Page 8 of Guarding Her Heart
“I think this is it,” I say, nodding as I take it all in. “This is where we’re supposed to be.”
“Damn right it is,” Jax agrees, a wide grin splitting his face. “This place is going to be epic.”
We spend the next hour walking the perimeter, discussing the layout, and throwing around ideas for the design. It feels good to be doing something productive, something that feels like it’s moving us forward… me forward. For the first time in weeks, I feel a sense of purpose, like this is the fresh start I’ve been looking for.
When we’re done, most of us head to Jack’s Place for lunch as Declan and Jax go to work. The conversation flows easily, filled with laughter and the kind of camaraderie that comes from years of friendship.
After lunch, we all go our separate ways, promising to meet up later in the week to finalize the details. As I head back to my truck, I pull out my phone, shooting a quick text to Jenny.
Ethan: The location is perfect. We’re moving forward with it. How about that celebration tonight?
I slide into the driver’s seat, my heart pounding a little faster than usual. It’s strange—this feeling of anticipation. Since the shit with Amber happened, I’ve avoided romantic entanglements at all costs. But it feels different with Jenny. It feels like maybe there’s something there; something special.
Her reply comes a few minutes later, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.
Jenny: I’m in! How does dinner sound? My treat this time.
Ethan: Sounds perfect but I’m buying. I’ll pick you up at 7? Send me your address.
Jenny: See you then. Can’t wait.
She sends me her address along with a bunch of happy face emojis and one party hat emoji.
The rest of the day passes in a blur. I head home, clean up a bit, and try to focus on the logistics of Hooplas. By the time seven rolls around, I’m more than ready to see her again. I pull up to her apartment, my heart pounding in my chest as I step out of the truck. Before I can even knock, the door swings open, and there she is, looking more beautiful than I remembered.
“Hey,” she says, her smile lighting up her whole face. “Ready for our celebration?”
“Absolutely,” I reply, kissing her cheek and then offering her my arm. “Shall we?”
We head to a small, intimate restaurant called The Silver Willow on the edge of town. It’s a cozy hidden gem that only the locals know about, surrounded by centuries-old oak trees with air plants hanging from the branches and windows overlooking the flowing river in the back. As we settle into our seats, the conversation flows as easily as it did the night before.
“So, what’s the plan for Hooplas?” Jenny asks, her eyes sparkling with interest.
I lean back in my chair, a grin on my face. “We’re going to create something really cool—a place where people can come together, relax, have a good time. We want it to be more than just a bar. We want it to feel like home. A place the community can come together.”
Jenny nods, her expression thoughtful. “That sounds amazing. I have no doubt it’s going to be a huge success.”
“Thanks,” I say, feeling a warmth spread through me at her words. “I’m glad you think so.”
As the night goes on, the conversation turns more personal, and I find myself opening up to her in a way I haven’t with anyone in a long time.
“So, tell me about your time as a SEAL. What was it like?” she asks as she twirls her pasta around her fork.
“Hard. Really hard, but worth every second and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
She nods, “If you loved it so much, why aren’t you still doing it?”
My mind’s eye flashes to that fateful night over a year ago. “Well, we were on a mission,” I lean in and lower my voice, “I can’t talk about that part or where we were, but when we were exchanging gunfire, I got hit in the arm.” I raise the left sleeve of my shirt and show her the scar.
“Oh my god.” She touches the deep scar that has warped my skin and created a gruesome look. I wish I could feel her touch there.
I look down at it, “Yeah. Well, the nerves didn’t heal right, and I have no feeling there. During physical therapy, it was determined I’ll never have the same strength in that arm as I did before the shooting. The Navy, in their infinite wisdom, said that even though it’s not my dominant arm or the arm I use to shoot with, and gave me only two choices… to leave the team or leave the Navy. I chose to leave the Navy. So, they gave me a medical discharge.”
The look on her face is understanding and not pity, and I appreciate that more than I could express. “Wow. I’m glad you at least survived.”
I smile at her, “Me, too.”
She has a confused look on her face, “So, I’m sure there are plenty of opportunities for a retired Navy SEAL. What are you doing in Hibiscus Harbor?”
