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“I’ll text you,” I promise him.
We wave goodbye, and I lead Lucy down the sidewalk.
“You were in the military?” she asks.
“Yeah, I was a SEAL for the last eight years. I just got out.”
“What made you decide to leave? Were you injured?” she asks, looking over me with concern.
I nod, and her eyes turn soft. She has a tender heart beneath those layers of protection. I knew she was perfect. “I got shot and decided not to re-enlist,” I tell her as we pass by a pizza joint. She doesn’t look interested so we keep walking, past a Greek restaurant and then a Thai place.
“I’m so sorry,” she breathes out, squeezing my hand.
I shrug, not wanting to bring the mood down. Truthfully, it hurt like hell and the healing process was long and lonely. My oldest friend and brother-in-arms, Romeo, visited me when he could. I’d do the same for him in a heartbeat, but I’m glad I haven’t had to.
I can hardly remember the pain and how awful the healing was, though. Not with Lucy by my side. Every bad thing I’ve ever been through fades into the background whenever I’m around her. Even the nightmares of my time in combat ceased last night, and I know it’s because Lucy is in my life.
When we hit the Mexican restaurant, my girl licks her lips, so I stop and lead us inside.
“This place good?” I ask her, and she nods.
“Sure.”
“For two?” the hostess asks, her eyes scanning over me.
“Yep,” I answer, tightening my hold on Lucy.
I tug my girl closer to my side and smile down at her, making it obvious that I have no interest in anyone but my Lucy.
We’re led over to a table in the back and I pull out Lucy’s chair before I take my own seat across from her. The hostess has a sour look on her face as she passes us our menus and then heads back to the front.
“Have you been here before?” I ask Lucy.
She seems to have relaxed a bit, and I’m not sure if it’s because we’re starting to get to know each other or if seeing how I rejected the hostess has her starting to trust me more.
“We’ve ordered from here before,” Lucy says.
“Who’s we?” I ask.
“Me and my friends. Scarlett and Emilia,” she clarifies.
“Is it any good?”
“Yeah, their tacos and enchiladas are mind-blowing.”
She smiles as she studies the menu and I smile as I study her.
“Why did you decide to move here? Did you grow up nearby?” I ask her.
“Yeah, about an hour away.”
“You must like small towns then.”
“They’re cheaper,” she says with a self-deprecating laugh.
“That’s true. Some of the bases I was stationed at were in big cities and it was hard just to live.”
“Where all have you lived?” she asks me.
