people.”
“I like her. Always have, even though the feeling wasn’t exactly mutual.”
“She was touched that you wanted her to come.”
“Yeah, she told me that this afternoon.”
Morgan blinked. “She did?”
“She yelled up at me while I was in the attic.” He couldn’t help grinning as he remembered looking down through the access door to see Sabrina at the bottom of the ladder with her hands on her hips, her face all serious and intent. “Before she ran off, she also said she knew I’d have a good time with her sister.”
Morgan’s eyebrows hiked up. “Really? She didn’t mention any of that to me.”
“I thought it was kind of sweet. But maybe you’d better not tell her I mentioned it.”
She made that cute zipping motion across her lips she’d used before.
“Sabrina had it right,” he said. “I am having a good time with her sister. I always have a good time with you.”
Except for that weird night in Portland when you looked like you wished I’d fall into the bay on the way home
.
She blushed and gave him a hesitant smile. “I’m having a good time too.” Then she laughed. Man, he loved her laugh. “It’s hard not to when you’re eating sushi-grade tuna and drinking fine wine. So I must thank you again, Ryan. This is special.”
Then she put her glass down and gave him a mock scowl. “But hey, all we’ve talked about is the B&B and Sabrina and me. Don’t we get to talk about you for a while? Fair is fair after all.”
He mentally flinched. Morgan probably thought this was exactly the sort of setting for sharing secrets. A nice dinner, a couple of glasses of wine, and before you know it, you’re blabbing out your life story. Well, that was never going to happen with him.
Then again, he was happy she was feeling relaxed enough both to ask and to think he would answer. He could afford to share a bit with her.
A bit.
“Just don’t waterboard me for info, okay?” he said drily.
“You are just so funny,” she mocked. “How about you start by being a little more forthcoming about your military career? All anybody seems to know is that you fought in both Afghanistan and Iraq. It seems to me that you must have liked army life to have stayed in the service so long.”
Ryan hesitated, weighing his response. He’d have preferred Morgan to pose a specific question or two instead of probing for some kind of bullshit self-analysis of his military career.
“I did two tours in Afghanistan and one in Iraq,” he said.
Next question, please.
Morgan smiled when he didn’t elaborate. “That’s the way you want to play it, huh?”
Ryan shrugged. “Why don’t you ask another question, and we’ll see how far we get.”
Morgan propped both elbows on the table and rested her chin in her palms. “Some people think you were Special Forces, and that a lot of stuff you did would be classified. Is that why you don’t talk about it?”
“Not to get too technical, but they’re actually called Special Operations, not Special Forces—unless you’re referring to what people sometimes call the Green Berets.”
“Okay, professor.”
“Anyway, I trained for Spec Ops after Iraq. And you’re right that some of what we did is classified. But most of our time was spent training and making sure we were ready to go on a moment’s notice.”
She gave him a sheepish grin. “I will admit to spending some time on the Internet researching U.S. Special Forces—I mean Special Operations. I’m thinking you might have been Delta Force since they’re army.” She paused. “That is, if Delta Force even exists. Apparently there’s some doubt about that.”
“Ah, the good old Internet.” As far as Ryan was concerned, the Internet was often a cesspool, especially when it came to things military. He never talked about Delta or what he’d gone through to get chosen for that elite unit, norcould he ever reveal anything about the counter-terrorism missions he’d been part of in half a
“I like her. Always have, even though the feeling wasn’t exactly mutual.”
“She was touched that you wanted her to come.”
“Yeah, she told me that this afternoon.”
Morgan blinked. “She did?”
“She yelled up at me while I was in the attic.” He couldn’t help grinning as he remembered looking down through the access door to see Sabrina at the bottom of the ladder with her hands on her hips, her face all serious and intent. “Before she ran off, she also said she knew I’d have a good time with her sister.”
Morgan’s eyebrows hiked up. “Really? She didn’t mention any of that to me.”
“I thought it was kind of sweet. But maybe you’d better not tell her I mentioned it.”
She made that cute zipping motion across her lips she’d used before.
“Sabrina had it right,” he said. “I am having a good time with her sister. I always have a good time with you.”
Except for that weird night in Portland when you looked like you wished I’d fall into the bay on the way home
.
She blushed and gave him a hesitant smile. “I’m having a good time too.” Then she laughed. Man, he loved her laugh. “It’s hard not to when you’re eating sushi-grade tuna and drinking fine wine. So I must thank you again, Ryan. This is special.”
Then she put her glass down and gave him a mock scowl. “But hey, all we’ve talked about is the B&B and Sabrina and me. Don’t we get to talk about you for a while? Fair is fair after all.”
He mentally flinched. Morgan probably thought this was exactly the sort of setting for sharing secrets. A nice dinner, a couple of glasses of wine, and before you know it, you’re blabbing out your life story. Well, that was never going to happen with him.
Then again, he was happy she was feeling relaxed enough both to ask and to think he would answer. He could afford to share a bit with her.
A bit.
“Just don’t waterboard me for info, okay?” he said drily.
“You are just so funny,” she mocked. “How about you start by being a little more forthcoming about your military career? All anybody seems to know is that you fought in both Afghanistan and Iraq. It seems to me that you must have liked army life to have stayed in the service so long.”
Ryan hesitated, weighing his response. He’d have preferred Morgan to pose a specific question or two instead of probing for some kind of bullshit self-analysis of his military career.
“I did two tours in Afghanistan and one in Iraq,” he said.
Next question, please.
Morgan smiled when he didn’t elaborate. “That’s the way you want to play it, huh?”
Ryan shrugged. “Why don’t you ask another question, and we’ll see how far we get.”
Morgan propped both elbows on the table and rested her chin in her palms. “Some people think you were Special Forces, and that a lot of stuff you did would be classified. Is that why you don’t talk about it?”
“Not to get too technical, but they’re actually called Special Operations, not Special Forces—unless you’re referring to what people sometimes call the Green Berets.”
“Okay, professor.”
“Anyway, I trained for Spec Ops after Iraq. And you’re right that some of what we did is classified. But most of our time was spent training and making sure we were ready to go on a moment’s notice.”
She gave him a sheepish grin. “I will admit to spending some time on the Internet researching U.S. Special Forces—I mean Special Operations. I’m thinking you might have been Delta Force since they’re army.” She paused. “That is, if Delta Force even exists. Apparently there’s some doubt about that.”
“Ah, the good old Internet.” As far as Ryan was concerned, the Internet was often a cesspool, especially when it came to things military. He never talked about Delta or what he’d gone through to get chosen for that elite unit, norcould he ever reveal anything about the counter-terrorism missions he’d been part of in half a
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