Page 68 of Better Late Than Never

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s stupid that it’s a criminal offense to begin with, but if it’s consensual? Fuck that noise.”

“Right? It’s none of the military’s goddamned business, but I mean”—he gave a bitter laugh—“when has that ever stopped them?”

I grunted. “No kidding.” As I thought about that, my heart sank a little. “That goes for us too, you know. Are you sure you’re still onboard with what we’re doing? It’s not criminal, but the Article 134 isn’t fun either.”

I instantly hated myself for even bringing it up.

Way to go, Alex. Give him a reason to lock the door behind me when I leave and never do this again.

Connor clasped our hands together and kissed the back of mine. “I’m still onboard. I think Aimee and I were kind of spooked about the whole non-monogamy thing, so potential adultery charges were just a tipping point to make us nix it. What we’re doing, though—I’m in.”

I had no business being this relieved, but I was.

He must’ve seen my lingering concern because he slid closer and kissed me softly. “We’ll be fine. If you’re not comfortable with it, I’ll understand, but I know the risk, and I know we’re taking every commonsense precaution we can.” He brushed his lips over mine again. “I’m still in if you are.”

“I’m still in.” I gently freed my hand and curved it behind his head. “Especially if you’re going to fuck me like that again.”

Connor’s laugh was a warm gust across my lips. “Any time you want.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Please do.”

CHAPTER21

CONNOR

Though Alex and I couldn’t spend as much time together as we would’ve liked, we did the best we could. We also made good on our decision to explore Spain together. Whenever we had a free weekend, we’d take off somewhere—Málaga, Toledo, some towns I’d never heard of. The day we spent exploring the Alhambra was utterly incredible (and I couldn’t complain about how we spent the following night, either).

We also took advantage of the late sunsets to take some short day trips after work. We couldn’t risk exploring places like El Puerto, Cádiz, or even Jerez together because noteveryAmerican stayed on-base. There was too much opportunity to be seen by someone we knew.

If we drove a little farther, though? Nobody.

I’d seen photos of Setenil de las Bodegas, the town built under the rocky overhang of a giant cliff, and that turned out to be about ninety minutes away. Nearby was Ronda, which still had an enormous and impressive Roman bridge. There was also the tiny hilltop town of Arcos de la Frontera, and we found some cool churches as well as ruins from the Moorish, Roman, and even Phoenician eras.

I loved the history, the architecture, the scenery, but also the company. We drove separately just to make sure no one saw us together, which was annoying, but as soon as we were together, we talked nonstop. About where we were. About the Navy. About life. And, when we had enough relative privacy, what we’d do once we were alone.

I loved it. I just fucking loved it. Every last minute, even when I was driving back by myself, because I’d spend the whole ride smiling like an idiot and thinking about Alex.

I really wanted to go to Morocco, which was only about three hours away by car and ferry, but that required some clearances from our command. Traveling within Spain was easy, even if we needed to get an out-of-bounds chit for some of the farther places. Those chits were signed off by different people, and nobody really cared. If two people put in requests to visit Morocco at the same time, though, the clearance requests would likely both land on the same person’s desk. Maybe that person wouldn’t care, or maybe he’d ask questions about why an officer and an enlisted service member wanted to take the same ferry to the same city at the same time. And there were two opportunities for someone to get suspicious—the person who signed off on requests to go to Morocco, and the person who signed off on requests to go to Africa.

So we decided to hold off on Morocco. And anyway, my sons were begging me to take them, so I’d wait until they visited.

“There’s also that part about being two dudes traveling to a country where homosexuality is illegal,” Alex pointed out one night. “Most people don’t really pay enough attention to notice or care one way or the other, and I’m like ninety-nine percent sure my tour guides in Marrakech were a gay couple. But I’d rather not explain things to the Moroccan authoritiesorour commands if someonedoesdecide they care.”

That was a reasonable point. There were places in the U.S. where I wouldn’t be out and proud, and I wasn’t going to gamble with my safety in another country either, with or without someone I was already traveling with on the sly.

So… Morocco could wait until September.

We were also making plans to take off to other parts of Europe, especially since we could be reasonably sneaky about the leave chits. We’d probably just blend into the larger stack of people making similar requests. That seemed like a contradiction, given how reluctant Americans were to leave overseas bases, but it was true. For all they didn’t explore off-base very much, quite a fewdidgo to the big tourist magnets. Especially the seasonal ones. So Dr. Marks and HM1 Barlow were both going to Prague in December to check out the Christmas markets? So was half the base. One of us was heading to Florence, Rome, and Naples while the other was visiting friends in Gaeta (which was between Naples and Rome) before heading to Pompeii (which was right next to Naples)? A lot of people went to Italy after the summer heat died down. And whowasn’theading to Munich for Oktoberfest?

Traveling in Europe required a lot less paperwork and scrutiny than going to Africa, and more service members and families stayed within the continent for various reasons, so it didn’t really raise eyebrows if people ventured out into the rest of the EU. As long as we weren’t on the same flights or staying in the same hotels (on paper, anyway), we could fly under the radar.

Hopefully.

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