Page 18 of Knot Innocent

The waitress delivers my beer, saving me from having to answer right away. When she leaves, and I still don’t volunteer any information, Jackson leans forward and presses. “Oh, come on. Don’t leave me hanging. Last time we talked, there wasn’t a woman anywhere on your radar.”

“There still isn’t. Not like you’re thinking.”

“Not sure I’m buying that,” my friend sneers. “This is the first time I’ve heard you talk about any woman. She must be something special if her influence delivered you here.”

Scoffing at the allegation, I picture Birdie. Special? Maybe. Trouble? Almost certainly. “What the woman is, is the Death of Peace of Mind.”

Jackson laughs. “I believe you’d say that about Mother Theresa. Who is she? How did you meet? Anybody I would know?”

I cut my eyes away, not wanting to answer. By now, I’m wishing I hadn’t spoken at all. In a rare moment of self-restraint, Jackson says, “Hey, you don’t have to tell me. It’s enough that you’ve decided to join the living.”

Jackson tips his beer to me and takes a long swig. That’s when I caught onto what he said. “Wait. No. I’m not getting involved with any woman, given my history.”

“Oh, don’t start that shit again.” Jackson’s mouth turns down, and he whisper-yells, “Look. I get it. Your dad was a supreme asshole. What he was has nothing to do with you except maybe your blood type.”

I drain the rest of my beer and slam the empty bottle down on the worn tabletop. “Right. Nothing like him at all. I’m so laid back and accommodating. That’s why I’m still a SEAL.”

“Stop it,” Jackson growls. “You know damn well the only reason you’re out is that the Navy wanted to handle that bastard’s sexual harassment case quietly. Knocking his ass out—while warranted—was the opposite of quiet.”

“Look. I didn’t come up here to rehash past shit, be it from the Navy or at Knot Corp.” I prop my elbows on the table and swipe a hand over my jaw.

“Then why did you come?” Jackson asks.

“I—” My head falls forward, and my hands clasp behind my neck. “Hell if I know.”

I pull off my cap and sit back up. “Everything about this woman is messing with me. A few weeks ago, she did something nice for me, and purely by chance, I just saved her from some prick near my house.”

“Um… I’m not seeing the problem here unless the prick has some legal claim on her.”

“No. She didn’t know him, or so she says. The circumstances were sketchy, and she wouldn’t talk about it. Nobody knows what she was doing there. Not even her best friend. Bir… um… she had disguised her appearance, making me think something dark was going on.”

Now, it’s Jackson’s turn to look dumbfounded. “Let me get this straight. You have suspicions about the woman you’ve got the hots for.”

“Hey, I never said I—” I picture Birdie’s sweet, innocent face and nearly groan. “Shit. Yes.”

Jackson clamps a hand on my shoulder. “Damn. What are you going to do?”

I turn my head to look his way and sigh. “I don’t know.”

We order another round and move to safer topics, and an hour later, I’m walking back into my house. I’m glad I went tonight. After the initial awkwardness, it felt good to be around sailors again. Several I knew came in, intermittently joining us, and I actually laughed a little. Of course, that’ll only make tomorrow suck worse when I don’t drive to Little Creek for work.

I said so to the group, and one of the guys pointed out that my ass could walk through those barroom doors whenever I wanted.

He was right. My career may be different, but I’m still here. My team may have changed, but that wasn’t the first time. I guess there’s no real reason to avoid memories of my SEAL career. Maybe I should meet up with the old team after all. It’ll finally get Jackson off my back, anyway.

Morning comes easy after a decent night’s sleep. Instead of having to talk myself up, I’m out of bed in a hurry, showered, and ready to go in record time. I arrive at work early and run into my team co-leader in the Knot Corp parking lot. Grinning to myself, I surprise Chelsea by speaking. “Morning, Yeet.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch her stop and rear back in shock. I almost smile but keep moving. Hurried steps catch up to me, and she stares at my profile as we walk.

Chelsea opens and closes her mouth several times before any words come out. “I want to kick your ass for calling me that, but I’m too shocked that you even spoke it. Did you get laid last night or something?”

Chelsea looks down and counts on her fingers some imaginary criteria. “No, that can’t be it. That’s the first time you’ve done something so… ‘not-Bash’ in the past eighteen months. I have to assume you’ve gotten some ass at least a few times, which means something else has you feeling playful.”

Her choice of words halts me. “Playful?”

Chelsea tilts her head and rocks her hand in the universal symbol for iffy. “Playful for a rabid grizzly bear. So, what was it? Did you get a personality transplant?”

I cut my eyes to her and bite my tongue, making Chelsea grin. “There he is. There’s my friend that I lost for a minute.”

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