The house was empty when I got home, which didn’t surprise me. Neither did the army-issued footlocker sitting in the middle of my bed.
See, you’d think that my dad—being as proud as he was—would want to brag about his army days. That he would want to tell me stories about his time in Panama and the Gulf War. But he didn’t. He didn’t speak about it at all. Not to me and not to his small circle of friends. If he talked to other vets, I didn’t know about it. This was his way of talking to me. Maybe not to me as much as at me.
Normally, I’d just push it aside. Throw it under my bed and deal with it another day.
But today wasn’t like other days. After hanging out with Dean and the kids, something in me had switched. My decision about my future had always been about what I wanted versus what I thought I had to do. Now? I had no idea what I wanted.
“Fuck it,” I said under my breath, and sat on the edge of the bed, dragging the footlocker over so it was next to me. I unhinged the latch and lifted the heavy metal lid. His dress blues were folded perfectly at the bottom, his Bronze Star Medal still attached. He had never told me how he’d earned it, but then again, I’d never asked. On top of all of that was a letter-size envelope with the U.S. Army logo on the corner and a sticky note attached. September 30—MEPS, was all it said.
MEPS—Military Entrance Processing Station.
September 30—enlistment day.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Blake
I knocked on Chloe’s door. Mary answered and tried to contain her smile. “Blake, what are you doing here?”
All of a sudden, I panicked. It had seemed like the greatest idea in the world when I had thought of it. Now, though, I kind of felt like an ass. “I’m here to clean up your backyard.”
“What?” She let out a disbelieving laugh, just as the street filled with cars. The sound of doors opening and closing and the familiar ruckus of a group of teenage boys filled the otherwise quiet neighborhood.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and shrugged. “Well, me and the rest of my team . . . and the JV team.”
Her eyes widened as they all started to walk up her driveway. “What kind of teenage boy wants to spend his Sunday weeding a neglected yard?”
“A teenage boy whose coach ordered them to. Plus, it’s for extra credit.” I waited for her to give me the go-ahead, but she didn’t. Suddenly, I was nervous as fuck. Maybe I’d overstepped my boundaries. “I just thought the kids would like to have some extra space to play . . . It was stupid. I’m sorry.”
I turned to leave but she gripped my shirt. “No way,” she said. “You don’t get out of it that easy. Come in!”
My eyes kept wondering around, looking for any sign of Chloe. I didn’t want to ask Mary, because I wanted her to believe I wasn’t there for Chloe. My reasons for being there were genuine, but that didn’t mean that seeing her wouldn’t have been a bonus. We still worked together, but it hadn’t been the same since that night in her room. I still had no idea what had really happened, but I didn’t want to push it. I was more than happy with a little Chloe rather than no Chloe at all.
The boys and I worked in the yard for an hour before the sun started baking us. I’d sent out a few of the guys to get some drinks and ice and coolers, but I was dying. I didn’t want to disturb the family too much, so I quietly walked in through the back door to get a drink. Mary was already there, making a pitcher of iced tea. She smiled when she saw me. “Wash up. I’ll pour you a fresh glass.”
“You’re my hero,” I joked, looking around again.
“She’s up in her room. Hasn’t been down yet.”
I nodded; I was a little worried about her reaction to me being there.
Mary handed me the cold iced tea just as I turned the tap off. She gazed out the window and watched the rest of the guys at work. “Dean will be so happy when he gets home.”
“Yeah? He’s not gonna be mad?”
“Why would he be mad?”
I turned so my back was against the counter. “I just don’t want him to think that I’m doing his job or something.”
“Honey, Dean has a job. He works six days a week and provides for our family. So what if we don’t have the nicest house on the street?” She shrugged. “So what if he doesn’t spend his time away from that job weeding the yard? I could get a job. I’ve offered, but he doesn’t want me to. He says that being a mom, taking care of our family, that’s more than enough work. And when he has any spare time, he spends it with Chloe and the kids. It’s important to him that we do everything we can so that the kids know we’re here for them.” She took the glass from my hand, refilled it, and handed it back. “So no, Blake. He won’t be offended. He’ll be enormously thankful.”
“Good. Because I wanted to put this in the yard when it’s done . . .” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the page I had ripped out of the Toys “R” Us catalog. But before I could show her, Chloe walked in.
“Who the hell are all those guys in—” She froze midstep.
My eyes nearly fell out of my head.
She was wearing a white bikini top. Tiny shorts. Nothing else. She was even hotter than my imagination had given her credit for. She was tanned, which surprised me, because she didn’t seem to be the type to be out there working on her tan—or whatever the hell it was chicks did.
“What are you doing here?”
She had a mole on her right breast. It was tiny. Right above where the bikini covered. Then her arms blocked the view.
My eyes snapped to hers. I was staring at her tits. Holy shit.
Her face flushed red as she clamped her mouth shut, trying to hide her smile.
I cleared my throat. “Um.” That was all I could get out.
“He’s clearing the yard for us,” Mary answered for me.
“You and whose army?” she asked, smiling openly now.
Mary giggled. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”
I never took my eyes off Chloe. She watched Mary leave the room before stepping closer to me.
“Blake?”
“Uh?”
“I didn’t know you were coming today, I made plans with Clayton.”
I couldn’t stop staring at her breasts.
“Blake!”
My eyes snapped to hers, and I shook my head, clearing the thoughts that were running wild in my mind. And then I laughed, because I didn’t know what else to do. She was driving me insane. “It’s okay,” I told her. “You’d just be a distraction anyway. Go. Leave.”
She chuckled and walked away.
I stared at her ass.
“Holy shit,” I mumbled.
“Blake,” Mary said, walking back into the kitchen. “That’s kind of my daughter you’re drooling over.”
I wiped my mouth. My cheeks burned. “Sorry.”
She laughed.
I was glad she found it funny. My dick sure as shit didn’t.
Chloe
“I don’t think this is it, Chloe.”
I looked down at the picture in my hand. Mom and Aunt Tilly as teenagers, hanging out with their friends by a lake . . . or a river. The picture had faded and creased over the years, so it was hard to make out. “Yeah, I don’t think it is, either.” I tried to hide the sadness in my voice, but Clayton could always tell.
“I’m sorry,” he said, walking up the rocky embankment toward me. He pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around me.
“It’s okay,” I hugged him back and spoke into his chest. “I’ll just keep searching. We’ll find it next time.”
He squeezed me tighter. “You bring any food? I’m starving.”