Page 21 of SEAL of Refuge

Not yet, I remind myself. Because right now, I’m already on a mission, and it’s answers I’m seeking, not someone else’s former treasures. Nerves twist in my gut with every second that passes.

What if he won’t help me?

Captain Leopold guides his car into the parking lot of a small gym and parks next to one of two trucks in the lot. As he removes his seatbelt and climbs out, I do the same, though I take a moment to pause beneath the bright sun.

I breathe deeply, enjoying the way the saltwater hits my lungs. The proximity to the ocean is honestly one of the reasons I never wanted to leave Charleston. The beach was always my favorite place to be.

When was the last time I stood on sand, though?

Life seems to have a way of getting away from you. And before you know it, it’s over. Or you end up nearly drowning in a river with no memory of how you got there.

I fall into step beside Captain Leopold as he leads the way into the gym. “This is practically Ryker’s second home.”

“After seeing him, I believe that,” I say without thinking.

Captain Leopold smirks at me, and my cheeks heat. Business. That’s why I’m here.

But when we continue through the gym, and I catch sight of the two men in a boxing ring just ahead, my mind goes completely blank.

Both men are slick with sweat. Their bare chests gleam with it.

One of the men is smaller in frame than the other, but he’s lightning fast, his muscles lean and toned.

However, even with his size, Ryker moves like a bullet. He steps, then dodges to the right, drops down, and sweeps a leg—knocking the other man onto the mat.

Ryker still hasn’t seen us, and the grin he offers the man on the ground is absolutely breathtaking.

Gorgeous.

He’s ruggedly gorgeous.

As in, swoony-mountain-man-carry-me-away kind of gorgeous.

This might actually be a problem. The guy looks like he was written straight out of a romance novel.

Beside me, Captain Leopold clears his throat. Ryker looks up, his gaze locking on me. That grin fades, and his expression turns serious as he reaches down and pulls the second man up.

Where Ryker’s tattoos stop at the elbow, this guy’s snakes down both of his arms and up over his chest. His gaze is sharp, his face clean-shaven.

“Carry on. I’m sorry to interrupt what I’m sure would have been an excellent whooping for Zane,” Captain Leopold says.

The man he’d referred to as Zane snorts. “I was just getting warmed up.” He retrieves a fresh bottle of water from a mini fridge and squirts it into his mouth while Ryker climbs out of the ring, his gaze still intently watching me.

I can’t help myself. My own gaze travels over his expansive chest, noting the dusting of hair as well as a ragged scar over his left pec. Then there’s a scattering of other scars along his torso and abdominal muscles I didn’t even know someone could possess.

Seriously, does the guy do anything but work out?

Navy SEAL, carry me away.

“What can we do for you, Captain?” Zane questions as he crosses over toward us.

“Actually, I’m not technically here.” He turns to me. “You have my number. Call if you need a ride, okay?”

“Yeah. Sure. Thanks.” I offer him a smile that I hope isn’t too nervous. He told me on the way over here that some of Ryker’s tactics are in a gray area he can’t get involved in. Even though he’d warned me that he’d have to leave, I still wish he’d stay. “Really.”

“You’re welcome. Stay safe, Miss Swanson.”

“You, too.”