Page 19 of Keeping It
Sighing, I mess with the rudder pedal and the wind causes a batch of turbulence. Tahoe grabs the straps of his seatbelt again—panicked. I grin, ignoring it as best I can. “You’re not being nailed. I am. Well, in the figurative sense. It’s not a big deal. I’ll help you. We’re going to land soon. Takeoff and landing, Tahoe.”
His eyes widen. Even he knows the threat in those two things. He looks at me, and his gaze is so strong, I chance a look. It’s a mistake. “All or nothing, right?” he asks.
He’s right. All would be celebrating his property purchase, and making immediate plans to select upgrades and paint colors. My immediate reaction was what everyone else is going to think about it. What it means for the relationship. What it means if it fails. Before it’s really even begun. There will be a constant reminder of the first man I’ve ever wanted. The Homer Property will no longer be the Bed and Breakfast that my Uncle Stan used to stay at when he came to visit us. It will be the place where I fall in love with the beast of a man sitting next to me. I feel it happening even now—the connection, that unquantifiable quality used to describe falling for a person. It’s a textbook case.
I point the nose down a touch and my hangar comes into view. “You’re right. I’m sorry. All.”
“And Caroline?” Tahoe asks, voice loud and unsteady. “Don’t fucking kill me today.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “Not today, Tyler Holiday. Maybe tomorrow.”
“I look forward to that. On the ground.”
He doesn’t close his eyes this time. His eyes are focused like lasers on my house, the side that has the large window.
For once, I know we’re both thinking about the same exact thing.
Chapter Nine
Tahoe
“Good job at the range today,” Leif says. “With all the razzing, too. I still can’t believe you’re taking yourself off the market, dude.” I’ve tried to explain that I actually like Caroline, but my friends just don’t understand, won’t even try to understand why I would throw away my old ways for a solitary woman. Maybe if my buddies got to know the women they spend their time with, they might find a match. Might find something to ease the loneliness of our existence.
I clear my throat as I push open the metal gate of my brand spanking new property. It looks a little like a jungle—in an overgrown state from lack of attention. The gravel driveway is lined with green trees that desperately need a trim. This is exactly what I need to keep my head in check. Lately, all I can think about is Caroline. Her laugh. Her smile. How perfect she is for me. It’s a dangerous slope, and this will be a good decompression when I’m trying to find the old me in this new place, with a new outlook. Tilting my head, I survey the three story Victorian house in front of me. “Don’t you ever get bored fucking random hoes? It’s not even a challenge anymore,” I exclaim, taking mental snapshots of the windows and doors. Almost all of them will need replacing if I keep it. “Honestly, Leif. An actual relationship is more of a challenge.” That’s quite an understatement.
He trails behind me as we head toward the house. I pull the key ring from my pocket. It contains about twenty keys, but the front door key is marked with a red piece of tape. The rest I’ll have to figure out on my own time. The owners were basically giving it away and didn’t even negotiate when I offered fifty thousand under the asking price. Some things didn’t change after the attacks. The real estate in Florida is still a fraction of the price of what San Diego places go for.
Leif rattles on about the woman he had sex with the night before, and I try to blur out the names. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that Caroline knows everyone and I don’t want to have to defend my friend against his whore allegations when it goes south. Like it always does. “This place is a shit hole, Tahoe,” he says as we step through the front door. “You’re crazy. What’s wrong with your apartment by the base?” Nothing except it’s not mine, and doesn’t need any type of work. It’s boring.
“No one got anywhere being sane. You know that,” I reply. I’ve seen houses in worse shape, but I’ve seen better. The grand foyer is beautiful, with two dark wooden staircases on each side of a round marble table in the center of the room. The ceiling is a brilliant stained glass bent into an oblong shape. “Fuck, she’s right. I can’t tear it down.” Shaking my head, I run my hands through my hair. It changes my plans.
“You were going to tear it down?” Leif asks, raising one brow. While he’s aware of my handy man capabilities, he’s been a SEAL on the east coast all of the years I was on the west coast. He never saw my house, or my work first hand.
“Weren’t gonna’ help me with demo, then?” I ask, smirking in his direction.
“You need a bulldozer, not a SEAL Team,” he replies, brusquely.
Sighing, I take out my cell phone and start jotting down notes. “I was buying it for the property, I only saw the few photos they posted online. It looked like a piece of shit. My realtor said it was a project,” I explain, shrugging. “Caroline is going to be here soon,” I tell Leif.
“And you want me to leave?” he jokes.
My boots are noisy as I walk into the grand room to the left that overlooks the drive. “The last time you saw her you offended her so gravely I had to make her my girlfriend to make up for it.” I’m half joking, but Leif laughs like I’ve just said the funniest thing in the world.
“Have you really not fucked her?” We’ve gone over it a thousand times. Twice this morning when he was spotting me on bench, again when I asked him to pass me a bottle of shampoo in the locker room shower, and about seven times during today’s meeting when all the guys were there.
I glare in his direction. He puts up his palms in front of his body. “Okay, okay. I just don’t understand it. You spent every day with her for a month and you didn’t play hotdog ham pocket. It’s unreasonable.” We will always come back to this, I realize. I don’t fault him, I can’t, when I’ve been him. “You don’t even claim big swole pucker hole either. Does she not put out? Give me something.”
Rolling my eyes, I try to think of what I could say to shut him up. “Stella.”
Leif swallows hard. He knows about that disaster. You respect heartbreak. No questions asked. “If that happens again, I don’t know what I’ll do,” I say. “Go ahead and make fun of me for having feelings,” I edge. “I’m a giant pussy, but that’s my right. I haven’t fucked her yet because I want to make sure it’s not a mistake. She’s not a mistake. The expectations come after you’ve slept with a woman. I’m trying to do this the right way. Instead of swinging my dick, I’m handing her flowers. This is my new start.” I turn towards the bay window in the great room to find Caroline pushing her bike up the driveway. The basket on the handlebars holds a large paper bag. “That’s why they sent me here,” I add. “Because I needed something different. And as fucked as I thought it was, I think they were right.” Leif’s boots are loud as he marches up next to me, looking at her, eyes narrowed, as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle.
She’s wearing a tank top and a pair of cropped overalls, hair falling over each shoulder in thick braids. Caroline looks like a fucking Playboy centerfold, country girl edition. “I see it. I do. I even understand what you’re saying about making sure you don’t blow your shit up again, but how the fuck do you know if it’s a mistake?”
I shake my head. “I have no fucking clue.” Risk assessment is something SEALs are good with. When you can’t assess something, like a relationship, it is confusing. It’s wild, and carefree, and stunning. It takes my breath away and jolts my entire being with a foreign rush of adrenaline.
Caroline props the bike up on the kickstand and grabs the bag. She doesn’t see us, not yet. Caroline is taking deep breaths. After a few seconds of that, she shields her eyes with one hand and glances up all three stories of the large house—taking stock. She licks her lips and smiles when she’s happy with her assessment.
Leif swallows hard, and I meet his gaze. “Good luck with that, then,” he says, voice cracking.
