SEAL the Deal(23)
“Well, why don’t you come out sailing with me? I was just headed down to the boat basin. I need to brush up on my skills. We don’t do a ton of sailing in the SEALs and I don’t want to be shown up by one of these mids.” Mick winced, suddenly realizing what he was offering. Offering to take a woman out on a boat at sunset. A woman he promised to keep his hands off.
Was he insane?
“You have a boat?” Lacey said with surprise.
“God, no. I couldn’t afford one of these beauties at my rank. But I’m an officer and have my C license. I can take them out anytime if they’re not being used for training.”
“Really?” Her voice was hesitant. “You really can take me sailing? You won’t get into some sort of trouble, will you?”
Mick laughed, touched by the enthusiasm in her voice when she had only moments ago sounded so downhearted. “I really can do that.”
“It’s a date, then. I mean, a deal. It’s a deal.”
“Great. I’ll meet you at Gate One to the Academy in about ten minutes. It’s the one at the end of King George Street.”
“I know right where it is. See you there.”
***
It had been more than a week since Lacey had seen Mick in uniform, and she still hadn’t fully recovered from the sight. Yet this evening he had unknowingly topped himself when she discovered how completely arousing it was to be with a man who warranted a salute.
“How do they know to salute you since you’re not in uniform?” she whispered as a group of midshipmen passed, their hands raised quickly in the precise greeting.
“A lot recognize me. And the others are too damn scared to not salute and then see me standing at the front of their lecture hall.”
Mick hopped onto the boat and glanced down at Lacey’s feet. “I don’t want to seem like I’m already trying to get your clothes off of you, but you can’t come on board in those heels. Much as I love what they do for your legs.”
“Oh, of course,” she laughed as she leaned over and unstrapped her sensible Mary Jane-style heels, thanking God she had painted her toenails.
Reaching out his hand to help her aboard, Mick smiled. “Welcome aboard, Ma’am.” He gave her a mock salute, then busied himself with the lines.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked, enjoying the sight of him managing the lines and controls as though it were second nature.
“Not a thing. Just sit back and relax,” he said, tossing her a look over his shoulder. “And try not to look so damn sexy, will you?”
Lacey rolled her eyes with a grin, imagining herself shoeless in a suit Maeve would have called borderline-frumpy. She knew she was the furthest thing from sexy. Average was a word that best described women like Lacey. Mousy brown hair. Fewer curves than a highway across a Plains state. A halfway decent face, though lacking the ability or interest to play up her better features. That was more Maeve’s department.
Yet something about the way Mick looked at her made her feel anything but average.
Motoring out of the boat basin as they headed to deeper water, Lacey thrilled to see this new perspective of Annapolis, with the Naval Academy’s impressive buildings dotting the shoreline. She grinned as they passed the small inlet that Annapolitans called “Ego Alley” because boaters would parade in and out of the narrow strip of water to show off their boats to ogling tourists at the end of Main Street.
But it was when Mick cut the motor and the wind filled the sails that Lacey realized the true appeal of sailing. They whipped along the waves, the boat heeling only slightly with Mick at the helm. At Mick’s suggestion, Lacey hung her feet over the side, enjoying the feel of the water splashing onto her feet and the slight saltiness of the brackish spray on her face.
They sailed into a quiet cove in the Severn River where the water was calm.
“This is beautiful here,” Lacey said, watching a heron flying low across the river. Her breath caught from the casual touch of Mick’s hand on her arm as he moved her to the opposite side of the boat so that he could pull a line tight. The muscles in his broad expanse of a back contracted as he pulled the sails down and dropped the anchor, and Lacey appreciated for the first time how a simple white t-shirt can showcase a perfect male physique.
“And now, my surprise.” He grinned as he headed down below to the galley, and re-emerged with a bag filled with food and a champagne split. “The food is for us. The champagne is for you and you alone. Drinking and boating don’t mix when you’re the captain, especially when you’re sailing government property. But I didn’t want your celebration tonight to be without a bit of the bubbly.”