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“No, that’s just a TV show, and I think it’s Sergeant Brody, and not Brady. But I am a military guy.”
“Military?” I ask with a smile. I sit down the watering can and cross my arms under my breasts, making sure they sit up high on top of my arms. “Where have you been?”
He raises his arms up again and rubs the back of his head uneasily. He looks away for a second and I take in the way his arm flexes as he stretches. His chest is smooth and there is a not one hair on his whole torso. I trace his body all the way down with my eyes, past his sculpted abs, and to the small trail of hair that disappears beneath the waistband of his boxers. My mouth goes dry as I imagine what lies beneath.
“Afghanistan, Iraq, and other countries that I can’t disclose,” he says, chuckling slightly. He returns his eyes to me, humor framing his eyes.
I liked seeing this slightly gentler side of him, and smile back while shading my eyes from the sun.
“Oh okay, are they like top secret or something?” I ask, raising my eyebrow playfully.
He chuckles again. “Something like that. So what’s your story, Susie?”
I smile coquettishly.
“Nuh uh, you’re not turning the conversation away from yourself so fast. But as for me, I’ve lived in Remford my whole life. I’m only child, and it’s nothing special. I’m going to be a senior soon, and I’m looking forward to college. Pretty boring compared to you, Mr. Military Man. I’m assuming there are stories behind all of these tattoos of yours?” I ask archly, nodding to his chest.
I watch his breathing change as he takes a step back from me. He looks down and I see him tense up again.
“Uh yeah. Nothing I want to really get into at the moment,” he says in a terse voice.
Then, Brady looks off into the distance and I suddenly feel very childlike. This is not how I expected this to go at all. But then of course, what did you expect? I just told him I was still in high school. Brady doesn’t want to go to jail, although I just turned 18 so it’s actually legal. Maybe I should mention my age, I think to myself.
I open my mouth to speak when he breaks the silence. “Yeah I’m actually headed back to Afghanistan in a couple of days.”
I close my mouth, stunned. My eyes grow big with disappointment. My shoulders slump and my head drops.
“Oh really? But you just moved in?” I ask with confusion.
He shrugs. “Yeah it sucks, but that’s how the American government works. Besides, I’ll only be gone for fifteen months. I’m keeping the house. You could help look after it for me. You know, make sure Mr. Joe down the street doesn’t chuck an ankle weight through the window during one of his walks.” We laugh together and it’s nice actually. This guy really does have a sense of humor.
I nod, smiling. “I can definitely do that. I don’t trust any man that wears shorts that tight. Plus, he looks to be about seventy, which makes it really weird.”
Brady laughs a little harder and makes a check mark motion.
“Okay, so Susie from next door hates tight shorts. Got it. I won’t be doing that then.”
I laugh along with him. “Well, on that age and body type, it doesn’t seem right. But I don’t mind them on myself,” I say flirtatiously, turning to the side and playfully patting my butt. “What do you think?”
An intense look flashes across the soldier’s handsome face. He slightly bites his lip and then looks at the ground. It’s a moment before he says anything. But when he does, his voice is normal.
“Agreed. There’s a weight and age limit for sure for those shorts.” He chuckles again and then looks at me. The blue of his eyes sear me, and I shiver at its intensity.
“Um, I know this may be a bit forward since we just met. But I’m a huge supporter of the armed services, and wouldn’t mind sending you care packages while you’re deployed? Would that be something you’d be interested in?” I ask hesitantly. “Of course, you can say no. It’s no problem.”
He stares at me for a beat before nodding slowly.
“No, I couldn’t ask you to do something like that. We just met and I feel like that would be a huge burden.”
I bounce up and down slightly, pleading with my eyes.
“No, it’s no trouble at all,” I say. “It’s just some cookies and other baked goods. It’s no big deal, I promise. The Junior League actually works with a lot of veterans’ groups, so I know how much the cookies are appreciated when a soldier is far from home.”
Brady looks away again, still shaking his head no. Boldly, I reach out across the fence and touch his warm, sweaty, muscular arm. He tenses up like he’s going to back away from my touch. Then he relaxes and looks me in the eye. After a couple of second of silence, he gives in.
