The flare of heat in his eyes was proof of that, but it was accompanied by disbelief as he glanced over at the crowded kitchen table before giving her a Seriously? look. She also could see that he was actually doing the math equation in his head. If they snuck out now to rendezvous in his garage, could they be back inside before anyone even knew they were missing…?
But then, as he realized she had been only kidding, Shay could see his amusement and chagrin, along with that ever-present slow burn.
“Sorry,” she murmured, at a level for his ears only. “I couldn’t resist. We’ll have to somehow stay strong.”
Peter laughed as he moved in to put his arms around her, and everyone at the table looked up and over. At them.
So he backed up and pointed to the door instead. “I have, um, a, uh…question about the fence,” he said loudly. “If you don’t mind stepping outside…?”
Shay followed him out into the backyard. “You know, that fooled no one.”
“Yeah,” he said, finally pulling her in for that embrace. She wrapped her arms around his waist and enjoyed the feel of him, solid against her. “I’m sorry about before.”
“That’s okay,” she said. Was it love at first sight? “You kind of had to, you know, say what you said. I mean, Frankie was in your face.”
Peter pulled back to look down at her. “I was talking about tackling you.”
“Oh,” she said. Oops. “Well, I’d tell you that you can make it up to me by kissing my scrapes and bruises, but that’s not going to happen with our current cast of thousands.”
Peter smiled. “Safety over sex.”
“Is that, like, another Navy SEAL slogan?” she asked.
He laughed and then kissed her. Briefly. Sweetly. “You know, sadly, it might be.”
And now they were both smiling at each other.
He came back to earth first. “Any word from Adam?” he asked.
Shayla checked her phone, pulling it from her pocket. Adam was still at the hospital, with Daryl. “Just that No change text that I told you about. It’s only been ten minutes.”
Peter sighed. “Sorry. Still nothing from Maddie?”
“Not yet. She’ll contact us. I know it. Just give her time.”
He nodded.
“You know, your friends are amazing,” Shayla told him.
“Teammates,” he corrected her.
Did he honestly think…? “Lindsey’s not a teammate.”
“She’s a teammate by marriage,” Peter said. “And yeah, everyone’s really stepping up. They are great. And speaking of the Team, I’m sorry, but I have to go over to the base. I won’t be long, but I really need to do a face-to-face with my CO. Are you gonna be okay here?”
“You know it,” she said. “If trouble shows up, Hiroko will kick everyone’s ass.”
He laughed and kissed her again. “With her sidekick, Tiffany.”
Shayla laughed, too. “We’re good here. We’re safe. We’re in extra-safety mode. You know how I know?”
“Oh, yeah.” He nodded, his eyes doing that sparkling thing she’d loved right from the start. “Because no one’s getting any.”
“That’s right. Safety over sex. Hoo-yah! Isn’t that also what you SEALs say?”
“Hoo-yah,” he agreed as he followed Shay back inside. “Yeah. But generally not about…that.”
Dingo had put his foam mattress under the picnic table so that Maddie could curl up there, in the improvised shade, in the otherwise relentlessly barren Manzanar National Historic Site parking lot—and she’d fallen fast asleep.
He sat in the passenger seat of his car with all the doors opened wide, and he watched her for a while. People generally looked younger while they slept, and she was not an exception to that rule.
She looked maybe twelve.
Which wasn’t that much younger than the fifteen that she really was. And yeah, yeah, Juliet was fourteen or whatever, but back in Shakespeare’s day, thirty was considered old age. Also, Romeo wasn’t twenty.
Or a loser whose parents had kicked him out.
He reached for her phone—she’d shut it off and stashed it in the cupholder—and as he watched her gently breathing, he turned it on.
He knew her screen lock code—4242—not that she’d shared it, but she certainly hadn’t tried to hide it from him, either. And as the phone powered up, he both silenced it and covered it. He had no intention of looking through her personal messages—she’d gotten about a billion texts since she’d shut the thing off. He had one goal here: open up a line of communication to Maddie’s dad.
He sent a text. Not to her father, but to her father’s girlfriend. Shayla. Can we set up a time and place to meet and talk? Not just dad, but you, too?
He didn’t know Maddie’s dad aside from that one encounter in the mall garage, but his own father was way less of a douche when his mother was around. Having Shayla present could well make it easier for Maddie. At least he hoped so. He pushed send, and the text whooshed away.
The response came back almost immediately.
Yes! Say when and where, and we’ll be there!
Dingo looked at Maddie, still sound asleep beneath that table, and he almost typed Now, in Manzanar, but he wasn’t quite ready to betray her that absolutely. And she would see this as a betrayal.
So instead he input both the number for Shayla and the number for “Dad” into his own phone. Just in case, after getting some rest, Maddie failed to recognize that the time had come for a full surrender.
And then he typed, Too tired to talk right now. Will text tomorrow w location. Still safe.
After he hit send, he turned Maddie’s phone off and put it back into the cupholder. Then he, too, closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Pete’s meeting at the base went about as well as could be expected, considering he’d been informing his CO that he was considering resigning his commission. Maddie needed her father, and this temporary leave he’d arranged was almost up.
Commander Koehl had immediately offered to extend it. The Navy didn’t want to lose Pete.
Likewise, Pete didn’t want to lose the Navy. But if he was going to quit, he didn’t want it to be a surprise to anyone on the Teams.
For now, he gratefully took the extension, but he also took an envelope of paperwork—forms to fill out—should he need to resign, God help him.
He pulled his truck into his own driveway, tucked the envelope into the pocket on the door, gathered up his cover and—clicking his truck locked—headed across the street to Shayla’s house.
The windows were open—it was a beautiful afternoon. Pete stopped for a moment, just absorbing the sounds of life—music and laughter—spilling out of Shay’s little house. Food was cooking. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious.
Someone was singing some top-forty pop song. Had to be Frank, and maybe Tevin, and…Hiroko?
Holy shit, Hiroko was singing a Katy Perry song, along with…Wait. Was that Mrs. Quinn…?
But before Pete could laugh at the absurdity, the thought popped into his head: Maybe she was lonely, too.
Lonely. Too. As in, also lonely. As in, how absolutely different would it be for him to come home to this every day, instead of a cold, empty room in the officers’ barracks?