SEAL's Honor Page 10

  In fact, she thought when Blue finally prowled out of her room and stood there in her doorway—every inch of him a predator, made of smooth muscle, obvious skill, and that lethal confidence stamped deep into him—she would be very much surprised if a man like Blue Hendricks dated at all.

  “Something funny?” he asked, just as curt and growly as ever, which only made it worse.

  Everly was obviously a bit punchy, because she told him. “I was trying to imagine you on a date.”

  Eight

  Well, she thought, as Blue stared at her in what looked like a kind of amazement, except a lot less friendly, that was stupid.

  “A date.” He said it as if he’d never heard of something so repellent. “Why?”

  Everly waved a hand and told herself she felt effortless. “It isn’t the why that’s interesting. It’s more, you know, imagining you storming into some café for a coffee date like you were thundering into battle and ordering . . . I don’t know. Some nails to chew on?”

  “Why can’t I have coffee like a normal person?”

  “Can you? Or does that require mission parameters and a private jet?”

  She couldn’t read the look he threw at her, but she could read herself perfectly well. She was flirting with him.

  She needed him to save her life and she was flirting with him.

  What was wrong with her?

  Blue roamed from her bedroom doorway, across the living room, and into the open-plan kitchen, and she found herself trailing after him. Very much as if this were his apartment instead of hers. But then, she couldn’t say the place really felt like hers anymore. She’d spent nearly a month here after that night, and she wasn’t sure she’d relaxed that entire time. Not once.

  Not until tonight.

  Well.

  She wouldn’t call herself relaxed, exactly. But the sun was going down outside and she wasn’t sitting with her back to the wall, wide-eyed and panicked. She wasn’t listening for any and every noise that might be the men who’d hurt Rebecca, back to finish the job.

  It was him, of course. Blue. The simple fact that he’d checked every room in the apartment to make sure that it was safe to be here. And now he was towering over the small galley kitchen as he rummaged through her refrigerator, as if everything were perfectly normal. Everly pressed the heel of her hand to the center of her chest and recalled how, only moments before, she’d stood outside the door in her hallway and felt as if something were crushing her.

  It was gone now. He’d made her feel safe. Here, where she’d thought she might never feel safe again.

  “Should we order some food?” she asked. “There’s a great pizza place down the street.”

  Blue straightened, then looked at her over the open refrigerator door. “Unless you’re some kind of culinary genius who can whip up something delicious from a couple moldy old apples, three cheese sticks, and a six-pack of Diet Coke, I don’t think we really have another choice.”

  “How dare you? That’s what I call a feast.”

  He muttered something. Then he swung the refrigerator door shut, and it was instantly clear that Everly had let herself drift too far into the kitchen and was now standing entirely too close to him. That was the problem with this place, and galley kitchens in general. There was never any real space, just a long, narrow strip of very little floor and too many appliances, tucked on one end of the living room.

  And there was even less space in her kitchen now than there usually was.

  It took her longer than it should have to notice that the way Blue was looking down at her was . . . not exactly friendly. Again. Which didn’t make sense, because she was no longer babbling inanely about dates.

  Another thing that made no sense was that she found it fascinating the way his dark brows pulled together. The way he seemed somehow less icily contained and controlled than he had when they’d walked in here.

  It made her imagine things she shouldn’t.

  “You came all the way to find me in Alaska, so I assume you actually want to survive,” he was saying, and he didn’t sound clipped or commanding. He sounded ticked off. “But survival isn’t just finding some bad guys and handling them. That’s my job, and I’ll do it. You need to take care of yourself. It doesn’t look to me like you have the slightest idea how to do that.”

  That stung, and she frowned up at him, crossing her arms in front of her in a way she knew, even as she did it, was much too defensive. She did it anyway, because her hands couldn’t be trusted.

  Besides, she felt pretty freaking defensive. “I’m alive, aren’t I?”

  Everly really didn’t like the way he looked at her then, as if that were a subject for debate.

  “You’re too skinny,” he said flatly. “It looks like you barricaded yourself in this apartment and didn’t come out for weeks. Is that about right?”

  “I have a job. So, yes, I went out. When I had to.” She pointed at him, because she wanted to do something like punch him in his chest, but she wasn’t that foolish. She knew she’d hurt her hand if she tried. “And don’t talk about my body. It’s none of your business.”

  He let out that laugh that wasn’t remotely amused. “As the bodyguard you just hired to—guess what—guard that body? Yeah, it is. And there’s no point wasting my time saving your life if you snap in half at the first hint of a breeze.”

  “I didn’t snap in half while driving across the Yukon to find you.”

  She hurled that at him like the punch she didn’t dare throw. And the good news was that the paralyzing fear hadn’t returned. The bad news was that she was filled with righteous indignation instead, and it made her feel reckless. Invincible. Not a smart way to act around a man like this, she was pretty sure. He could snap her in half with his pinkie finger. But she kept right on, because she didn’t think he would.

  No matter what she did.

  “I think I’ll probably be fine eating a few cheese sticks and chugging some Diet Coke to stay awake while I wait to see if I live through the summer. But thank you for your concern.”

  “I’m not talking about your weight, Everly. I’m talking about your health. If you want to look like a scared stick figure every other day of your life, knock yourself out. Not my circus, not my monkeys. But this?” He did something with his chin that seemed to encompass her, the apartment, and everything she’d ever told him. In one economical gesture that she felt like a harsh conviction. “This is all my business until your problem is solved. What if we have to run and you can’t because you haven’t eaten a goddamn thing in three days?”

  “First of all, I ate breakfast in your presence this morning. Second, I knew I was leaving for a week and I cleared out my refrigerator.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She hated that he knew she was lying. As if he’d watched her stand right where he was and decide she couldn’t be bothered—and was entirely too anxious—to go get any new food. That a few cheese sticks and cans of whatever would do. “Third, when I’m stressed, I’m not hungry.”

  “I don’t really care if you’re hungry. I care that you can handle yourself in any given situation, and I hate to break it to you, but that requires fuel. And adequate sleep. And not doing insane, suicidal things like driving over Hard-Ass Pass or trying to sustain yourself on crap and chemicals.”

  There was no reason why this should bother her so much. She kept telling herself that, but it didn’t make her any less bothered. “I thought the point of you being here was that you’d handle any situation that might come up.”

  “Sure. In a perfect world. But I have to tell you, sweetheart, I’ve been on a lot of missions in my time, and not one of them has ever been perfect. Not one.”

  Everly wanted to hurl things at him then, mean and vicious things if she could think of any, but she bit her tongue. Because she was making this personal, and it wasn’t. It might
be about her actual person, but that didn’t make it personal. Not on his end, anyway. He was here to protect her, not compliment her or be polite or worry about hurting her feelings.

  This wasn’t some kind of weird, extended extreme date.

  “If you don’t want to order a pizza, Blue, you could have just said so.” Everly was proud of her voice, calm and cool. Or close enough. “I’m sure we can find a place to deliver a bucket of Paleo horror, with a kale and coconut-oil smoothie to wash it all down.”

  “I like pizza. I particularly like cheeseburgers and greasy fries, now that you mention it. But I limit how much garbage I eat, because I need my body to function at peak performance levels.”

  “You have my congratulations.” Everly didn’t buckle when he scowled. “Listen, I’ll make an effort to eat, because you make a good point about maybe needing to run. But I’ll eat what I want.”

  “This isn’t a fight. I don’t care what you eat.” There was something different in his gaze then. She could feel it. Everywhere. On some level she knew that she should be alarmed, but she couldn’t bring herself to do anything about it. She didn’t step back. She didn’t think she moved forward, either, and yet somehow, he seemed closer.

  “You just told me I was too skinny,” she said, and she knew it was a mistake. It was the way she’d said it. Not exactly petulant, but not the way a grown woman talked to a person she’d hired to perform a very specific and dangerous task.

  On cue, she felt herself flush, because that was all she did around him, apparently.

  “Let’s be clear about what’s happening here,” Blue said then, all business, which made her feel even more embarrassed and overbright. “This isn’t playtime. This isn’t a game. If you think otherwise, there’s no reason for me to be here.”

  “We’re standing in the apartment where I saw two men possibly murder my roommate. I’ve never thought this was a game.”

  “This is either life-and-death or it’s not. Which is it?”

  “My life. My death. Not yours.”

  “I’m glad you’re confident about that. I have no intention of dying, but it doesn’t always work out that way. So let me say this one more time. I’ll take care of you as best I can. But you have to take care of yourself, too.” She started to speak, but he plowed right over her. “I get it. Something horrible happened, and you hunkered down here, just trying to survive. You’ve been gone for a week, so your refrigerator is empty. I’ll buy that. But everything in this apartment tells me the same story.”

  “Is it the story of a very scared person with bad guys after her?” She straightened her shoulders when he raised a brow at her tone. “I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of a couple of cheese sticks.”

  “It’s not just the cheese sticks. It’s the shoes.”

  They both looked down.

  “You don’t like my shoes?” Everly was baffled.

  “This is what I have to ask myself,” Blue said, almost conversationally. And Everly might not have been able to tell if he was breathing, but she was pretty clear on the fact that despite his easy tone, there was nothing but that dark tension flaring between them. “Who gets in a car, knowing they have a long, thankless drive in front of them, through parts of Canada that are never really too far from winter no matter what time of year it is, and thinks, Hey, I know. I’ll wear the most impractical shoes I can find?”

  Everly shook her head in confusion. “They’re my favorite shoes. And I was in the car, not trekking my way across the Rocky Mountains.”

  “They’re the only shoes you brought.”

  “They’re completely practical. The perfect travel accessory, in fact.”

  “They fold.”

  “That’s obviously why they’re practical.”

  “And you wonder why I think you’re not taking this seriously.”

  Everly didn’t snap, exactly. But something inside her seemed to crumble. As if she’d propped everything up on slender, fragile little matchsticks, and they’d all given way at the same time, in a big rush and tumble.

  For a moment she thought she might topple over and explode into dust herself, but she didn’t. Of course she didn’t.

  She didn’t know what to do. She apparently never knew what to do around this man. So instead of standing there and letting him read that all over her face, she turned around and headed for her bedroom. Because the other option was saying something else she’d regret.

  But she couldn’t help throwing a look over her shoulder when she got to her doorway.

  He’d followed her out of the kitchen, but he’d stopped there at the other end of the living room. Which was good, because if he’d still been too close, she might have taken one of the fists she hadn’t known she’d made at her side and tried to whack him with it. Suicidal, obviously, but all those matchsticks had snapped, and she had nothing left but rubble.

  Some part of her just wanted to make it worse. To see if it was possible that things could actually get any worse than they already were.

  “What’s the matter with you?” She fought to sound if not exactly calm, not crazy and over-the-top, either. “You don’t have to be nice to me, I guess. But would it really kill you to be polite?”

  “This is polite.”

  “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?”

  She threw it at him, only distantly aware that she was loud. Too loud. That this was probably what snapping felt like. But for once, she didn’t care.

  “Oh, I know,” she said, when he began to say something. “Nothing I could possibly have gone through in the past month compares to anything you’ve been through out there, saving the world.”

  She thought he looked stiffer and more grim than he had a moment before. “You’re right. It doesn’t.”

  “I’m sure that’s true. But you were trained for what you did. Bad things didn’t just show up in the middle of the night, waking you from a sound sleep and changing your life forever. I was never trained. I have no tools to use in a situation like this.” She made herself pull in a breath, and hated that she was now aware of her breathing, or lack of it. It made her temper kick up harder. “I don’t know if you get scared for your life or not, but I did. I am. I’m afraid, Blue. Do you understand that?”

  The air seemed to pull tight between them, thick and sharp at once.

  His dark eyes blazed. “More than you will ever know.”

  Something about that scratched at her in ways she really didn’t like. Everly felt ashamed of herself, and she liked that even less.

  “I’m sorry,” she made herself say, though she didn’t know if that was true. She didn’t know anything anymore. “I’m tired. I’m overemotional. I’m not sure I know what I’m saying.”

  “I think you do,” Blue said, and whatever intensity she thought she could see on his face, it wasn’t in his voice. He just sounded cold. “You want it both ways. You want all that superhero shit. Batman and Gotham and whatever else you were talking about earlier. And at the same time, you want to pretend that I’m still that kid who lived across the street from you.”

  “I’m not pretending anything,” she said, but her voice was barely more than a whisper.

  “Neither of those people exist,” Blue told her, his voice hard. “I’m just me. I’m not that pathetic, angry kid, and I’m certainly not a hero. What I am is the only person who can keep you safe.”

  “Blue . . .”

  “Here’s how this is going to work.” It was as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’m going to chalk tonight up to exhaustion. But going forward, you do what I tell you to do. No discussion. No debates. And definitely no emotional outbursts, like I’m some douchebag boyfriend telling you to put on a few pounds to keep him happy.”

  It was like he’d slapped her. And the way his gaze bored into her, she thought he knew it. That it was deliberate, like
everything else he did.

  “I’m not your boyfriend,” he continued when she didn’t respond. Because she couldn’t seem to form words. “The only interest I have in you is keeping you alive. Do you understand me?”

  Everly understood him too well. She couldn’t tell if it was shame or humiliation that wound around inside her, burning like a red-hot cramp. But all she wanted to do was crawl off into her room, curl up into a ball, and pretend none of this had ever happened.

  Of course, the reason he was here was that doing that hadn’t worked the first time.

  “I’m going to need you to respond with words.”

  “I understand,” she managed to force out.

  “Good.” He was unyielding. So unapologetically ruthless, even just standing there. And she knew this was why she’d sought him out and would be the only reason she lived through this, if she lived through this, but it didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t make that great, endless embarrassment inside her ease any. “Now, I’m going to order some food. When it comes, I expect you to eat it. If you need to stamp off to your room and have a tantrum between now and then, that’s your call. I won’t judge you.”

  Everly reminded herself, because she clearly needed some reminding, that this wasn’t any kind of normal situation. If he had been her boss at the agency, or one of her coworkers, and he’d spoken to her like that—well. She would have ripped off a piece of him and fed it to him without thinking twice. She would have told him where he could take that attitude of his, and precisely where he could shove it.

  But this was what he’d been trying to tell her, she understood in the next moment. He wasn’t a normal guy. And this wasn’t any kind of typical, normal, palatable social interaction. He wasn’t some strutting, arrogant wannabe alpha male, trying to assert his dominance because he wished he was a big man.