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“Set it up so you just happen to bump into each other and introduce him casually like ‘Oh, this is my buddy, Christian Ortiz,’” Lou suggested. “Then just stand there like a dumbass, which is where your skills really come into play, and wait for her to tell him her name herself. Boom, you’re in business.”

Ortiz had demanded a FaceTime introduction to Lou after the smoothie debacle, and before I knew it, she was helping his sister plan a baby shower for Marisol.

“If you forget it again, at least you know he won’t.”

Could work. When it came to harebrained plans and nefarious plots, Lou seemed to be in her element.

Name notwithstanding, I actually did listen when Jane Doe talked in class. A third-year nursing student, recently transferred from Connecticut, she’d taken a gap year between high school and college to travel, so she was younger than I was, but not by much. Fellow eldest sibling and unrepentant Horse Girl, both of which boded well for my dick.

She wore her wavy brown hair parted on one side, cut so short that it barely reached her jawline. I’d never been a neck guy, but hers was oddly sexy. With her pretty pale skin and big blue eyes, I was hopeful she’d look hot when she came and be too proper to want more from me.

I didn’t mind being fetishized a bit as a Marine. I’d gotten plenty of moto boners in my time, so I understood the appeal, but it was wild to discover how many women harbored detailed fantasies of WWII heroes in uniform, arriving home from war, hungry for homemade pot roast and homegrown pussy. Didn’t hurt that every fifties housewife looked good on her knees.

Me mam, boy. Have some shame!

It was easy to romanticize military relationships, but I’d watched too many fail to be anything but cynical myself. My CO always reminded us that broken hearts impacted troop readiness, and as stupid as that sounded, I owed it to my brothers to show up with my head in the game.

I texted Ortiz to help a guy out and passed her a note.

CAN I TAKE YOU OUT AFTER YOUR SHIFT TONIGHT?

[] YES [] OKAY [] FINE

She read the note with a coy smile on her lips before writing something down and folding it back up. Then she leaned over, biting the corner of her bottom lip, and tucked it into the pocket on my shirt before meeting my eyes. Hot as fuck. A gorgeous woman with her tits resting on my forearm who wanted my mouth on her would definitely drown out the whispers of some unavailable woman I’d never even met in person.

I knew Jane Doe worked at the hospital daycare downtown, so I offered to pick up the check if Ortiz and Marisol just happened to also be at the diner a couple of blocks away just after seven. I just hoped she wasn’t vegan or anything, because everything on the menu had meat, butter, or cheese.

Ah, is it just grass they’re after now? We didn’t survive the famine for this, lad.

“I don’t think I mentioned that I’m vegan,” she told me when I held the door open with my hand on the small of her back to usher her through the exit. “I hope that isn’t an issue.” Goddamnit, of course she is.

“Not a problem,” I lied. “You have a favorite dinner spot around here, or should I take you for a drink first?” I frantically texted Christian as we continued toward the diner.

Ortiz

Got you

Just as we were rounding the corner to pass the diner, Ortiz stumbled out onto the street, pulling along his confused wife.

“What the hell, Christian!’’ she gritted out just before she caught sight of me, wide-eyed and panicked. She narrowed her eyes and looked between her husband and me.

“Christian! What are you doing here?” I said. I fought the urge to just keep walking—I was a horrible actor. Could I fuck her without knowing her name?

But Ortiz was worse. “Oh, we uh…” He gestured to the diner’s storefront. “But then we… didn’t?” His voice rose at the end like a jackass.

“Ay, Dios mío,” Marisol mumbled.

“Babe, this is Christian and Marisol Ortiz.” I cringed at the stress-induced pet name.

That’s bold now—callin’ her ‘babe’ in front of us.

“They just moved back.”

The silence that followed was painful. Marisol rolled her eyes, muttering “pendejos” under her breath, but she came to our rescue. She held her hand out to my date with a smile. “I’m Marisol, what’s your name?”

I attempted to act surprised and embarrassed at my poor manners, but I overplayed it, entirely over the top. Christian scrunched his nose.

“Nathalie. Nice to meet you both!” Nathalie replied. Mission accomplished!