Chapter 11 #2
I held up both of my hands, still a little short of breath. “I never want to hear the term sexual services used in combination with my name ever again, thank you very much. You guys are like my brothers, so to quote Creek: ‘Ew, no.’”
“You’re the one who started it,” Creek said, and while he wasn’t wrong, I had zero intention of handing him that victory.
“Yeah, whatever. Still a veto from me.”
Bean patted my knee affectionately. “Glad to hear you still think of us as your little brothers.”
“Always,” I assured him. “And nothing will ever change that.”
“And now you have another little brother in Forest,” Creek said because, apparently, it was torture-Nash-until-he-chokes-or-confesses-his-sins day.
Kill. Me. Now.
“Yes,” I said weakly. “Sort of.”
Creek’s eyes narrowed. Oh fuck. “What do you mean, sort of?”
“He obviously doesn’t have the same relationship with Forest as he does with us.” Tameron came to my aid, and I could’ve kissed him—though that would’ve restarted the whole sexual services discussion. “He’s only known him for a short time, and we’ve all served together for years.”
Creek slowly nodded. “The whole brothers-in-arms thing is different,” he agreed.
“How are things in the bar?” Tameron asked Bean, and if I didn’t know better, it seemed he had picked up on something being off with me and was rescuing me once again.
Bean whipped out his little black book, though the current version was actually red.
He made detailed notes every day about everything important, knowing that he’d otherwise forget.
“I’m still loving my job, and Zayd is giving me more and more freedom,” he said, flipping through the pages.
“We added cioppino to the menu, and it’s selling really well.
It’s a seafood stew,” he explained when Tameron looked puzzled, then held up his book to Tameron to show how it was spelled.
Learning ASL was too hard for Bean with his brain injury, even finger-spelling.
“It’s actually a recipe that originates in this area and is made with local seafood, like Dungeness crab. It’s served with sourdough bread.”
In response, my stomach rumbled. “That sounds amazing,” I said. “I’ll stop by sometime soon to try it.”
“Heath and I had it last weekend after we went surfing, and it’s delicious,” Creek said.
Bean frowned. “You were at the bar?”
“Yeah, last Sunday around two p.m. I wrote it down for you in your book.”
Creek was not known for his patience, but even he had endless understanding for Bean’s issues. Bean dutifully flipped back to that day, then nodded. “You wrote you loved it, and that the bread was amazing.” He looked up at Creek. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“And you, Creek? Still content in the Army?” I checked.
Combat duty was out of the question, considering he was an amputee, but he’d switched roles to being a recruiter, and it fit him strangely well.
Creek leaned back in his chair. “I’ve decided to retire once my twenty years are up. I’m done.”
Silence fell. “That’s a brave decision,” I said softly. “I know that must’ve been hard for you.”
“Not as hard as I had expected. I wasn’t ready to walk away before, but I am now.
And it’s not that I don’t like my job because I do, and I’m surprisingly good at being a recruiter.
I was a tad worried my leg would be a deterrent, you know, since it so clearly shows the risks of being in the military, but it’s turned out to be a great conversation starter.
It allows me to get real with high schoolers who’re interested and show that there are some true risks involved. ”
“So what’s next?” I asked.
Creek blew out a breath. “That’s the part I haven’t figured out yet. Maybe become a personal trainer for people with disabilities or limitations? Heath suggested it, and while I’m a little worried about going back to school, I do like the idea.”
“You’d be great at it,” I said without hesitation. “And think about how inspiring it would be for others to see how you’ve recovered and rebuilt your life. That’s real hope for them right there.”
“You don’t think the theoretical part would be too hard for me? I’m not a book person.”
No, he wasn’t. Creek learned by doing, which was why he’d been so good at his job as an ordnance specialist. “You can do whatever you set your mind to. And you’ll have Heath to help you, and you know I’m always willing to help you study.”
Relief filled his expression. “Thanks, Top. That means a lot.”
“I don’t know how you do it,” Bean said, looking at me.
“Do what?”
“How do you have time to be there for everyone when you have a full-time job, a house to take care of, and everything else? It’s like you have somehow managed to create twenty-eight hours in a day or something.”
I waved my hand dismissively. “Nah, it’s just a matter of time management. And priorities.”
Tameron leaned forward. “And does that priority include you?”
“Huh?”
He gestured at me. “You. Do you take time for yourself as well? To do what brings you pleasure?”
This time, I choked on my own breath. The mere mention of pleasure immediately brought last night’s encounter to the forefront again, which made it impossible to breathe.
Turned out I didn’t need a sip of beer to run out of oxygen, and it took another coughing fit to get air into my lungs again.
Creek was watching me with concern. “That’s twice you’ve choked. You okay, Top?”
I had to clear my throat a few times before my voice worked again. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
I needed to say something to get him off my back.
Bean had already forgotten I’d snorted beer out of my nose minutes before, and Tameron was observing me with eyes that were a little too knowing, but he wouldn’t say anything in front of the others.
But Creek absolutely would, and if I didn’t give him a reason, he’d start digging, and god only knew where we’d end up then.
“Hmm.” Creek didn’t seem convinced, but after another intense look, he apparently decided to let it go, and I breathed out with quiet relief.
Luckily, the conversation turned in a different direction, and Tameron never asked me to answer the questions he’d posed, for which I was endlessly grateful. But he kept watching me, clearly picking up on something being off.
When it was time to leave, Tameron and I walked to our cars together.
“You know what I wasn’t expecting when I became more proficient in ASL?” Tameron said, and I shook my head. “To be able to read people better. Because facial expressions are such an important part of ASL, I’ve become much more observant. Dayton calls it having Deaf eyes.”
My heart sank. I hadn’t imagined it. He had picked up on something. “Tameron…”
He held up a hand. “You don’t owe me anything, least of all an explanation, but something’s going on with you. I just want you to know that you can talk to me. Or if I’m not the right guy for this, talk to Dayton. It’s okay if he can’t tell me. I would understand.”
I swallowed thickly. “Thank you. That means a lot.” I hesitated. “Something is going on, but I can’t talk about it. It’s not… I don’t have permission from the other person involved.”
Tameron nodded. “I understand. But keep in mind that if someone else’s secret becomes a burden on you, it may be necessary to let them know. We’re not meant to carry other people’s baggage.”
I blinked, and a strange warmth spread in my chest. “That therapy is really working for you, huh?”
He rolled his eyes as he laughed sheepishly. “It’s not all bad.”
“Sounds like you’re learning some useful stuff.”
“Eh, some of it. Half of it is still way too vague for me, but some of it helps me process shit, so there’s that. And she’s big on boundaries, my therapist, so I’m learning about that too.”
“Boundaries are good.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for not saying anything in front of the others.”
“You’re welcome. But if you wanna prevent Creek from picking up on something being off, you may wanna practice not choking when someone mentions words like ‘sexual services’ and ‘pleasure.’”
My cheeks heated. He’d paid even more attention than I’d realized. “Yeah, I know.”
A hearty slap on my shoulder. “You have fun with that, Top.”
I groaned as I headed back to my car, waving a last goodbye at Tameron. Fun was about the last word that came to mind about this whole situation.
Though come to think of it, I couldn’t deny last night had been fun. A lot of fun, in fact. Maybe I could offer my…sexual services again for some more fun tonight?
A man could hope, right?