HOT SEAL Lover (HOT SEAL Team - Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

with the thought of talking about himself. Because tragedy was such a part of who he was, and he didn’t want to go there yet.
    “I’m a Navy SEAL. I like blowing things up and stopping the bad guys, among other things.”
    “Is your family still in Lafayette?”
    “Yeah.”
    She looked at him expectantly. “That’s it? Just yeah?”
    “Nothing to tell, really. There are a lot of Marchands in Lafayette, and I’m probably related to most of them.”
    Which was as much as he was saying about his family. Remy thought of his mother, barely living since the hunting accident that had killed his father last year. He sent money home to supplement the social security she got after Dad died. He knew she had what she needed, but his sister Emma said that Mom hadn’t left the house in two months now.
    There wasn’t much he could do about it, so he sent money and hoped Emma would figure it all out. If anyone could get his mother out of her blue period, it would be Emma.
    He knew it didn’t help that Roxie had been in the ground for the past four years. His family hadn’t been the same since that had happened, and they all knew it.
    Remy clenched his fist beneath the table, helpless anger welling inside him all over again at the fate that had befallen his twin.
    He should have known what was going on. And he should have fucking stopped it.
    Too late.
    “That must be nice, having so many relatives,” Christina said softly, staring at her cup again. “There’s just Matt and me and our dad now—and his wife, whom I love like a mother even if she’s not much older than I am. Granny died a few years ago, and our mother died when we were kids.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Well, it happens, doesn’t it? People die. One day, poof, gone.”
    Yeah, people died. One day they were vibrant and alive, and the next some asshole with emotional problems shot them dead. And you thought, Fuck, you should have told me, Roxie.
    And then you thought that you should have fucking known the dude you’d grown up with, the guy who’d been your best friend, was an abuser and unstable. But you never knew it, and now it was too fucking late.
    “Hey,” Christina said, and Remy focused on her again. She was frowning at him. “Are you okay?”
    Remy cleared his throat and picked up the coffee. “Yeah, fine.”
    She didn’t look convinced. “You looked so fierce there. I thought maybe I’d said something.”
    “No, you didn’t say anything. It’s fine. Really.”
    He reached for her hand across the table again, threading his fingers through hers. One simple touch and he already felt calmer. What was it about her?
    He didn’t know, but he wanted to find out.
    “So, we’re doing this again. You, me, dinner. When’s a good day?”
    She dropped her gaze to their hands. “I don’t know if there is a good day,” she said softly. “My life… it’s crazy right now.”
    He snorted. “ Cher , I’m a SEAL. Believe me, I understand crazy.”
    She lifted her head. Their eyes met, and something kicked in his gut. Maybe it kicked in hers too, because she gave his hand a light squeeze.
    “Okay. Saturday night then.”

4
    W hy had she agreed to go on a date? Christina stood in her bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror and asking herself for the millionth time if this outfit was the one.
    She’d changed four times. The dress she wore now was too flowery, too virginal. It was cream with little pink primroses all over it. She’d paired it with kitten heels and a white cardigan because it was often cold in restaurants.
    Then she’d put on her mama’s pearls—and she looked like a damned ’50s housewife. June Cleaver or Mrs. Cunningham, maybe. Starched and perfect when she was anything but. Why couldn’t she loosen up a bit? Her father had married a succession of strippers after her mother died, yet her feminine role model had been her grandmother. Not that she needed to dress like a stripper, but the point was that none of those