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“What the hell, man?” Ronan called as he ran up to Dante’s side and matched his pace. “This isn’t a peaceful sightseeing jog down the beach. You need to run like your life depends on it. Or my life.”
Fuck you, sir.
But he didn’t dare say those words out loud. Instead, Dante charged forward and kicked up sand as he went. This wasn’t an official training exercise. He still had forty-eight hours before he reported for duty. But Ronan had agreed to run with him and help kick his ass into gear for when he returned to base.
“Did all that standing around, guarding a cute piece of ass—”
“Fuck you.” Yeah, this time he didn’t hold back. No, he stopped and turned to face his friend and teammate, fists raised and ready to fight.
Ronan jogged in place and raised his hands in the universal signal of surrender. “Relax, Dante. I’m just giving you the kind of shit the guys are going to dole out when you get back. And you know you need to turn around and walk away when they do.”
“No fucking way,” he shot back. “Would you just stand by and take it if Cade or Jack called your girl ‘a piece of ass’?”
“No, but I’ve made it clear that she’s not a one-week or even one-month distraction,” Ronan said as he turned and started running again.
Dante followed, matching the punishing pace. “Chrissie wasn’t just a distraction. I love her.”
“And yet you’re spending your last few days of medical leave running with me.” Ronan shook his head but didn’t slow down. “I’m sure your girl is feeling the love right now.”
“You heard that damn song.” Dante growled. The words he knew she’d written for him had played over and over on the radio. And to rub salt in the wound, they repeated a recording of her live acoustic performance in Vegas. “She’s tied to her music career, sleeping in a different city every night. And you know we’re going wheels up soon. I was on the base today, and I heard rumblings about Syria. Who knows how long we’ll be there? It’s not like their civil war will end tomorrow, the terrorists will move out, and everything will go back to being hunky-dory.”
“Be nice if it did,” Ronan said. “But yeah, I’d say that’s a fantasy.”
“Relationships take time. Hell, look what happened to my last one. All that waiting and worrying takes a toll. Never mind the fact that I can’t say a damn word about where I’ve been when I return. And if I can’t even see Chrissie when I’m back in the states?”
“Who says you can’t?” Ronan asked. “I’ve managed to see Cassie. She flies to San Diego when I’m here. And we keep in touch. Email, letters. You know Jack and Cade do the same. Jack wrote to Natalie every day on our last deployment and the one before that. He’s probably penned a book by this point.”
“But…” Dante panted, pushing himself to run faster. Because dammit, Ronan wasn’t even breathing hard.
“But this is about your ex, isn’t it?”
“I loved her,” Dante ground out. “I gave her everything I had to give. And still our marriage broke. We stopped talking about damn near everything. And after that, her loyalty went down the drain.”
He’d spent a lot of time looking at how “till death do us part” had turned into “till I start screwing the plumber.” And yeah, that particular trip down memory lane had always left him bitter. He’d felt like a failure, incompetent when it came to love and happily ever after. But now? Looking at the past made him sad. Still, there was also a sense of relief that it was in the past. And maybe the sense of hope that he could make different choices this time. That Chrissie wasn’t his ex, and happily ever after could be his—theirs—if he had the balls to claim it.
“Stop,” Ronan barked.
Dante planted his boots in the sand, placed his hands on his knees, and glanced up at the friend and teammate who outranked him. “What the hell, man?” Dante said. “I was finally hitting my stride and you—”
“Do you trust Chrissie?” the redheaded SEAL demanded. With his hands on his hips, wearing camo pants and black steel-toed boots that matched Dante’s, Ronan looked every inch a Navy SEAL officer.
“Yes, sir.” The words slipped out. And Dante realized he didn’t have to give it a second thought. He had faith in Chrissie. No internal debate needed.
Ronan raised his eyebrows. “You believe she won’t cheat on you? How can you be sure?”
“You don’t get it,” he said. “She’s different from my ex. Chrissie understands my call to serve. Hell, listen to her lyrics, man. It’s part of what she likes about me.”
“A lot of women like SEALs,” Ronan challenged. “They’re drawn to the idea of the superman. They want to be the one to bed the hero.”
“Not Chrissie.” Dante stood tall and faced his friend. “I mean she likes the SEAL stuff. In the beginning, she wanted SEAL lessons.”
“Spare me the details,” Ronan said dryly.
“Self-defense lessons,” Dante said, and he was about to call his teammate out for his dirty mind. But looking back on where those lessons had ended up, and yeah, best to leave that one alone.
“Sure, Dante. But do me a favor and don’t mention your ‘SEAL lessons’ to the guys. I don’t want to hear about the young newbies hitting up the local bar and offering special SEAL sessions to the women.”
He wouldn’t breath a word to anyone. But still, he wanted Ronan to understand. “Chrissie respects what we do, man. And she gets why I want to serve my country not just for a few years, but as long as I can. She understands me in a way… Hell, I never thought a woman would accept my drive to be in the Navy. But she does.”
