Page 10 of Smith

“They totally are,” I confirmed. “I’m a trash man or an ATM repairman spiel is a dead giveaway. That is, if the Suunto watch or the coyote Solomons don’t announce it first. But really, it’s how you all carry yourselves that announce your presence.”

“You all?”

I chanced a look in the mirror and sure enough the Tesla was still back there in the distance.

Damn.

“See, you’re old school,” I told him. “No Suunto for you. But the beat up G-Shock on your wrist says it’s seen some action. I’d guess it’s a tried and true throwback from your time in the Teams. The Oakleys were also a giveaway. And you’re a number, by the way.”

Smith’s answering chuckle did crazy things to my insides. If I wasn’t currently involved in a non-high speed chase with a Tesla I would contemplate what it was about Smith that was so intriguing. It was more than his good looks, though he was hot assin. It was more than the quick back-and-forth banter that came easy. And it was more than his flirtatious demeanor, though I totally dug that, too. It was something more but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Should I be offended? The way you say number makes me think we’re a step down from DevGru.”

Busted.

Though, I knew that wasn’t a slip. If he didn’t want to confirm I was right, he wouldn’t have.

“Not at all. Color, number, all of you are badass.”

“I’m curious, why do you think I was a number?”

Now I’d stepped in it and I couldn’t explain without sinking knee deep so instead of answering I asked my own question.

“Why’d you leave?”

“How do you know I didn’t retire?”

“You’re not old enough to do a full twenty. Spit it out, Sailor, why’d you leave?”

“Now, darlin’, that’s more like a third date question,” he quipped.

Which made me wonder what a date with Smith would be like.

“Is this when you explain to me the difference between your personal life and private life?”

“Damn, baby, I think I’m in love,” he drawled.

I knew the comment was a throwaway meant in jest but damn if that didn’t give me a shiver, especially him calling me ‘baby’.

“And here I thought it’d take more than that to have you worshiping at the altar that is me. Who knew you’d be so easy?”

Smith easily steered the conversation to my time in Japan. Then moved to where I went to college. He asked questions, I answered, he gave nothing more away about himself. Not surprising and I didn’t push for personal information. I knewmy way around a Sailor—in a strictly friendly way. I grew up surrounded by tight-lipped men who either didn’t want to talk about their service or couldn’t. So as disappointed as I was, I took no offense.

This lasted until I crossed the Maryland state line.

“I think he’s exiting,” I told Smith and slowed down. “The exit said Cecilton. You know, the exit with the weigh station.”

“All right. I’m less than ten miles from you waiting in the turnaround.”

301 was a divided highway with a grass median in the center of the North–South lanes. Knowing that Smith was waiting for me made me feel better than the Tesla pulling off the highway.

Almost there.

“Sorry I kept you?—”

“You apologizing tells me you haven’t enjoyed the conversation as much as I have.”

He sounded like he was being sincere, which was dangerous for my heart.

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