Wrecked

Fishing was more successful than I thought it would be. I was only out for an hour before my lines started tugging. One after another, the fish bit. It was after five when I pulled back into the slip. Just enough time to get the fish off to the market, and I was pleased to see they were in desperate need for halibut and albacore, so I made serious coin right off the bat. I had just enough time to clean the blood off the back of the boat, and shower to be ready for when Celia comes over.

I’m wiping down the counters and checking to make sure the white wine I bought from the market is chilled enough when I hear a knock on the back deck. Smiling, I turn . . . then frown when I see Jenkins grinning with his broken smile of missing teeth.

Shit. He’s here for dinner. So much for my date night with Celia.

“You hungry, old man?” I pull a beer out of the fridge and notice Jenkins doesn’t have a bottle in his hand so I grab him one too and meet him out back.

“You bet.” He takes the offered beer and drinks about half in one gulp. “What’re we eating tonight?”

“Halibut.” I drop down to the padded bench and notice the sun is dipping below the line of boats in the marina. “We’re having company tonight.”

“Figured as much.” He takes another long swig.

“How’s that?”

“We’ve missed you at the Office.” His eyes dart to me and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s noticed I’m not hanging off Sydney.

I stare toward the parking lot, pushing back a flicker of guilt. “Been busy.”

“Busy . . . right. Celia’s gorgeous. You’d be stupid not to chase her tail.”

“You must’ve been around her before, what do you know about her?”

“Can’t say I know anything. I heard Cal talk about a Celia, but she never came down to the boat. I never talked to her until this last time.” He turns his foggy eye on me. “Better question is, what do you know about her?”

I shrug and notice my eyes keep drifting to the gate to the dock, anxious to see her again. “She’s smart, funny in a weird way. We have a good time together. She’s leaving in a couple weeks so we decided we’d hang out until she goes.”

He nods thoughtfully and stares out at the horizon.

“Don’t go silent on me now, Jenks. You always got shit to say about everything.”

“Find it interesting you don’t got any friends and far’s I know you don’t date, but you know this girl a few days and she’s your friend and your date.”

Excellent point, I’m kind curious about that shit too. Ever since I was released from the army, most people annoy the crap out of me. Women complain about their favorite shows being canceled or the fact that they had to sit in traffic for thirty minutes on their way to work. Men complain about not getting laid enough or the battery in their latest smartphone dying halfway through the baseball game they were watching.

The petty complaints of people who have never lived for fifteen months in a shitty hut with a couple dozen men, sleeping with their M4s on their chests because at any moment the enemy could open fire on their asses. The average American sits on their cushioned couch with a beer in hand, a hot home-cooked meal in the oven, and bitching to their sixty-inch flat screen about how much the government sucks, about how the country is going to hell in a scrotum sack while me and my men are over there jumping in front of bullets to protect the innocent, fighting the terrorists that have ravaged not only Americans but people all over the world.

They don’t know what it’s like to have to dig through dirt to find all the body parts of a brother who gave his life to save theirs. Collecting fingers and toes and half-legs, matching them up to send back to their wives and children in a fucking box. People bitch about getting their kids into the right schools while over there parents are burying headless children. So yeah, maybe I’m a little fucking intolerant.

“Fuck.” I grip my now empty bottle to my chest feeling that familiar static that’ll lead to anxiety, which will end in paranoia. That’s the shit that fucks me up. Perfect for a date night. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Jenkins nods. I can see he carries what happened in Nam around as clear as if I were staring at my own reflection. “She’s just a woman.”

Yeah, just a woman. She’s not a threat to me. She doesn’t know how fucked up I am and as far as I know she seems to enjoy being with me. Don’t read too much into this, Aden.

Suddenly antsy, I hop up and light the charcoal on the grill, trying to stay busy; it’s the best thing to do to keep my thoughts from taking my body back to Iraq.

The sweat.

Racing pulse.

Delusions.

Stabbing coals, my gaze is drawn back to the gate and this time they’re not met with disappointment.

“She’s here.” I move to the dock and hop off the boat, hearing Jenkins’s garbled chuckle as I make my way to the gate.

She’s wearing cutoff shorts and a sweatshirt, her hair pulled back off her face in one of those headband things. Casual, and perfect. I have an overwhelming urge to take her straight to bed and hold her close. What the fuck, Colt! Get it together!

“You made it.” I hit the button on the panel to release the lock and swing open the gate for her.

“You said sunset.” She smiles and I’m gone.

I pull her to me and melt around her tiny body, liking the way her arms wrap around my waist as she fits herself to my chest. I’m grateful to see she has a bag slung over her shoulder. I was worried she might change her mind about staying the night.

I slip the bag from her and release her just enough to throw my arm around and walk her down the dock to the boat. “You’re right on time.”

She tilts her head and looks up at me. “Did you have a successful fishing day?”

“I did. We’re having halibut.” I kiss the top of her head and her hair smells like fucking heaven. “Don’t worry, it’s vegetarian halibut.”

She giggles. “I told you, I eat meat.”

“There’s a dirty joke in there somewhere, but I’m staying away from it.”

She slaps my chest. “Oh my God, you’re disgusting.”

“I’m a man, freckles. You say ‘eat meat,’ my head goes to the best possible translation. Don’t blame me, blame my DNA.”

I straddle the boat and dock and lend her a hand, making sure she gets on board okay. She struggles a little, but seems a lot more confident this time around.

“Jenkins, you remember Celia.”

“I do, I’d stand to say hello but my knees are killin’ me today, honey.”

She smiles warmly at the old man. “No need. I’ll just come to you.” She leans in and wraps the crusty pirate in a hug.

His hand hovers over her ass and he waggles his eyebrows at me. “Sure wish I hadn’t wasted all those erections in my youth.”

“Jenks.” Dirty old man.

“Oh wow.” Celia pats him with a closed fist and pulls away. “Thank you . . . I think?”

“Don’t mind him.” I glare at the fucker as he coughs and laughs at his own joke. “Grab a seat. You like white wine?”

“Sure, sounds good.”

With one more warning look at Jenkins to behave I head back and toss her bag on my bed, then pour her a glass of wine while grabbing me and Jenkins another beer. Moving through the cabin back out to the deck my gaze snags on the purple bag on my bed. It’s surreal to think there will be a woman in my bed all night, not just for as long as it takes to get off. This isn’t some drunken hookup. It actually feels like we’re building something here.

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