Page 64 of Commander in Briefs

“Go see what you can help with.” I push Cade toward the hordes of bodies scrambling for a place in line.

His brow lowers as his silent plea begs me to come with him. He can do this. Giving back to the community is what he needs. Ever since our return from Washington, D.C., Cade has been subdued, even broody at times. I’m not sure who pissed in his Cheerios, but it’s going to stop. Now.

I shoo him with a wave of my hand before he can curve those pouty lips into a full-blown frown. Cade frowning is hard to deny. He stomps away, his clunky boots echoing in the small space.

United Reach Foundation is a small charity run by a local businessman whose seven-year-old son passed away from cancer three years ago. Every Sunday after church on the walk home, his son would pass by the homeless, slipping each of them a few pennies. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had.

When he died, his father honored his memory by opening this foundation, allowing anyone to enjoy a free meal. It’s obvious from the number of people packed in this tiny room the poverty level in our city is on the rise.

Meandering through the room in search of empty plates, I try to keep myself busy. Poverty and despair bleed onto me at every turn.

Carol, the woman in charge, allowed me free reign earlier, encouraging me to make myself at home, jump in where needed. Given her harried look, wild strands of hair flying around her face, she was desperate for additional bodies. Cade and I volunteering made her year.

The floor is littered with resting bodies. Some are laid out enjoying a nap in the air conditioning, others propped up, gulping down every ounce food their stomachs can hold. It’s a heartbreaking sight. One, I hope I never get immune to.

In the back corner, four guys are huddled, laughing. It’s odd to hear such a sound in this place. I venture over, curious as to what made these guys so jovial in the face of adversity.

“Can I get you gentleman anything?” My eyes slide inconspicuously over their haggard forms.

Their clothes are mismatched, hanging off their slim shoulders but the dog tags hanging from each of their necks is what catches my attention the most. Three of them give me timid smiles, shaking their heads in silent nos before looking down at their feet. I’m not sure if they are nervous to speak to a woman or if they are used to keeping their heads down, a common sight in the homeless. The other one, with his shaggy blond hair, starts his perusal at my toes, slowly working his way up my body. I don’t feel offended or violated at all. Honestly, I feel relieved that this man is not as damaged as he seems.

“How about your number, beautiful?” His voice is raspy, hoarse like he’s been screaming at a rock concert for hours. It’s sexy and endearing all at once. I like this guy.

I chuckle at his boldness, squatting to sit next to them.

“What’s your name, soldier?”

He eyes me, hesitating now that I have asked something so personal. I give him a little wink to put him at ease. It works because he starts to laugh, threading his fingers through his unruly hair.

“Connor.” He clears his throat nervously. “Connor Hayes.” He eyes the other guys, who haven’t looked up since my arrival.

“And your friends?” I nod in the direction of his three companions.

Connor swallows thickly. “Uh, that’s Vic,” he points to the one with a shaved head, clearly a veteran, “and that’s Mason.” Mason raises his head slightly but never meets my eyes. “And Tim.” Tim nods his head, his eyes downcast.

“Nice to meet you, gentlemen. I’m Anniston.” I make them uncomfortable, that’s obvious. All three of them are now staring at their feet like the answer out of this situation will magically appear on their shoes.

Connor nods slightly, acknowledging my introduction.

“Can I get you seconds?”

They take turns shaking their heads without uttering a word. Well then. I guess I am going to have to pull out the Commander.

“I asked you a question. I expect an answer. Verbally.”

Connor’s head snaps up, his brown eyes locking on mine. And then, very slowly, a smile starts to tug on one side of his mouth. He’s fighting a smile, and it’s fucking adorable.

“I love a woman in charge.” His flirty comment throws me for a second but I recover quickly.

“That’s good to hear because I’m always in charge.”

His laugh is infectious as it rumbles out, filling the silence of the room. Vic and Mason venture a look at me, curious expressions on their weathered faces. “Anniston, what’s someone like you doing down here?”

I shrug at Connor, hesitating to answer his question. Does the truth really matter? Before I can think of something to say that doesn’t sound like I’m a total creeper, Cade approaches from behind. At this point, I can feel when he’s near me. It’s something that I’ve started to notice the more we are together.

“Commander.”

It’s a simple statement to outsiders. To me, it’s a warning. He’s concerned that I’ve made myself at home with strangers.

---