28. lucas
TWENTY-EIGHT
lucas
Marco had hit it out of the park.
When he’d come into the shop about getting some ink, I’d found myself talking about Charlee, knowing he’d gone through some similar relationship problems. I’d told him I wanted to make it up to her, start fresh, one thing led to another, and Marco and I came up with this plan.
Typically, he’d said, all of the cottages were filled this time of year. But a cancellation this weekend had left this one open. The meal I’d arranged with a little help from Owen, who knew the owner of a local restaurant pretty well. A hefty tip to set it all up was worth the look on Charlee’s face now as I held out her chair.
“Because I know you still like chicken parmigiana,” I said, taking off the metal cover that kept it warm.
“Very much.”
I sat, poured us both wines, and uncovered my own meal.
“I’ve been doing some research,” Charlee said. “About your job in the Army.”
“Have you now? What’ve you learned?”
Charlee detailed what she’d read about sniper school and the high level of training involved. I had to admit, it was pretty cute her tossing out phrases like “ten clicks out” and “insert at night to build your position,” even if some of the things she talked about weren’t really a thing. Clearly, she’d taken an interest in my job, though, and it was endearing.
“Ghillie wash. Is that a real thing?”
“It is,” I said, as I just finished chewing. Though the lake was mostly dark, a handful of boat lights reminded us that we were indeed waterside. “A ghillie wash tests the strength and durability of a sniper’s ghillie suit and weathers it to be sure it can effectively blend into your surroundings.”
“A ghillie suit. Vegetation, leaves. That sort of thing.”
“Exactly. But the suit is only a part of it. You have to manage your tracks, scent, shadow, glare, and a lot of other things to stay hidden.”
“It sounds incredibly. . . dangerous.”
“Just part of the job.”
I could tell there was something more she wanted to ask. And I had a feeling I knew what it was. If we were going to start over, trusting Charlee had to be a part of the deal.
“Go ahead,” I prompted. “Ask.”
“Why did you come home? Why did you leave the Army?”
I resisted closing my hands into fists, but the tightening of every muscle in my shoulders couldn’t be prevented. Someday I might be able to think about the whole situation without wanting to punch my hand into a wall, but that day hadn’t arrived yet.
I’d told exactly zero people this story, outside of those who already knew, and the words seemed to stick in my mouth.
“Talk to me, Lucas.”
I took a deep breath. “A sergeant first class got handsy with a new private who’d had a few too many drinks. Nice girl, though. I sort of took her under my wing. Tough cookie, but there was a vulnerability in her that worried me. With good reason, I guess.”
“Oh shit. I’m not gonna like this.”
“No,” I said, being brutally honest. “You’re not. When I advised him to cut the shit, he pulled rank. Told me to stay the fuck out of it.”
“Oh no.”
“So, I punched him.”
“I assume that is a superior rank to yours?”
“It is.”
“And that didn’t go over so well?”
“You can say that.”
“Jesus. So, what happened?”
“Pretty much what you’d expect. I was threatened with a court-martial but made a side deal to get out completely on a general discharge. I was barred from reenlistment but was able to keep my VA benefits.”
“Lucas.” The look in her eyes wasn’t something Charlee could feign. Although I didn’t need her sympathy—what was done was done—it was impossible to ignore her concern.
“It’s fine,” I lied. “I was lucky not to be dishonorably discharged. Kept my bonus and was able to open Grunt Ink.”
Our eyes met.
I didn’t say it.
But Charlee understood.
Maybe it was way too soon. Actually, it was definitely way too soon to be thinking this way since today was really our first date. But this was Charlee we were talking about.
She stood.
Sauntered around the table over to me.
I pushed my chair back.
Didn’t the saucy minx sit right on my lap. I put my arm around her, Charlee’s bare back too enticing to resist. She leaned down and kissed me.
It was a kiss that said, “I’m sorry that happened. I’m here for you.”
Fuck, I actually felt something stir in me. And for once, it wasn’t my dick. Although, that stirred too.
Jesus Christ, what was it about this woman?
My hand seemed to have a mind of its own. Slipped into her dress, right around to Charlee’s magnificent breasts. And just like that, our talk fell away. The meal over.
Charlee Donovan had been mine once and would be again. It was time to make it official.