Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
I wanted him to be safe!
“Goodnight, Elliott.” He flicked off the lamp between our beds and made it perfectly clear he was done talking.
The silence was immediately unbearable. I just heard a low rushing sound in my ears—and the echoes of a time when we hadn’t been able to stop talking.
2015
After my buddies went home to their families, I left the booth and went over to sit at the bar instead. I ordered a new beer and half listened to the chatter going on around me. All sailors and Coasties in this joint. It was nice. Something familiar. Some were shooting darts, others occupied the pool table, most were in a good mood. Beer was flowing, country rock was good, and the hot wings were stellar.
I spun my wedding band on the bartop and watched it gleam in the light.
We’d made it work for seven years, at least. Could I consider that an accomplishment?
Maybe it was more Lizzie’s accomplishment for putting up with me. And my absence. And my occasional nightmares.
Sometimes, I wondered if I’d made a big mistake by leaving the Navy.
Everything had just changed after 9/11. I had changed.
“Don’t tell me it’s Elliott fucking Jones I’m seeing.”
I stiffened at the sound of that voice and planted my hand over my ring on the bartop.
Joel.
I turned toward the voice and had to swallow my shock at seeing him. Jesus Christ, fifteen years. The guy had grown up. Still that infectious grin, though. Fuck me, it was good to see him.
“Joel fuckin’ Hayward.” I grinned back. “Look at you. How are you?” Aside from ruggedly hot as hell.
“Much better now. I thought I was gonna have to drink alone. You mind?” He gestured at the stool next to mine.
“Hell no.” I pulled it out for him. “Are you home visiting your ma, or…?”
I hadn’t heard anything about him in a few years. Probably four or five.
“I’m helping her move, actually.” He slanted a smirk and then gestured to the bartender that he wanted what I was having. “She misses Florida, and since I’m there most of the time…”
That made sense. If I remembered correctly, they’d lived in Florida until Joel had been about three or four. And I knew Joel was in the Coast Guard. Impossible not to think about him whenever I saw a Coast Guard cutter or helicopter.
“That’s about the last update I got from Piper,” I chuckled. “You made it into HITRON, right?” Talk about skill. It was a tactical unit, the best of the best, that worked with drug interdictions at sea. He was based in Jacksonville.
“I did.” He smiled and placed his USCG ball cap on the bartop. I couldn’t really take my eyes off him. I wanted to catalogue every little change. Gone was the smooth baby face, replaced by stubble and cut features. “I can’t imagine she spoke fondly of me toward the end. That’s on me.”
I shrugged. “People drift apart.”
“If they allow it. I was just never home,” he said. “Between deployments and trying not to be an estranged son, I don’t have much of a social life.”
I snorted softly, relating to that a whole lot. “I know the feeling.”
He lifted his brows. “Uh, yeah. So let’s circle back to the last update I got on you—through my mom via yours, by the way. You left the Navy and joined the private sector? What the fuck?”
I chuckled and rubbed the back of my neck. “Don’t make me explain it. Truth be told, I don’t know what happened. I did one tour in Afghanistan, and then I met someone who changed my perspective, I guess.”
He nodded with a dip of his chin. “I heard you got married. Congratulations.”
Oh—no, that wasn’t it… “That’s a whole other shitshow,” I replied. “No, I was on leave in DC and met a private military contractor. Him and his partner, I should say. They’re both PMCs at a DC agency. I suppose you can say they recruited me.”
“And the rest is history?” He nodded in thanks as he got his beer, and he handed over his credit card.
“More or less.” I took a swig of my own beer and looked over my shoulder, then back at him. “You wanna get a table?”
His grin was back. “Absolutely.”
Okay, this night had definitely taken a turn for the better.
I slid off the stool and pocketed my wedding band.
“I just can’t believe it!”
“I know.” I chuckled and scrolled to the photo I’d taken of Blake earlier. “One year old today.”
“That’s cute—with cake all over her face too. Perfect.” He shook his head, amused. “Piper with a kid. Damn. Never thought I’d see the day.”
Truth be told, me either. Even our folks had lost hope, and not because Piper was old or anything. She’d just been so against having children, despite that she worked as a preschool teacher.