at the way her mother said the nickname, but she was beyond having fun. “I’m Carolyn’s mother, Sheila Winters.”
Her father came from nowhere and shook Hunt’s hand. “Carl Winters III. You must be related to the West Palm Huntingtons.”
“No, sir.”
“Ah, the New York Huntingtons then. Huntington Oil.”
Again, Hunt shook his head. “I grew up a short distance from here, but my family wasn’t in the oil business.”
This was like living in some alternative universe where things like erotic faxes and sailors and parents ended up together in one place. This was not the planet Earth Carly knew and loved.
“And you’re in the military?” her mother asked, and Carly gave her mental kudos for changing the subject so deftly. Part of the whole white-glove upbringing.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, we’re very patriotic. In fact, I ran a charity auction for our troops last month.”
“We appreciate the support,” he said.
“So, this is the gentleman you were telling us about, Carolyn?” her mother asked.
Just kill me now.
Heck, for all she knew, Hunt could be an axe murderer.
“Um,” she said, looking into Hunt’s eyes and wondering how far he would be willing to go with this ruse. He hadn’t mentioned the fax yet, so maybe she could get through this with some pride intact.
“I guess that’s why my ears were burning. I just got off work and stopped by to see if Carly wanted to catch some dinner,” he said without a trace of hesitation in his voice. He grabbed her hand, his thumb traced her palm and then he brought it to his mouth and kissed it.
Okay. Not an axe murderer, but he was definitely going to kill her if he kept doing things like that.
Samantha was right. It had been way too long for Carly. And she wanted a lot more than dinner. She wanted to sink into the sand, never to be seen again. Then again, a big part of her wouldn’t mind pulling Hunt down with her.
He knew her fantasy, knew how she wanted to be touched and where….
No, he didn’t know anything, she told herself firmly. When her parents left, she’d explain things to this Hunt person. He was in the military, and they must have a code, or some kind of moral obligation that would make him keep his mouth shut and protect her secret.
Why else was he playing along with this dinner thing?
“We’ve finished dinner, but we haven’t had dessert yet. Why don’t you join us?” Sheila Winters asked.
“Dessert sounds great,” Hunt said with obvious enthusiasm. Carly fought a gasp and squeezed his hand instead, since he hadn’t released hers. He took the opportunity to pull her closer and she swore he was hypnotizing her parents, right in front of her.
Granted, it was a trick she’d be more than happy to learn.
“I’ll pour the coffee. Come help me, Carl,” her mother urged with a smile on her face. A smile. Hunt definitely had to have some kind of special superpowers, which didn’t bode well for her.
When her parents were a safe distance away, she whispered, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Apparently, helping you out of a jam,” he said with an innocent shrug. It would have worked, too, except the man was far from innocent. There was something so commanding about his presence that she’d been ready to spill everything, until common sense had taken over.
Hunt was in the military, and all the guys probably gave off that air. Still, she’d known him for less than five minutes and she already knew he was nothing like any man she’d ever met. What were the chances…
“Wait a minute. I thought SEALs were stationed in California and Virginia?”
“We pop up in a lot of unexpected places,” he said.
“I’ll bet you do. And how will you pull this off?” she asked.
“How will we pull this off, is the bigger question? Because your parents think I’m your significant other, and you didn’t tell them I’m not.”
“You went along with it.”
“You seemed a little desperate.”
“Why are you doing this?” Why wasn’t he letting go of her hand?
“I want to know what happens at the end.”
He obviously wasn’t aware that the fantasy was always better than the reality. The problem was that the two had, moments ago, collided head-on, and she was caught inside the wave, while he’d aced her with a total 360, leaving her nowhere to bail.
In a surfer’s world that signaled a potential wipe-out. It was definitely time to kick out of this man’s wave. “You go home, and I have to tell my parents you’re not my boyfriend.” She took her hand back from his and immediately missed the contact.
“I’m nobody’s boyfriend, Carly. But I wasn’t talking about after dessert. I was talking about the end of this fantasy.” Hunt smiled a wide, wicked grin and winked, then he sauntered past her into the house. “I hope you made my favorite, honey,” he said loudly. “Because I’m in the mood for some sugar.”
3
SUGAR HAD BEEN THE first thing on his mind, too. Maybe that could finally put some of the pieces of this puzzle together.
Maybe he could get Carly to reveal more of her fantasy, although he’d finished it off a dozen different ways in his mind already.
It had been a long drive, and the steady hum of the bike vibrating between his legs made the highway one long pre-orgasmic stretch.
Now, he forced himself to tamp down the enthusiastic buzz as he sat across the table from Sheila and Carl Winters. He’d recognized their names immediately when he’d seen them on the list. They were upper high society in the small Vero Beach community, always making the papers for one thing or another.
Carly Winters was one interesting lady even without the fax. And, from the strained look on her face, he had to guess that the erotic fax thing wouldn’t go over well with this set.
How he’d suddenly become the long-lost boyfriend was anybody’s guess.
“So Hunt, are you a Marine?”
He fought the urge to yell, hell no, and instead said calmly, “No, ma’am. I’m a Navy SEAL.”
“Would you mind my asking what a SEAL is?”
He smiled at Sheila Winters, because at least that answer was easy. “We’re part of the Special Operations division. SEAL is an acronym for sea, air and land. Although we’re primarily known for our water ability we can pretty much handle any assignment, regardless
