Page 17 of Grunt: A Marine Romance

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A LOUD RAPat her bedroom door roused Selena from her dreams.

“Sel, we need to get a move on. Are you awake?”

Hearing Bret’s voice first thing in the morning was a welcome surprise. “Yeah, sorry. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

She rolled onto her back, and closed her eyes. Last night, she’d dreamt about Bret. Over the years, he’d been the star of many of her dreams. But this dream was different. They were dancing, together, after all these years. He lacked Dima’s speed and technical skill, but Bret’s dancing had something that Dima’s didn’t—emotion. Real emotion, not the fake, flashy, showy moves Dima and Selena were known for. Bret had always danced from his heart.

She crawled out of bed, and stepped onto the ice-cold marble tile. A quick shower, and they’d embark on the rest of today’s journey.

SELENA EMERGEDFROM her bedroom and poured herself a cup of coffee. Her nostrils tingled, and when she took a sip, the warm liquid soothed her throat.

Once she could focus, her eyes fell on Bret, who sat at her coffee table reading a book. Banjo lay by his feet. The sight of him, relaxed and comfortable in her house, threw her. Had she made a different choice, this could be the setting of her daily life. Bret making her coffee, reading before he headed to work. Maybe getting the kids ready for school. Her gut clenched.

“What are you reading?”

Bret glanced up at her. “Oh, just some war book.” He closed the cover. “You ready? We really need to get going.”

“Yeah. Let me finish my coffee and we can bounce. Where are you staying up there?”

“My dad bought a houseboat in Sausalito. He lives with his new wife up in Washington, so he said I can stay there while I train.”

“How cool! I’ve always wanted to live on a houseboat. To have the ocean rock me to sleep. I used to babysit for a family who lived on one.”

Bret stood up and took the keys out of his pocket. “It beats staying in a hotel. Hotels remind me of the barracks. Let’s get a move on.”

Selena made her way to the sink to rinse her coffee cup out. An engine hummed outside the window. That’s weird—the gardeners weren’t supposed to come until Tuesday. She peeked out the kitchen window. A bright yellow taxi stood out front.

The front door opened. “Selenichka!” Banjo barked and scampered out of the kitchen.

Selena dropped her coffee mug. The ceramic shattered on the floor, and Bret and Selena stared at the little shards, stunned.

Dima walked into the kitchen. His mouth opened when he saw Bret crouched on the floor with Selena, gathering the pieces of the mug.

“What’s going on here? I call and text to you all the night. Benny gave me name of hotel and they said that you did not go to there.”

Uh oh. Selena had seen the texts, and she’d intended to text him back, but she just had been so exhausted. Selena could see Bret staring at the house key Dima was holding. Another item that made it look like she and Dima were still together. Who could blame Bret for thinking that? She grabbed the dustpan under the sink. “Dimka, I’m sorry. It was just so late . . .”

Bret reached out his hand to Dima. “Hey, Dima. Sorry about that, it’s my fault. We were supposed to drive all night but I was tired so Selena said I could stay in the guesthouse. You guys danced great last night.”

Selena knew that Dima would never settle for a handshake. Dima probably still saw Bret as his little disciple. He embraced his old student. “Bret, great to see you, my friend! I thought you go to the war?”

Selena breathed a sigh of relief as she swept up the ceramic shards. Dima stood with his shoulders relaxed and his feet wide apart. She wondered if Dima even felt a pang of jealousy knowing that Bret spent the night in her house. Even though they weren’t together, deep down Selena always thought that Dima figured she would take him back at anytime. And maybe that had been true—before Bret showed up and made Selena reminisce her first love.

Bret pulled back from the hug. “I did go to war. But I’m back now. Just doing a season to raise money for my friend’s family. He was killed in Iraq.”

Dima seemed impressed by Bret’s selflessness. He sat at the table and poured himself a cup of coffee. “This friend of yours. How much money does his family need? I could give to you now. Selena and me, we would love to help.”

There Dima went again—flaunting his money around. Maybe he thought he could buy Bret off, so he wouldn’t have to worry about Selena getting close to Bret.

Bret shook his head. “Thanks Dima, I really appreciate your offer but I need to do this on my own. I’d love to stay but we really need to get on the road.”

“Sure, it is no problem.” Dima eyed Selena. She sat back at the table next to Dima, who took her hand.

“Sel, I’m gonna take Banjo outside. We have to leave in five minutes. Dima, it was great seeing you again.” Bret headed toward the front door and Selena heard the door shut.

“Sorry, Dima. Bret won this truck and Benny said—”