Page 35 of Doing Life

Brick sent back

I’ll meet you there for chimichangas

and they were good to go.

Look at him, being social with some people he didn’t live with who weren’t Sloan. Now they just had to get through lunch without another Karen type giving them hell.

Chapter Eleven

Sloan wanted to take Lance out someplace that wasnotthe coffee shop.

Hell, he’d heard all about Rory taking the guys to El Mariachi, and Sloan had to admit he was a little peeved he hadn’t tried taking Lance someplace out of his comfort zone.

But then, he made good Mexican food.

Ben had told him all about the bitch who’d attacked them at the damn grocery store. She was lucky it was Ben and not him who’d had been there, because she might have been nothing more than a grease spot when all was said and done.

Okay.

Maybe a farmers market? Yeah, maybe they could go to a farmers market. That was outside, though, with uneven ground and tons of things to knock over.

God, it was hard to know what to do with somebody who couldn’t see, because he wanted Lance to enjoy himself, be able to relax, have fun. They couldn’t go to the movies because all Lance could do was hear stuff and eat popcorn, and he wasn’t super good at explaining what happened.

Lance didn’t seem like the bar kind of guy. They’d nevergone to bars when they were together before. They’d played cards for hours, days. They’d read a lot too, which was weird but true.

But that was sort of out—cards and books. So…

He couldn’t really ask Lance to go throw a football, which was another hobby that they’d had in the service.

What if they’d went to the lake? Lakes were cool. Swimming was all right. Dogs liked water.

He tapped his foot, eyes on the wall as he thought about this. This could be a plan.

They could go to the lake. Hell, they could even go camping, although he wasn’t sure about that leg.

If Lance got down on the ground, could he get back up?

What about sleeping on the ground?

They could sleep in the truck. He could get a blow-up bed so they could sleep in the bed of the vehicle. He’d say they could go away for the Fourth of July weekend, but he was working.

Lord, that had to be a situation fraught with danger. A town that was chock-full of wounded warriors and guys with PTSD and fireworks and dogs all in a mix.

No, he was dreading that.

Maybe they should go away before. A long weekend or even a short weekend? Christ, he was an idiot.

But he was warming to the idea of camping down at the lake.

His phone buzzed, Lance’s name popping up. Every time Lance texted him first, it gave him this ridiculous little thrill.

Hey, man.

Hey, what’s up?

Nothing bored. Thought I’d see if you’re busy.

Nope.

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