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“Well, that’s a load of crap!” I yelled. “And don’t tell me to watch my language. You’re a Marine. Your life is dangerous. Of course something can happen to you. Am I at least your emergency contact?”
“Emergency contact?” He sat up and leaned against the headboard.
“If I have to hear about your demise from your parents,” I waved my hands in the air. “I’m going to freak the fuck out.”
Ricky chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” I squeaked. “Stop laughing. It’s not funny.” I backhanded him on the chest.
He sobered up quick.
“I’m not laughing at you.” He held my hand to his heart. “I was just thinking about something your brother told me.”
“What did he say?”
“If two men in full dress uniform came to your door to tell you I’m dead. He would freak the fuck out.” It sounded like Bishop. “He didn’t want you to be a military wife. He didn’t want you to worry if I’d come home or not. I didn’t agree with it, but I respected it.”
I scooted back and leaned against his chest.
“I worry anyway.” I shrugged.
He kissed the top of my head and the warmth spread throughout my body. I drummed my fingers across his chest.
“I just wish.” I frowned.
“Wish what?”
“I wish we could go on a date or something like that.” I looked up at him. “We’ve never been on a date.”
“You want to go on a date, huh?” He kissed me again. “Okay, get dressed.” He hopped out of bed. “Let’s go.”
* * *
I followed Ricky down the hall and into the elevator. I wore my black dress with one of his button-down shirts over it and bare feet. I looked a fright. My hair pulled back into a frizzy mess. My lips were swollen, my eyes drooped, but with a glint of excitement in anticipation of our pending adventure.
We had no transportation and weren’t dressed to be seen in public. It was the middle of the night. I had no doubt he would pull something epic off regardless.
The elevator opened in the lobby. I jogged to keep up with his wide steps.
“Stay right here.” We stopped at the hotel entrance. The front desk was empty. A television played through the open door to an office behind the reception desk. Ricky knocked and strolled in. I heard muffled sounds and the clink of keys and the rustling of papers.
He walked back out shaking them. He had a plastic bag in his hand and a blanket draped over his other arm. He charmed the keys off the overnight receptionist. I shook my head. He reached out his hand and I took it. He pressed a button on the key fob and a horn honked and taillights flashed on a pickup truck to our left. He stopped before stepping off the sidewalk and stooped in front of me. “Hop on.”
I grabbed his shoulders and jumped. He caught me with his hands under my knees. He strolled to the car with me on his back. It had been years since he’d given me a piggyback ride.
I giggled and held him tight. He opened the truck door and turned and sat me on the front seat. I scooted into the seat. He reached over and buckled my seat belt.
“Where are we going?” He kissed me and winked before shutting the door and running around the back of the pickup.
He slid in with an evil grin playing at the corner of his lips. The lamppost illuminated the parking lot, but beyond it was pitch-black. He started the car and country music blared from the radio. We both reached for it at the same time. Despite both being from Texas, we hated country music.
He put the truck in gear and backed out.
I found an R&B station and we slow jammed out of the parking lot. We drove down the long winding driveway. He turned left once he got to the main road and headed away from town. I rolled down the window and breathed in the fresh air. I turned the music up louder and sang along as the wind whipped my hair more. Ricky placed his hand on my thigh and squeezed. His touch sparked an intense flutter between my legs. My heart skipped a beat. I placed my hand over his and interlaced our fingers.
It felt real. Like we were lovers on a country road going on a date. We drove in silence for fifteen minutes. No other car was in sight. In another few minutes, we pulled off the main road and onto a gravel road. We stopped at a gate with a keypad box. Ricky punched in a code. The gate squeaked as it swung open.
I looked over the trees, trying to find a recognizable landmark. If possible, it seemed darker out here. I gripped Ricky’s forearm. His eyes were glued to the road. He seemed to know where he was going. The road grew bumpy. We lurched in the cab and then the road smoothed out to a paved road. We came up an incline and at the top, we stopped. The lights of Houston proper appeared in the distance.
