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SEAL'd Perfection The Complete Collection: A Navy SEAL Romance Page 3
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As much as I’d tried to get out of it, the second season of my reality show was set to begin production in a few weeks, and everything had to be perfect by then. On the outside, I was rough and tumble. A tattoo artist, biker, Navy SEAL with ink covertly covering the majority of my body. But inside—I was a machine that thrived on order and control. When I’d signed the lease, I knew it’d be a tight deadline to work with, but with a lot of muscle and a few sleepless nights, it was more than possible to get everything ready by the time the camera crew came knocking.
“I’m so fucked,” I grunted, flipping the calendar shut so I didn’t have to look at the shit I had to take care of in writing anymore. I scrubbed my hands down my face, and when I opened my eyes again, I found myself staring straight into Kat’s eyes across the street. She was out front, sitting on the curb, her phone in her hands, and as soon as our eyes met, she dropped her gaze, and seconds later—just as I’d been ready to head for the door to go out and meet her—she jumped up and scurried back inside the diner.
Her haunting green eyes stayed with me long after she’d left. At the diner that morning, she’d been so standoffish and brash, with an edge that told me there were more layers to her story. She was beautiful—stunning, actually—but there was an obvious sadness clinging to her that left me burning to find out what it was all about...
I fucked around a bit, straightening up things the movers had left and every now and then, I’d glance over at the diner wanting to catch a glimpse of her, but I didn’t see her again for the rest of the day—or night.
Chapter Four — Kat
By the end of my shift, more details had flooded in about the new tattoo shop and the mysterious stranger who had leased it. Groups of regulars came in for lunch, all abuzz, gossiping amongst themselves…
“—some reality TV star!” Carol, a middle aged woman exclaimed, to her two gal-pals, Henrietta, and Maria. The three women came in for a late lunch, nearly every day after they went out for a jog together.
I stopped at their table, filling water glasses that were barely touched, in time to hear Maria reply, “I heard that too! I looked him up, looks like he has a show all about how to apply those tattoos. Can you imagine? A whole show about that?”
The other two ladies gave disapproving clucks under their breath. “Such a shame too…” Henrietta said, craning her neck to look out the window, as though she might catch a glimpse of the mystery man in question. “Without all that hideous ink, he’d be quite a handsome man…”
All three burst into giggles, and then, just as I was backing away, Henriette grasped my hand. “What do you think dear?”
My cheeks warmed and I cast a glance behind me, wishing someone would materialize with a kitchen emergency and bail me out of the awkward question. “About what?” I finally asked, feigning innocence, as though I hadn’t been eavesdropping on their entire conversation.
Carol cocked her head at me. “About the new man in town. Have you met him yet?”
“Well—uh, yes, actually. He came in for breakfast this morning,” I admitted, shifting from foot to foot, my eyes flicking between the three ladies, not daring to stay focused on one for too long.
Henrietta smiled at me and squeezed my hand. “And? What did you think?”
“He was nice,” I answered tentatively. All three women were staring at me, their expressions begging for more details. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about,” I said, my voice firm with finality as I spun away and went back to the hostess station.
The afternoon stretched on, and I picked up little bits and pieces as I went about my duties, but was careful not to engage in any of the chatter. If the rumor mill was to be trusted, Jace Winslow was from Chicago, had done a stint in the Navy, then went back to Chicago where he’d had a very successful, and sought out tattoo parlor.
After a couple of years serving his booked out clientele, Hollywood came calling and produced a reality show that followed him around as he ran his business and partied. Then, about six months ago, he had a very public breakdown, and to get away from all the media coverage, he closed his shop and stepped out of the limelight. Until last week, when he signed a three year lease at the shop across from the diner, ready to start over and get his life back on track, complete with a new season of his show.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about any of the new information. I mulled it all over, gathering as much information as I could—although, I couldn’t say why any of it mattered. I told myself it was just small town, idle curiosity, but somewhere in the pit of my stomach, I knew it had more to do with the piercing pair of blue eyes and the dark, mysterious, inked man they belonged to. There was something about him that was magnetic—I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame—and I couldn’t shrug it off.
At four-thirty, I turned things over to the night shift team, and raced out of the diner to go see Jax for a couple of hours before I’d have to leave to go to night school. When I got to Hilda’s I knocked softly, knowing it was likely Jax would be napping, and she opened the door seconds later with a bright smile.
“He’s still sleeping,” Hilda said quietly, ushering me inside. We both tiptoed past the beautiful sleeping form of Jax, crashed out on her couch, and went into the tiny galley kitchen. Hilda flipped on a burner and went about making a tea bag for me while the water warmed. It was something of a habit for us, whenever I got there before Jax was awake, we would whisper in the kitchen and drink a cup of tea.
“While Jax was napping, I caught the end of the news, and you’ll never guess what I found out!” Hilda said as excitedly as she dared with the sleeping toddler in the next room.
“Let me guess, it’s about the tattoo guy, right?”
Hilda’s smile faded and I instantly regretting stealing the wind from her sails. “Sorry, girl. It’s just, that’s all anyone could talk about today at the diner. It was like wave after wave of customers and that was all anyone could think about. I think Carol must have blabbed that I’d met the guy—” Hilda’s eyebrows raised an inch, but she didn’t interrupt, “—and suddenly it was like I was on the five o’clock news. Everyone wanted to put me in the hot seat and ask questions. What was he like? Did he say anything about the show? What do you think about his tattoos? And, one person even asked what he ordered. Can you believe that? As if he’s some kind of Martian just because he has some ink!”
I stopped my rant, and peeked my head around the side of the kitchen, out into the living room to ensure that I hadn’t disturbed Jax’s nap with my railing. After a beat, I turned my attention back to Hilda. “Sorry, I’m just kinda exhausted by the whole thing.”
Hilda smiled and poured the boiling water into my mug. “Here, dear,” she said, handing over the steaming cup. “This should help.”
“Thank you.” I blew the steam away, clearing my mind a little more with each puff.
“I’ve lived in this town nearly all of my life, you know. It’s not every day we get a TV star moving in and opening a business. I mean, to most of the people here, it’s no different than if Brad Pitt himself had walked down Main Street.”
I laughed softly. Now that I’d get excited about…
“It’ll blow over in a few weeks time, don’t worry. Carol and her harpies will be onto something else soon enough, dear.” Hilda poured her own cup of tea and we sat down at the small, four person table, in the nook off the kitchen. “You know what I was thinking about when they showed his picture?”
I shrugged. Hilda didn’t seem like the type to have too strong of an opinion on tattoos and piercings. I’d seen a few pictures of her daughter, Rachel, and she had a small tattoo on her ankle.
Hilda gave me a sly smile. “I was thinking maybe it’s about time you revisited that no dating policy you have.”
I rolled my eyes. “Hilda,” I scoffed. “He’s way too young for me…and…I have Jax. He’s the only man I need—or want.”
“Katherine. Darling. Dear, you deserve to have a nice man in your life. And what could be
better than a successful, ambitious young man who owns his own business? He couldn’t be that much younger than you are anyway. I heard he was a navy man as well.”
“Been there, done that, Hilda. And look where it got me.” I sighed.
Hilda reached over and laid one of her soft hands on top of mine. “Not every man is going to treat you like Jax’s father. It’s been two years, dear. It’s time to move on with your life.”
I knew she meant well, but her words frustrated me. As though I hadn’t already done everything to move on with my life—to provide Jax and me with a better future. Wasn’t that why I was working fifty hours a week and going to school? On top of everything else I already had going on? Like changing diapers, washing dishes, keeping the pantry stocked with enough healthy fruit snacks to keep Jax from a meltdown.
“I just want to see you happy,” Hilda said, patting my hand twice before returning it to her cup of tea.
I met her dark brown eyes and held her warm stare for a minute. Of all the people in my life, Hilda was the one who saw me the most. At least twice a day, when I dropped Jax off, and then picked him up, which on days that I had school, was more like four or five times. We spent hours together, watching Jax play at the park with the other kids, having tea while he finished his nap, and we all had dinner together at least once a week. I thought I was happy…well, at least reasonably so, considering everything that had happened over the last few years. But, if Hilda, the one person with a front row ticket to my life didn’t see that, maybe I was the one who was missing something.
Luckily, before I could even begin to untangle that deep, dark, bottomless pit of a question, Jax stirred in the other room and began whimpering. I immediately abandoned my tea to go wrap my arms around him. He melted against me, saying “Mama, mama, mama,” in his sweet, little sleepy voice, and my heart warmed, driving out any doubt of my happiness.
I was happy. Jax was my happiness.
* * * *
My self-assurances faltered slightly once I was in the car on the way to school that night. The community college I attended was about half an hour away, and proved—on many occasions—to be the perfect amount of time to get myself worked up over something, and then not reach a resolution before I pulled into the lot. My overactive brain had always been something of a curse and a blessing over the past two years. Before finding out about Mitch’s affair, my mind had been foggy and so focused on baby Jax that everything else had blurred and faded. Only after walking in on Mitch, that day at his office, had my analytical brain kicked back into action—and if I was honest—a little bit of overdrive since then.
Hilda’s words clung to me as I drove. “I just want to see you happy.”
I’d been right, Jax was the center of my universe, and the bright spot in even the darkest days, but maybe—just maybe—Hilda was right. Maybe there was something missing. But was it really something a man would fix? Even though I’d married at a relatively young age, I’d never been able to relate to the type of woman who built her whole life around the hunt, capture, and locking down a good man. Meeting Mitch, falling in love and getting married had felt incredibly natural, not at all forced, and although I’d been happy for many of those years, it had never been the full center of my world. At least, I didn’t think it was. Although, there was a giant hole left behind when Mitch ripped out my heart. It hadn’t fully mended yet, and some days I wondered if it ever would.
I absently rubbed my hand over my chest. I hadn’t been out on a date, or even let myself think about dating, since my marriage imploded. I was too busy moving, finding a new job, and fighting Mitch and his new wife, Hannah, in court. That alone had taken over a year, and when it was all over, another six months just to catch my breath. I had only recently emerged from the darkness and began to find my way again. I didn’t have room, time, or energy for a new man.
The school was approaching quickly, and I flicked on the radio in an effort to clear my head and get in the right frame of mind to be able to concentrate on my professors, not the endless pondering about life. But, despite my best efforts, my mind couldn’t stop pulling back to Hilda’s words, and somewhere along the way, the memory of Jace’s handsome face…
By the time school was over, I raced out to my car, eager to get home. Not only to see Jax and get him to bed, but also to get myself to bed and escape the haunting blue eyes that were embedded in my mind.
Chapter Five — Jace
Thanks to the hectic schedule of getting the shop ready for the camera crew, I didn’t get to stop for lunch until nearly three in the afternoon. Which for most days, ended up working out perfectly for two reasons — one, I avoided the lunch rush, which eliminated a lot of the stares and whispers from the townspeople who were apparently stuck in some weird, modern day dark age, where tattoos and piercings were equivalent with witchcraft or devil worship. And two, it meant that Kat was working and with a thinned out crowd of patrons, was forced to spend more time with me, and it became easier with each passing day to get her engaged in conversation about more than the merits of different menu items.
I learned about Kat in little bits and pieces. It started with conversations about movies, TV, and music, but little by little, I could feel her lowering her shield and letting me see a glimpse of the girl behind all the armor. It was in those afternoon visits, that we began to form a camaraderie that expanded beyond the borders of a waitress and customer relationship. By Friday, I’d decided I’d finally ask her out.
It was a little bit after three by the time I was able to get away from the shop and head over across the street, and smiled as I pushed past the doors, and saw that Kat was staring up at the large clock on the wall above the counter, and I told myself she was wondering where I was—her shy smile, and slightly flushed cheeks, when she saw me, confirmed my suspicion, and I smiled back. “Hey.”
“I was beginning to wonder if you were coming or not,” she said.
“Miss me, huh?” I said, flashing a smile her way.
She rolled her eyes, but the red on her cheeks told me that my comment had landed exactly where it was supposed to. “Not exactly, but I have big plans for you today. I didn’t want you to miss out.”
I arched a brow and went to sit at my now regular booth. Kat didn’t hand me a menu like she normally did. “All right, you’ve peaked my curiosity. What’re you up to?”
She smiled and then went to get me my regular iced tea. “Wait and see,” she said, setting down the glass and a straw in front of me.
Before I could ask more questions, she turned away. My eyes followed her, lingering on every curve as she went. She pushed past the kitchen doors and I exhaled sharply. My body tensed, my blood pressure on the rise, thanks to the thoughts of fucking her raging through my mind. There was something about her—everything about her—that I couldn’t get out of my system. She was hot as hell, her body the perfect mix of curves and toned muscles, combined with her long, dark hair and those green eyes…damn. I took a huge gulp of the iced tea, staring over at the wall to get myself under control. Otherwise, I’d be running into the kitchen to do a lot more than ask her out for a date…
Kat reappeared minutes later, holding a plate in her hands. She smiled over at me and my heart jumped into my throat. She was driving me crazy and had no idea. “Ta-da!” She set the plate down and I joined in her smile. “You said the other day that cheese steak was your favorite, and I did say I could sway the cook, so here you go, a new addition to the menu!”
I laughed and shook my head as I stared down at the sandwich. It was a simple thing, a sandwich, and yet, it felt like the best gift I’d ever been given. “Wow. This is great!” I looked up and got lost in her sparkling green eyes. “Thank you, Kat.”
She shifted her gaze to her shoes for a moment, just long enough for her dark hair to fall into her face. My fingers ached, wishing I could reach up and brush the strands out of her face. It had been a long time since I’d had the privilege of brushing back a girl’s hair. When our
eyes met again, my heart jumped in my throat, and for the first time in my life, I was speechless. Although I knew in my gut, it was time—I couldn’t force the words from my lips.
“You should see what I have saved for dessert,” she said, making me spit my tea out. I could only imagine what kind of dessert she was talking about. She must’ve realized what she’d said because not even a split second later, a deep maroon color burst onto her cheeks and she hurried away without another word. Was she flirting with me? I couldn’t stop smiling as I dug into the sandwich she’d had specially prepared for me.
When she came back to clear my plate, I was ready. After expressing further appreciation of the sandwich, I cleared my throat and started, “Hey, Kat, I have a question for you.”
Her green eyes bobbed to mine and her body tensed. “Okay…”
“How about I take you to dinner this weekend?”
Kat’s eyes went wide and she sputtered, “I, uh—I can’t. Sorry.”
“You have plans?” I prompted.
She shook her head. “No, not exactly. I just, really…it’s complicated,” she finally admitted with a sigh.
I smiled at her. “Life is complicated, Kat. Dinner isn’t.”
“Right.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Jace, there’s something you don’t know about me.”
A flash of disappointment ran through me as I stared up into her green eyes that were now dark with worry. “What is it?” I asked gently, praying she wasn’t about to tell me she was married or something.
She glanced around the nearly deserted diner and then sank down onto the bench seat opposite the table from me. She kept her hands folded in her lap, and didn’t meet my eyes for a moment. “I have a son. He’s three years old, his name is Jaxson, Jax for short, so…” she confessed, finally meeting my gaze halfway through.