Page 52 of Dead Ahead (Department of Defense)
It was Triton.
He stood in the middle of the dining room, next to the hostess, looking as frozen as I felt. We stared at one another for a long moment, the world moving on even though time stood still for us.
“She’s right there.” The hostess, a college student off for the summer, pointed at me, her expression somewhere between confused as she glanced at me and worshipful when she glanced up at Tri.
The words seemed to break us both out of our surprise, and then Tri grinned, the expression stretching his mouth into a warm, bright expression I hadn’t seen before.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was running towards him, and when he opened his arms, I leaped into them. He caught and held me tightly, my feet dangling off the ground. Then we were kissing, desperately, gratefully, enthusiastically. I knew, without either of us saying a word, he felt the same way about me.
Tri finally put me down, but before he could say anything, I grabbed his hand and dragged him back towards the kitchen. “Come with me,” I said, smiling so wide, my cheeks were already hurting.
I couldn’t believe Tri was here, and part of me still thought the entire thing was a figment of my imagination. But his hand in mine was warm, and my lips still tingled with his kisses. And he was following me willingly into the kitchen.
Tri let me lead him around, introducing him to the astonished kitchen staff and the head chef and then to my mother and brother, who had left the bar for a moment to talk over something. I could tell Tri felt awkward and flustered by my mother’s effusive welcome and thanks, possibly even more uncomfortable than he’d looked swimming nearly naked in the icy Pacific, pushing a rowboat to a deserted island. But for my part, I felt nervous. It was almost like I was with an entirely different person, a stranger, even though I knew him intimately.
He even looked different in his t-shirt, which was just tight enough that it outlined his defined chest and clung tightly around his biceps. Normal. Not the soldier who had saved me from terrorists and with whom I’d been stranded on an island. Tri was an everyday normal guy, replying to my family as they peppered him with questions.
But when my mother offered to buy him dinner, Tri demurred with that half-tilted boyish grin that made my heart flutter, the same one I never thought I’d see again, and ran a hand over his buzzed hair.
“Thanks, Mrs. Martin, but I’ll have to take a raincheck. I have something I want to do with Ashley first.”
We said our goodbyes, even though I had no idea what Tri was talking about, and he led me out the door and into the bright afternoon.
“Where are we going?” I asked, and I could hear the slight tinge of apprehension in my tone.
“You’ll see.” The smile Tri shot back over his shoulder at me made me melt, one-part boyish charm, the other part model-like brilliance. “I’ve seen this place in magazines before.”
