Saved by the SEAL by Diana Gardin

office before my father. With a little whoop of triumph, I use the key card he gave me to let myself in. I turn on the computer at the front desk, which is now my desk, and head to the little lounge to make myself a cup of coffee. My father cleaned out a secondary desk in his office for Kyle, and I know it won’t be long before he arrives.
    There’s a knock on the office door, and I check the giant wall clock hanging in the front lobby: 7:45 a.m. We don’t even officially open until nine. Who would be knocking?
    I hesitate, wondering whether I should just ignore it, or open the door and inform whoever it is of our office hours. The visitor knocks again, and I curse under my breath.
    I walk to the front door. Right now, I really wish this was a retail facility and the doors were glass, rather than the dark steel so that I can have a view of who is standing on the other side.
    Suck it up, Greta , I tell myself. The boogeyman doesn’t come out this early in the morning.
    I pull the door open to find a bike messenger standing there. He hands me a large white box, and nods. “Have a nice day.”
    “Wait!” I call as he mounts his bike.
    I want to know why the hell a bike messenger is delivering to us so early on a Friday morning. But he ignores me, riding away before I can say another word or ask him a single question.
    Shaking my head with confusion, I sit down at my chair and inspect the white box. My name is labeled on the front, but nothing else. Just my first name.
    When I open the box, I gasp, one hand flying to my mouth.
    Lying in the box are a bunch of long-stemmed bloodred roses.
    “What the...” I dig around in the box, searching for a note.
    I’ve never been sent flowers before in my life. I rack my brain, trying to think of who would even think to do such a thing. Just then, I hear the buzz of a key card being used and Kyle walks in through the front door.
    “Hey, Greta,” he greets me cheerfully. Our eyes meet, and his eyebrows shoot up curiously. “What’s wrong?”
    I glance down at the box, unable to speak, before looking back at him helplessly. He comes over to the desk quickly, walking around to where I’m seated, and peers into the box.
    “Wow,” he says quietly, fingering the bud of one perfect rose. “From your SEAL, I’m guessing?”
    Well, crap.
    I hadn’t even thought of Grisham until Kyle referred to him as my SEAL. Would he send me flowers? A heated smile crosses my face without my permission before I beat it back down with pure willpower.
    “First of all,” I retort, “Grisham isn’t my SEAL. We’re friends.”
    Kyle looks doubtful. “A friend who makes sure he’s the one teaching you combat moves instead of the well-trained guys who work here? A friend who sends you roses?”
    I gaze down at the box of roses in my lap again. Fingers of pleasant surprise walk across my skin, paralyzing me. “I have to send him a text…thank him.”
    Kyle shrugs. “Hop to it, then. You want me to find something to put those in? You can keep them on your desk all day.”
    Now a real, unhidden smile breaks out, and I don’t bother to try and hide it. Looking at flowers sent by Grisham all day is going to make this the best Friday ever.
    “Thanks, Kyle.”
    He goes off in search of a vase, and I pull out my phone to thank “my SEAL.” I know he’s in a workout, and I don’t want to interrupt him with a phone call. I figure he’ll text me back when he’s finished.
    Hey Romeo…thanks for the flowers 
    There. That should do it. Not too sappy, even though I feel like gushing.
    I’ve just put my phone back in my purse when I hear the ding that signifies I have a text. My spirits soar, realizing that he texted me back during a workout.
    Grisham and I have spoken or texted every night this week. Our conversations have been easy and flirty, but every single time we talk, I get off the phone with tingly limbs and a racing heartbeat. He just makes me feel…lifted. Like I can fly. I’m