Yet the first time our paths crossed on a SEAL mission-the kind that requires computer nerds like me to mingle with SEALs like him-I was so terrified that I barely remember him there. But every time after that? Oh, I remember plenty . . .
Abs for days, shoulders that fill up a doorway, and a hard-earned SEAL trident on his uniform.
Years later, he's hitting me up for the kind of favor that would fill any woman with utter rapture-pretend I'm his date on a wedding cruise to get his family off his decidedly muscular back.
Now I'm on a ship destined for paradise with a man who could shatter my heart. Because computer nerds like me don't end up with SEALs like him.
But I'll indulge in this fantasy, hating that I want so much more of this. Hating that this will end. It's too glorious-too addictive-being his plus one.
