Chapter 12
TWELVE
SAVANNA
Drew bounces in her chair as she watches Dalton and me bring the dishes to the table. A tightness pulls in my chest when I watch her eyes light up with excitement when he slides into the seat across from her. “That’s where my Uncle Hudson sits!” Drew announces, pointing to Dalton.
He quirks his eyebrow at her, reaches across the table, and grabs her dinner plate. With the salad servers, he places a generous helping of salad on her plate. “Oh, yeah? I hope you don’t mind I’m sitting in his spot tonight.” He winks.
Drew giggles. “You can sit there every night!”
Warmth begins to make its way up my neck as I slide in next to Dalton.
“Is that so? Is that a standing dinner invitation, Drew?” Dalton asks, placing the plate back in front of her, while sneaking a sideways glance my way.
Drew and I speak simultaneously.
“No,” I say firmly.
“Yes!” Drew shrieks.
Dalton laughs, lightly bumping my knee with his under the table. The feel of his bare leg touching my skin causes my heart to flutter. I immediately reach for my glass of wine and bring it to my lips.
This was a bad idea.
Dalton shifts his body across the table, extending his reach to pick up Drew’s glass to fill it with milk before sliding it her way. “Well, I think your uncle Hudson would get a little jealous if I permanently stole his dinner spot.”
I choke on the wine I just swallowed as I slap a hand to my chest.
Did Dalton just say permanently?
Catching my breath, I watch as Dalton takes a sip of his drink. “Also, it might be a little hard to have dinner here every night since I don’t live here,” he acknowledges, his voice edging on regret.
Drew makes a sound of disappointment as she twirls the pasta on her fork. “Well, can you move here, then?” she asks, with a mouthful of food. Her eyes shine as they bounce between Dalton’s and mine, waiting for his response.
“Drew...” I warn slowly, reaching for my fork in search of a distraction. A wave of nausea rolls through me as I think about his life in California. I’m sure this is the last place he wants to move back to.
“That’s a good question, Drew,” Dalton responds, studying me out of the corner of his eye. “One I haven’t given much thought to until recently—”
I cut him off. “Dalton’s been all over the world, little bean...I don’t think the island is somewhere he would like to settle.”
Drew sinks back into her seat, her face turning grim as she begins to push her food around her plate.
“Why do you say that?” Dalton responds, his head whipping in my direction. “You don’t think I would want to settle back in Tybee?”
I face him and give him a shrug. “Well, I mean, you couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”
I watch as Dalton’s eyes widen, shaking his head in disbelief. He opens his napkin and flaps it open, setting it on his lap. “And of course, your mom is moving to Charleston,” I rush out, eager to make my point and change the subject.
Dalton makes a humming sound as he takes a sip of his water, his eyes blazing through mine over the rim of his glass.
“Well! I’ll still be here!” Drew adds, sitting up straighter than before.
Dalton chuckles and points the fork at her. “You’re right, Drew. That reason alone is enough for me.” He winks.
Oh, God.
This was a very bad idea.
Drew squeals, like it’s a done deal. “Dalton, I have a question,” she says, her eyes gleaming.
Finally, a subject change.
“I’m all ears,” he responds mid-chew.
“Do you think you could beat someone up with a baseball bat?”
Dalton’s head whips from Drew to me as I choke on a bite of pasta. “Drew, why on earth would you want to know that…?” I don’t miss the hint of concern woven in his voice as he glances at me.
Drew shrugs, taking a sip of milk. When she sets it down, a milk mustache lines her lips. “Well, I was thinking...” She laces her hands across the table, like she is about to proposition him. “If my grandpa and Uncle Hudson are big and strong and can protect us, maybe you can too!”
I feel the color drain from my face as I watch Dalton turn over Drew’s words in his brain. His eyes find mine, then Drew’s. He rests his elbow on the table and leans forward, like he’s about to tell her a secret.
“I can absolutely swing a baseball bat, Drew.” He winks. “In fact, I had the most home runs my senior year of high school...even more than your Uncle Hudson.”
A snicker escapes my mouth at the comparison—my mind races back to all the times I’ve watched Dalton play.
He’s not wrong.
“Whoa!” Drew’s eyes widen. “You can really whack ‘em!”
Dalton bumps her fist from across the table as his eyes flicker to mine. “I sure can.”
“Thank you again for dinner, Sav,” Dalton says, bumping his shoulder into mine at the sink.
After dinner was done, I cleared the table, and Dalton followed closely behind as we set the dirty dishes in the sink. Now, we stand shoulder to shoulder and wash the dishes, like we do this every night.
I’m washing, he’s drying.
Like this hasn't been some romanticized fantasy of mine since I was fourteen.
But this can only stay a fantasy.
Because Dalton is only here for another two weeks.
How the hell am I going to tell him now?
That the daughter who was just sitting across from him at the dinner table is his.
“It was delicious,” he says, pulling me out of my trance from where I'm staring out the kitchen window. “They definitely don’t feed you like that in the Marines.” He chuckles.
The word Marine makes me whip my head toward him. “And certainly not when you're stationed in the middle of nowhere,” he casually adds.
My stomach drops. I hate talking about this part of Dalton’s life. “Oh, yeah?” I say, as nonchalantly as possible, rinsing a plate and handing it to him to dry. “And where is the middle of nowhere?”
Do I really want to know?
Dalton lets out a rush of breath. “Well. I’ve been to just about every country in the Middle East, one way or another.” He thinks for a second and then adds, “But I’ve spent most of my time in Iraq, Syria, and Afghanistan.”
Biting my lip, I nod, mentally processing all the dangerous places Dalton frequents.
Like it’s any given Tuesday.
I decided to press further. “And…what exactly is your job in the Marines?”
“EOD,” he replies casually, like those three letters have some lightbulb meaning to me.
News flash, they don’t.
“EOD?” I question, pinching my forehead together.
“Oh, sorry,” he replies, registering my confusion. “EOD. Explosive Ordnance Disposal. I pretty much find and dispose of explosive hazardous materials we come across out in the field.”
My head rears back like I’ve just been struck. “Like. Bombs?” The horror seeps from my voice, making it crack.
Dalton laughs at my response. “Yeah. You can say that. Real bombs, homemade bombs, anything that has the ability to blow up, really.” The alarm in his voice is nonexistent.
My body tenses, a feeling of paralysis overcoming me.
This is not what I had envisioned Dalton doing in the Marines.
A heavy sigh falls from my chest as I turn toward him.
“Dalton, that’s incredibly dangerous...I really don’t like to think of you out there like that.
” I bite my lip and stare down at my hands covered in suds.
Dalton finishes drying the dish in his hand and sets it down on the bamboo drying rack as silence overcomes him. He takes my chin in his hand, tipping my face up to meet his. “Look at me, Savanna.”
My eyes connect with his in an instant.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m good at my job.
” His thumb grazes back and forth on my cheek as he studies me.
“Have I seen some shit? Yeah, I’m not going to lie, I have.
But I always make sure I’m safe.” He pauses, then adds, “You have enough to worry about here with Drew. Don’t add worrying about me to the mix. ”
My face melts into his palm as I nod. Dalton inches closer, his eyes flickering to my lips.
“God, Savanna, you’re so beautiful. You make my heart race just like you did when we were kids,” he rasps.
I inhale a quick breath, gripping his forearms.
Drew snaps us out of our embrace once we hear her run into the kitchen, causing us to jump apart. “Mommy? Can we go to the beach and look for new shells before bedtime? I bet the tide brought new ones in today!”
My face flushes crimson, knowing Drew almost caught Dalton and me together.
“Please...” Drew begs, jutting out her bottom lip.
I peek at Dalton, who’s studying me. When he registers my silence, he clears his throat, attention landing on Drew. “How about this, Drew? I will take you to the beach to look for some seashells, while your mom here gets a few minutes to herself and takes a hot shower.”
He quirks an eyebrow at me, waiting for my approval.
I bite my lip hesitantly, as my eyes dart between them. Dalton has already spent almost the entire afternoon at my house, and now he's offering to walk her to the beach to give me a break?
I can feel trouble brewing deep in my gut.
Like this is something I could get used to.
Like he is someone Drew could get used to.
Sensing my hesitation, Dalton bumps my elbow. “God knows she needs it,” he adds, teasingly.
Drew throws her head back in a fit of laughter at Dalton’s playfulness.
My chest tightens as both of their laughter fills the kitchen. “Okay. Okay,” I cave, earning me a squeal from Drew.
I then turn to Dalton and narrow my eyes. “But you are so going to get it if you keep pointing out how badly I need a shower!” I warn, my finger poking into his chest.
Dalton leans in and chuckles out of earshot from Drew, “That’s the plan, Savanna.”