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explore it if she does. I think my being a SEAL might scare her off.”

Chasen was silent for a moment, an understanding expression on his face. Like he knew exactly what Noah was going through. Which he did. Looking for someone to share their lives with while doing a job that asked so much, not only from them but everyone around them, was the same thing every one of his Teammates had to deal with.

“You can’t hold it against her,” Chasen said. “If she doesn’t want to deal with it, I mean. Expecting a woman to live with the kind of stress our career choice puts on her is a big ask for anyone. At the end of the day, all you can do is let her make the choice. But if she decides to try, it’s on you to give her everything you have. At least everything the job will let you give her. Make sure she knows how much you care about her and that she’s important to you.”

They talked for a few more minutes, focusing on far less weighty matters than his potential relationship with Peyton or the danger that had her spending the foreseeable future at his place. The conversation centered on Noah’s knee and assurances that he was maintaining his physical therapy schedule and not doing anything that would jeopardize his recovery.

Noah promised he was being a good little SEAL. Outside of running down the occasional kidnapping vehicle, of course.

When Chasen left, Noah stood for a moment in the middle of his living room, wondering why it was so quiet. It took him a moment to realize he couldn’t hear the click of computer keys. Had Peyton fallen asleep at her keyboard?

He wandered down the hallway, stunned when he looked in the bedroom door and found her lying in the middle of the floor staring up at the ceiling intently. He stood there for a moment, waiting for her to see him, but whatever she was thinking about must have been damn interesting because she didn’t notice him until he pushed away from the door jamb he’d been leaning against. She started, turning her head his way, and he immediately felt like crap for making her jump.

“Sorry.” He offered her a smile with his apology. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I wanted to let you know that it was Chasen at the door. He heard about the kidnapping attempt and wanted to make sure we were okay.”

“Oh. That was nice of him,” she said, clearly still preoccupied. “Thanks.”

Noah wanted to ask if everything was cool, but when she went back to staring at the ceiling, he figured it would be better to let her work through whatever it was she was thinking about on her own.

“Wait!” Peyton said when he turned to leave.

He turned back around to see her standing in the middle of the room, her hand outstretched toward him.

“I could really use your body right now,” she said.

It was quite possible his jaw dropped. Noah couldn’t be sure because the rush of images that popped into his head right then made rational thought damn near impossible. He’d had women throw themselves at him before, but it usually happened after hanging out in a bar for a couple of hours. Never in a situation like this, and never as blatant and as matter of fact as this. He didn’t know how to respond.

“Can you get on the floor with me?” she asked.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, not sure where this version of Peyton had come from. She wasn’t acting normal. Or at least not what he’d come to think of as normal for her. Could this simply be a reaction to what happened tonight? Had almost getting kidnapped made her decide to do something she’d usually never consider?

He took a deep breath. “I know you went through a lot earlier, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to jump into this. I wouldn’t want you regretting it in the morning.”

Peyton frowned, clearly confused. She looked at him for a few seconds before her eyes went wide.

“Oh! You thought I meant…” A rosy blush colored her cheeks. “I wasn’t saying I wanted to have sex with you.”

He lifted a brow, wondering if he should laugh or be offended. That only made her blush more.

“Crap, that didn’t come out right! Of course, I’d have sex with you. What woman wouldn’t?”

If putting your foot in your mouth was an Olympic event, Peyton would win a gold medal for sure. She must have figured that out, too, because her face started heading for beet-red.

“Double crap! That didn’t come out right, either.” She sighed and ran a hand through her long, blond hair in a gesture that was seriously sexy. “Let me start over before I say something I’m really going to regret. I asked you to get on the floor with me because I suck at writing fight scenes and the end of this book has a really big one that’s giving me even more trouble than most. I thought you might be able to help me if we acted it out together.”

It was his turn to be embarrassed. Talk about jumping to conclusions. Though he had to admit, while there was part of him relieved Peyton wasn’t throwing herself into bed with him as a way to forget the earlier trauma, another part couldn’t help but feel disappointed. It was a stupid thought—one he fought to shove aside as quickly as he could—but no matter how hard he tried, the disappointment was still there.

“It was a silly idea,” Peyton added before he could respond, clearly embarrassed as hell now. “Forget I asked.”

She started toward her computer, but he stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm. Now she was making him feel bad about jumping to the wrong conclusion in the first place.

“It’s not silly. I’d be happy to help you.”

Peyton caught her lower lip between her teeth, a move as sexy

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