Abbey's POV
Entering the kitchen, my throat constricts as I take in the sight of the Navy Seal, his back is toward me, his t-shirt straining across his body, his biceps flexing as he bends over to place some plates into the dishwasher. The move draws my eyes to his ass and every single reminder I said to myself last night and this morning goes right out of my head.
‘Oh’ I sigh unintentionally, drawing his attention, the Military man straightening up and facing me, giving me a full view of his body in that sinful shirt, the hem tucked into the waist of low slung sweats that should be illegal. Men like Lincoln should not be allowed to wear sweats, what the hell God? You make him look like that and then give him clothes that make a girl imagine one thing? What are you doing? How are we supp
