Chapter 7
Bolo
An hour later I was ready to rip my face off as my brothers kept tossing around date ideas. Not because of their suggestions. No, those were actually helpful, but because fucking Flir kept making PowerPoints. If I had to watch one more goddamn PowerPoint, I was going to lose my shit.
There was a small scratching sound at the door behind me.
I leaned back on the two rear legs of the chair and reached backward.
Everyone was too busy arguing over why their date idea was the best to notice what I was doing.
Flir had his head down as he typed away, keeping meticulous notes and working on those motherfucking slides.
Strike was technically the Secretary for the club, but he’d delegated taking minutes of our meetings to Flir because the OCD bastard was going to do it anyway.
Strike had just shrugged and asked, “Why fight it? He’ll do a better job than me anyway.
” He wasn’t wrong, and no one saw a point in arguing.
I cracked the door open and smirked as Norman slunk in, keeping low to the floor as he spotted his target. This was the perfect revenge against Flir.
“Bolo.”
“Yeah,” I said, letting my chair drop and trying to keep the guilt off my face as I focused on my president.
“You get the final say here. You’ve got some good options.
” There was humor sparking there in his eyes.
He’d seen what I’d done but he wasn’t going to out me.
He hated PowerPoints, too. We all did. The military believed everything needed to be learned by inundating you with PowerPoint slides. “Zoo, hiking Camelback Mountain-”
“I’d suggest you keep that for sometime later, after the birth and recovery,” Drifter said, interrupting, then shooting Ruck an apologetic look for doing so. “Hiking in the heat isn’t going to be the best thing for a pregnant woman.”
“Don’t they say that women can keep doing the same level of activity in pregnancy that they’re used to before pregnancy?” Code asked, flicking a pen around on the table in front of him. When the silence stretched a little too long he looked up. “What? I know things.”
“The fuck you do,” Hype said with a chuckle.
“You’re right, Code,” Drifter said, “but it’s better to stick to places where EMS can get to you easily in case something goes wrong.”
“We’re not doing anything that requires EMS to show,” I bit out. Just the thought of bringing Devyn on a hike right now made me want to wrap her up in bubble wrap and lock her away in my bedroom. Though I knew deep down she wouldn’t allow that.
“Aw, what the fuck?” Flir complained.
I chuckled as I glanced under the table and saw that Norman had settled his heavy mass down on Flir’s boots. For some reason the dog loved the germaphobic bastard. It was hilarious.
“Who let him in?” Flir said, glaring my way.
I shrugged, then looked over at Ruck. “I was thinking the Salt River.” It was the beginning of June and operations for inner tubing the river had been in full swing for about a month.
It was early in the season and not as hot as it would be in July or August, so I figured it’d be good timing.
Plus, the river itself had a cooling effect, making it comfortable.
Dev had mentioned that she enjoyed being outside, so I had a feeling she’d enjoy floating the river.
And as much as I wanted to keep her locked away inside, where she’d be safe, I couldn’t do that.
She’d go insane, and so would I, for that matter.
Then I glanced over at Drifter. “Or is that a bad idea?”
“Still hot, but not strenuous,” Drifter said in a considering tone. “You’ll want to make sure she stays hydrated, keeps sunscreen on, and you need to have a way of getting out of there if she starts feeling sick.”
“It’ll probably be the only time you’ll be able to do it,” Strike added. “She’s going to be too big to do something like that later.”
Kilo made a choking sound. “I highly recommend,” he looked over at me, “you don’t mention the words big, huge, heavy, or say she looks uncomfortable. At any time. Ever.”
“Yeah, this dumbass learned that first-hand,” OD said with a chuckle.
Kilo winced and rubbed his chest. “All I said was she looked really uncomfortable the other morning,” he said with a sigh.
“She hit you?” Relay asked.
“Worse,” Kilo muttered. “She started crying.”
We all cringed in empathy. Nothing worse than your old lady crying because of something you said or did. Talk about crushing guilt and a heavy desire to fix it. “Thanks for the heads up,” I told him.
“We can work with the Salt River,” Ruck said. “Let’s get this started.”
“Get what started?” I asked.
“The planning.”
“First thing,” I said, “someone take asshole’s laptop away. No more PowerPoints. I can’t fucking take anymore. Not without a lot of alcohol.”
There were a lot of reasons that each of us decided to leave the military, and for all of us at least one of those reasons traced back to PowerPoint. In any branch of service, to become a ‘good’ officer, you needed a PhD in PowerPoint. Flir wasn’t an officer, he was just an obsessive dickhead.
“Wha…” Flir started, but before he could finish a word Code leapt out of his chair like he had feet on his ass and dove across the table, snatching the laptop and landing in a movie-perfect tuck-and-roll. He came to his feet holding the machine like a prize. His grin was full of pride.
Ruck got up and was gone only a couple minutes before he rolled in a whiteboard with some markers. “Here, a little old school, but less horrible than PowerPoint and we can’t trust him not to make slides.” He scowled at Flir.
“Agreed,” I said.
OD grabbed a marker and sketched out the path of the river, including the bridges and landmarks. “Okay, it’s not as simple as just sit your ass in a tube and float.”
“Um, it’s exactly that easy. That’s the whole point, sit in a tube, drink beer, float,” Merc pointed out.
“Scotch is better for the river,” Hype argued.
Kilo got up and stood next to OD. “See, you already fucked up. You’re so lucky you have us. You’re going to drink beer, in front of a firema- firelady, who can’t drink beer? Or Scotch,” he amended when Hype raised a brow.
“I see your point,” I told him, while Merc and Hype just shrugged.
Kilo wrote ‘supplies’ in the top left corner.
Under that in capital letters he wrote NON-ALCOHOLIC drinks.
Then underlined it three times. “Next you’ll want snacks.
In fact, you’ll just always want snacks from here on out.
And barf bags.” He held up a hand. “I know, sounds contradictory but just trust me. Sometimes they puke because they need to eat and sometimes it’s because they ate.
Never know what you’re going to get, so it’s best to be prepared at all times.
At least on the river you don’t need barf bags. ”
“Ah, that brings us to the next issue, Chum Points,” OD continued.
“Chum Points?” I raised a brow and folded my arms.
“Pregnant lady with morning sickness. Look…” Kilo made several marks on the map as OD oversaw the drawing. “This is where the current picks up and spins you about. Those are the areas she’s likely to get nauseous and chum the water.”
“So what do I do?”
Kilo answered, “Just before those areas have her pay attention to you, a stable point of reference. And if you can, have her eat something beforehand.”
“Won’t that make her more likely to hurl?” I asked.
“Possibly, but better she hurl food than heave on an empty stomach. Plus, Camila can make you snacks. Pregnancy friendly snacks, too. She knows all the ‘good for a pregnant lady’s stomach’ foods and flavors.”
I thought of all the many, many, times I dry heaved.
It was never pleasant. I made a mental note to add snacks to my go bag I always carried with me.
It was a fucking miracle that Kilo was actually being helpful for once.
I wanted to capitalize on that. He’d clearly already made a lot of mistakes with Camila, but at least I was benefitting from it.
“Fair enough,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. I’d be taking a picture of the board later. Just in case I forgot something, though I wasn’t likely to. Who woulda thought this clown show could be this useful?
Now Code jumped up and took a marker. “Okay, you also have some choke points you need to be concerned with, here and here.” He circled two areas of the river, one of them was a bridge.
“Choke points? What the fuck are you talking about? Nobody’s going to ambush us on the fucking river.”
“Oh no?” He smiled at me. “This is where Kappa Sig loads onto the river, and stops for lunch. Hottest bunch of sorority sisters at Arizona State University.” He tapped the side of his temple.
Code would know that. He was still young enough to date college girls. That was way too fucking young for me. I wasn’t old—dammit—but I was too old for them. That was for fucking sure.
“Think for a minute, old man. Half a dozen to maybe several dozen nineteen and twenty-year-old girls—women—in bikinis, young firm tits bouncing around in the open.”
“I’m not going to be looking at all the college kids,” I argued with a frown.
“And his lady will still be only nine or ten weeks pregnant,” Drifter said, his tone dry. “She’s still going to look fucking phenomenal in a bikini. Dumbass.”
“How do you know what she looks like in a bikini?” Code shot back, then paused and looked at me with guilt written all over his face. “I mean…I’m sure she looks great and all.”
Arching a brow at him, I asked, “You thinking about my old lady in a bikini, Kid?”
“No…no…I just…” He looked around for help but everyone was enjoying watching him struggle too much to intervene. “I just thought maybe she’d be feeling a little self-conscious, or something. You know how chicks can be.”
“How can they be?” Hype asked, his grin growing wider as Code’s mouth opened and closed a couple times as he tried to come up with what to say.
“Leave him alone,” Ruck said with a sigh, taking pity on the kid.