Chapter Eight
For the next three hours, Charlie was the perfect tour guide.
They visited the hockey hall of fame, strolled through little Italy and were now heading to the distillery district for lunch.
He had thought things might be awkward, but Charlie clearly loved this city and was happy to show him around and tell him what she knew.
He made a point of keeping the conversation light, asking appropriate questions and being interested in what she had to say.
He didn't have a lot of time, and he wanted to ask her about Simon, but that wasn’t something he could just come out with.
He sure as hell didn't want to ruin this truce they seemed to have.
“This is one of my favorite areas of Toronto. It was an old whiskey distillery but now it’s a super cute place to hang out.”
“Cute?” He arched an eyebrow.
She stopped and looked at him. “Yes, cute. Got a problem with that?”
Donnie held up his hands, unsure if she was joking. “Nope. I love cute things.”
“Good. Me, too.” She turned and continued walking. “It has cute galleries, cute shops, cute restaurants, and look at these cute cobblestones.” She emphasized every cute and he couldn't hold back a laugh.
“It’s all very cute.”
“See? You agree.” She grinned and he relaxed more. The ice was breaking. He wanted so badly to remove her sunglasses to see her eyes and had to stop his hands from reaching for her.
“It really is beautiful,” he said more seriously as he stared at her. A small blush appeared on her cheeks, and she quickly looked away.
“Hungry?” she asked.
“Of course, I'm hungry. You’ve had me walking for hours,” he said, teasing.
“Aren’t you Navy boys meant to be able to keep going for hours?”
Donnie swallowed at the comment, even though it had been said innocently. “Yes. But even sailors need to refuel.” Fuck, she had no idea how much she turned him on.
Engaged, dude.
Charlie led him onto a small patio, and a host showed them to a table against a low fence.
Donnie held out her chair and waited for her to sit, before taking his seat opposite, back to the fence, and checked out his surroundings.
It was ingrained into him. A dozen tables, most occupied with couples.
The tables were wooden, and the chairs were painted in bright colors, giving it a Mexican feel.
Lights were strung above, and he imagined it would be quite romantic in the evening.
A server appeared with menus and took their drink orders.
“I’ve eaten here before. It’s excellent. The fajitas are to die for,” Charlie said as she studied the menu. Donnie glanced at his quickly. He didn't really care what he ate. He was just glad to be here with this gorgeous woman.
The server returned with their drinks. “Did you decide?”
“Ladies first.”
“Umm. I think I’ll get the salad,” Charlie said, not looking particularly thrilled at the prospect.
Donnie was transported back to high school.
Kids taunting her because she was bigger than they were.
Was it possible she still worried about that?
She shouldn't. All those curves would have any red-blooded man’s heart pumping. His was.
“You just told me the fajitas are to die for. Why don't we share some and get a salad on the side?” he suggested.
“I shouldn’t.”
Donnie frowned, but he didn't want to push it and embarrass her. He smiled at their server.
“How about you bring us a large chicken fajita and a salad. If the lady only wants salad, I’m sure I can finish off the fajitas by myself.” He handed the server his menu.
“You got it.”
“Tell me about your job. Government?” he asked Charlie as the server left them.
“Yes. I primarily support FSOs around the world.” She paused. “You know who they are, right?”
He smiled. He’d rescued a few in his time. “Yes. Foreign Service Officers.”
“Right. Of course. FSOs, ambassadors, and US consuls, like here in Toronto.”
“They all do great work.”
“They do. When they get sent to wherever, they have a personal assistant that usually goes with them, and then there are other staff already at the embassy, too. I back up the personal assistants if they need to come home for any reason. I go and fill in until they return.”
“So you get to travel a lot.”
“Yes. I do. Never know where I’m going next.”
“Did you go to university for political science?”
“You remember.” She seemed surprised.
“I remember all our conversations.”
Another blush spread across her cheeks. He liked still having that effect on her.
“Yes, I got my political science degree. I love working in this field. In some countries, we really get to help people. Getting aid and food to them. Fighting to get schools built. It means something.”
Her face lit up talking about it. The sun went behind a cloud and she took off her sunglasses and Donnie almost gasped when those piercing blue eyes looked at him. He could drown in them and die a happy man.
“Of course, some of the places I’ve been to aren’t always as nice as this.” She grinned.
“Like where?” he asked, curious.
“I was in the Middle East for a bit. Qatar, Yemen, Daram. I’m sure you must know those places.”
He sure did. His stomach dropped at the thought of her being anywhere near them, but he kept those thoughts to himself.
“Yes. I’ve been to them all.”
“It’s never great going to some of those places, but it’s where we can make the most difference.”
Donnie listened as she described her work and some of the projects she’d been involved in, even if only for a couple of weeks. Getting aid to some of the hardest hit areas, not just from war, but floods and earthquakes. Efforts to build new schools and medical centers. Impressive.
“You really love what you do,” he said when she paused to take a drink. Her whole body had come alive as she spoke about her work.
“I do. I mean it’s not glamorous or anything. I’m just an assistant.”
“Nobody is just anything. Fancy titles and large paychecks might be right for some people. I think it’s more important to love what you do. To be happy. Sounds to me like you’re very good at what you do. You care. They’re lucky to have you.”
“I don’t know about that. But I’ll do my best for however long I have left.”
As if someone had switched off the light, her face dimmed.
“Are you leaving? Is it a contract or something?” he asked.
She stared at her drink. When she raised her head, she was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“No, it’s nothing like that. I’m getting married. Things change. Next chapter and all that. Who knows how much longer I’ll be there.” She waved her hand dismissively. “So, what exactly do you do in the Navy?” she asked, changing the subject and taking a sip of her sparkling water.
He wanted to talk more about her marriage and the next chapter, but not wanting to cause any tension, he obliged her in the change of subject. He couldn't tell her about Onyx, but he could say he was a SEAL. That wasn’t lying. He would always be a SEAL.
“I’m on a team.”
“What kind of team?” she asked.
The server returned with their food and placed it all in the center of the table and gave them empty plates. Donnie waited until she left before answering.
“I’m in special operations.”
Charlie had been helping herself to salad but stopped.
“Like a SEAL?”
“Yes.” He made himself a fajita, waiting for her reaction.
“Wow. I had no idea. That’s like super difficult, right? I mean the training and selection.”
He wrapped his tortilla and looked up. “Nah, piece of cake.” He winked before taking a bite.
“Well, thank you for your service.”
He heard that a lot but coming from Charlie it meant more than anything. “Thank you.”
“How did you end up in the Navy after...” She trailed off.
Donnie drank some of his soda before answering.
“I was always set on being a cop like my dad. When I left, I kind of drifted for a while. I was lost. I knew I needed to do something, but I wasn’t sure being a cop was the right fit for me anymore. I wanted to push myself to my limit.”
In reality, he had been looking for a way to punish himself.
“I began researching the military and became fascinated by the SEALs. You’re right, the training was brutal. In the Navy, you have very little time to think about anything else. It was disciplined, hard, every minute accounted for. It was exactly what I needed.”
Charlie was quiet, pushing her salad around on her plate. Donnie made up another fajita and handed it to her.
“You’re right. They’re amazing. Please have one.”
She waved it off. “No. Thank you.”
“Come on. Just one.”
“Donnie, I have a wedding dress fitting when I get home. I need to be able to fit into it.”
“You’ll fit and you’ll look beautiful with or without this fajita.” He smiled, still holding it out. She was wavering.
“You’re not good for a girl’s diet.”
“You don’t need to be on a diet. You’re perfect exactly as you are.”
Her cheeks reddened again. He smiled. “Just one.”
She accepted it and took a bite of the long fajita, bringing an inappropriate erotic image to his mind.
Jesus. Since when does a woman eating a fajita become a turn on? Her small noise of appreciation went straight to his groin. Her hands held the tortilla as juice dripped out the bottom. Dragging his eyes away, he readjusted himself under the table, then reached for the salad, needing a distraction.
“What’s it like being a SEAL?”
He dared to look up, relieved she’d put down the fajita.
“I love it. I have the best team in the world. We’ve been together six years now, and we’re kind of a family. Brothers.”
“It must be scary sometimes, though? Dangerous?”
“It can be,” he said honestly. “But I have the very best people at my back.”
Charlie took another bite of the fajita and Donnie swallowed hard, averting his gaze while she ate.
“Do any of your team have their own families? I mean it must be tough. You travel for long periods, right?” she asked, after she’d finished her bite.