Page 8 of Rescued by the Captain

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Camo.”

“That’s a lot of colors,” I say with a shake of my head, leading quickly to remembering that my head is still pounding.

The darkness in Donte’s eyes fades. “I like a lot of colors! How about you?”

I’m relieved by his soft smile. I feared that I’d ruined the mood by broaching a touchy subject, but he’s starting to ease up again.

“Red. Husker red,” I say confidently.

Donte’s eyes light up with curiosity. “As in the Nebraska Cornhuskers?”

“Yeah, I went to a game last year.” I pause. “I think. Weird.”

“Ask me another question.”

“Any kids?”

His smile falters. “No.” He rises from the couch quickly. “You hungry? I saw some frozen food in the freezer, I can heat something up.”

I’m concerned that I’ve messed up. But if he’s offering food, I can’t have screwed up too badly at Socializing 101 this time. “Sure. Any chance there’s some curry and naan in there?”

“Doubt it. Looked more like chili and cinnamon rolls.”

“That’s a Nebraska thing!”

“Then that’s what we’ll have, Ms. Nebraska.” He winks at me before striding to the kitchen. Left alone on the couch, I ponder if I am from Nebraska. Or maybe I’m from Colorado and went to college in Nebraska?

A long yawn comes on, twisting my mouth into a large cavern. All this memory-grasping is wearing me out. I move my Sudoku to the coffee table, and lay on my side.

“I’m going to take a quick nap.”

Donte spins to face me with a pot in hand. “Nope. You have to stay awake.”

“You know they don’t say that anymore because the brain needs time to rest and recover.”

“Interesting… Okay, ten minutes.”

“Thirty.” Countering is ballsy, since Donte is hulky enough to convince me to do anything. But sleepiness has got me feeling frisky.

“Twenty— final offer or I keep your ass awake.”

“Wow, you reallywerein the military. And how would you propose to keep my big ass awake.”

He glares at me. “Your ass isn’t big.”

“Some men think it is.”

Stubborn, he retorts, “I carried you. I know it’s not.”

The memory of being in his arms hits me. It was a safe place to be.

“Twenty minutes it is. Come wake me up when it’s time to rise and shine.”

He sends me a salute.

Satisfied that I’ve won the argument, I get up from the couch. It isn’t bad for napping, but if I want to make the most of these twenty minutes, I’ll want to find someplace that I can roll a few inches without worrying that I’ll fall splat on the floor.

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