what-ifs in relationships. I do enough of it on missions.

What if back-up doesn’t arrive?

What if the helo doesn’t show?

What if one of my Team goes down?

What if the HVT is more fortified than we’d planned?

For every what if, we need a contingency plan. So when it comes to relationships, I prefer to power down—just be more of a live-and-let-live kind of guy just to provide some balance to my life.

But what if she did go back to him?

Hell, even if we weren’t sleeping together, I don’t think I could stomach seeing her going back to that titwad. I don’t care how much he sold that app for or how many boats he collects in the Potomac. And I can stomach a lot.

After stopping early at just six miles so Mason can get ready for the wedding planner, I find myself taking the long way back to the suite, hoping to bump into Hailey at the café with Freya’s mom.

It’s like my eyes just need to see her.

I spot them sitting side-by-side, Freya’s mom’s perplexed eyes locked onto the phone and watch, both on the table in front of them. Hailey taps alternately on the phone’s display, then on the watch. Then back to the phone as Hailey seems to be explaining something with a patience that is learned over decades of living in a world that is not nearly as tech savvy as she is.

I feel myself smile at the sight of her. She’s—gorgeous, really. Uniquely so, in that way that guys like me generally don’t even notice, which doesn’t speak well of me.

Today, in her rush, she still has the glasses on that I’m used to seeing at the lunch table back home, hiding those magnetic eyes of hers. Her hair—the color she once self-deprecatingly joked was shit-brown when we were talking at work—is actually the color of milk chocolate—like a candy bar. Not that imported stuff from Belgium or France or wherever it comes from. Just a good old, all-American candy bar you get at the grocery checkout line last-minute.

I like the color of her hair.

She’s got curves I generally don’t get to see at work, since her customary style might be described as understated. But after this cruise, whenever she wears her trademark dark slacks and untucked blouse, I swear I’ll always be picturing the body I was trying very hard to memorize with my fingertips this morning. The same body I want to get to know even better on this cruise.

And after the cruise, for that matter.

I’m tempted to walk straight over there and steal her away from Freya’s mom. I feel the threat of time passing too quickly on this cruise. For a guy who had thought seven days would be too much, I’m now feeling like it’s not enough.

But I don’t think she’d appreciate me plopping down in the seat next to her while I’m still covered in sweat after a six-mile run.

So I head to our suite for a hot shower, hoping that she’ll be done quickly so that we can fit in more alone time together.

Because alone time with Hailey is a lot better than alone time on my own.