Saved by the SEAL(7)

By: Diana Gardin



Especially when her hero looks like Grisham Abbot does.

Memories of his golden-tan body gleaming in the sunlight cause a gentle wave of warmth to flood through me. His body was sick. His wet suit was pulled down to his waist, and there were just ripples and ripples of abs. I mean, the things seriously went on forever. Right down into the uncharted waters beneath the wet suit. Which I unfortunately didn’t get to see.

He was bigger than I remember, too. When I saw him last, it was right before he entered the SEALs training program. And he had a great body then, but not nearly as ripped and defined as he is now. At least it didn’t look that way before.

Mea’s giving me a slow, knowing smile. I can imagine that my face rivals the color of a strawberry at this point.

Damn Irish skin. I can’t hide anything I’m feeling when I blush like a maniac all the time. Why can’t I have beautiful, toffee-brown skin like Mea?

“Uh-huh. And how is Mr. Grisham looking these days, Greta?”

I groan, forgetting about the chicken and leaning back against the counter. “The same way he’s always looked. Only better. His hair is longer. Sexy-messy. Even when his focus was clearly on Berkeley last year, I always thought he was gorgeous.”

Mea claps her hands together with wild glee. “I know! And now he’s back! So did you get his number?”

My mouth drops open. “No, I did not. And he didn’t ask me for mine, either. So that’s that.”

Mea’s mouth goes all scrunchy, the way it looks when she’s devising a master plan. Mea’s master plans are notoriously devious, and I raise my hands for protection.

“Stop it, Mea. Just stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking, all right? Grisham isn’t for me. He never has been. I could never be with a guy who doesn’t put me first, and that guy was always all about Berkeley. Now he’s a freaking Navy SEAL. Do you know how dedicated those guys are to their jobs? Just as dedicated as my father was to his. And look how great that turned out for my family. No way. Just turn your brain around and go back to start. I’m not playing this game.”

My voice is firm. But all Mea seemed to hear was Grisham, Navy SEAL, and game. The girl rubs her two dainty hands together like a greedy little goblin.

“You always liked him, Greta. More than you would ever admit. I saw it. And I see it again now. Plus, you owe the man. He saved your life and he bought you lunch. Don’t you at least think he deserves a ‘thank you’?” She shakes her hips, shimmying to demonstrate her point.

My mouth is working to let Mea know that I don’t think this plan she’s hatching is a good idea. But my heart is squeezing so tight in my chest I’m in danger of going into cardiac arrest. My heart is happy at the thought of seeing Grisham again.

It’s a foreign feeling. I’m not sure when the last time my heart felt happy was.

“I did say thank you.”

Mea throws her hands up in the air.

“It’s like I’m always working with amateurs,” she mutters. “Of course you said thank you.” She tugs a piece of my long, inky hair with two fingers. “But now you need to show him thank you.”

I cross my arms in outright defiance. “And how am I supposed to do that when I don’t have any way to contact him?”

Mea smiles an extra devilish smile before skipping back into the living room.

Oh, God. I realize my mistake too late. I asked a question! And that was her green light.

“You just leave it to Mama Mea.”

She tosses a smug smirk over her shoulder at me as she heads toward her phone. Before she makes it to the coffee table where her phone is sitting idle, my own phone dings a text alert on the kitchen counter. I grab it up, still wondering what dangerous machine Mea is about to set in motion.

Hey there. It’s Grisham. Checking to see if you’re doing okay?



A shiver runs through me just at the sight of his name on my phone.

What the…?

“Mea,” I say, my words slow and succinct. “What did you do? And how did it happen so fast?”

She pauses, her hand midway to her phone. “What are you talking about?”

I point at my phone, frantic. “It’s Grisham. How is a guy I didn’t give my number to texting me?”

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