Page 75 of The All-Inclusive

“Is that him?” He’s speaking so loudly that he’s probably snatched the phone from her hand. “Trent, son—what the hell are you doing?”

“Working, Dad.” Gritting my teeth, I hold tight to the phone. “I’m OUTCONUS right now.”

At least his position as a submarine missile tech means he knows not to ask for more detail. Out of the country means out of the country and that’s enough said.

But my father snarls anyway. “Were you planning to invite me to your goddamn wedding?” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. “Eighteen years of molding you into the man you are. Paying for food and the roof over your head—that doesn’t earn me a chance to see you get hitched to that pretty little girl of yours? What’s her name again? Sonya or Sherri or?—”

“Sara.” I almost hate saying her name in his presence. Like it taints her to give him this minuscule piece of her. “How long are you in Portland?”

If he catches the fact that I’m dodging his question, he doesn’t say so. “I’m here ‘til the seventh. Got some leave stored up just for this.”

That’s way too long for my mother to have to put up with him.Dammit.“Where are you staying?”

“What the hell do you mean where am I staying? In my own fucking house with my own fucking wife?—”

“Okay. I thought you might be over on the coast for training or something.”

He huffs out an exasperated breath. “I’m here to see my only goddamn son get married.” Such a cheerful wedding guest. “When are you getting here?”

“Um, soon.” Jesus, I need to stop this. To get my mom back on the line at least. “Could I please?—”

“Call your mother when you need to be picked up at the airport.”

And with that, my father hangs up.

I stare at my phone for a moment, wondering if it’s safe to text Mom back. The call came in from her number, so there’s a good chance he’s holding her phone. He’s always been one to check Mom’s messages and calls, so I’d better not take any chance of upsetting him.

Upsetting my dad when he’s alone with my mom is the last thing on Earth I should do.

I settle for sending her a text that says I miss her and urging her to call back when it’s a better time to talk. Hopefully, that’s benign enough.

A heaviness settles in my chest, replacing the light, blissful feeling I’ve had since I left Sara and Logan in bed this morning. I ducked out before dawn, long before the sun inched over the horizon. Sara’s always been an early riser, but this was way beyond early. More likelate, if you’re gauging by the still-open bar near the pool.

I crept quietly to the bathroom to splash water on my face, gave a passing thought to showering, but decided it made more sense to go back to my room where my stuff is.

I paused by the bed, debating whether to leave a note. Or whether to leave at all. How nice would it feel to stay there in bed with the woman I love and the man I…

The man I….

What the fuck was I supposed to call Logan, anyway?

Boyfriend?

The thought soured my stomach as I swallowed the lead ball filling my throat. No way was I ready to go there. To put labels on anything or think beyond the next couple days.

Then Sara rolled over, her warm brown eyes fluttering open. With a delicate smile, she squinted at me through the lamplight I’d used to get dressed.

“Trent?” She sounded confused and still half asleep.

I stooped at the bedside, speaking low so I didn’t wake Logan. “Go back to sleep. It’s still dark out.”

“Okay, but—” She rubbed one of her eyes as Logan stirred in his sleep. “Are you coming back?”

“Eventually.” Did she think I was making a break for the airport? “We’re snorkeling later, right?”

“That’s right.” A sleepy smile settled on her face as her eyes drifted shut again. “Maybe later we talk about the future?”

Cold dread pulsed through me, filling my limbs with pure ice. “Sure.” I stroked a hand down her arm, hoping to lull her back to sleep. “I just need a workout and a shower.” That’s as far in the future as I felt willing to plan.

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