when she opened her mouth to speak. “We’re not going to talk about this anymore, okay? Not today. Today we’re going to have lunch, and we’re gonna talk about music and movies and books and even non-war-related politics if we dare, plus I’m gonna tell you how great Maggie is. And the heaviest we’ll get is maybe a little strategizing for how to deal with her crazy friend Lizzie and Lizzie’s brother Mike—who is, right now, too old for Maggie, but I gotta confess that I relate to him with every screaming cell in my body, because I once had a thing for this really amazing girl who was too young for me.”
Arlene smiled just a little at that, and he couldn’t resist. He leaned down to kiss her. Gently. As sweetly as he could manage. Still, when he pulled back to look again at her, he knew she could see his desire—he couldn’t keep it from showing in his eyes.
It was then that she surprised him.
“Who are we kidding, Jack?” she whispered. “Let’s just check into the hotel.”
Oh, yes please … Jack clenched his teeth over the reply, and instead said, in a voice that needed clearing a few times, “That’s not why I brought you here.”
She didn’t believe him, and the look she gave him made him laugh.
“It’s not,” he said as he made himself step back from her. He reached for the red-and-white-striped bag on her shoulder. It held her sweatshirt, a Red Sox baseball cap, and a bottle of sunblock—and probably, at the bottom, since it was so heavy, a book or some kind of weapon. A handgun. A Taser. A bottle of mace.
Jack had spent time in both Iraq and Afghanistan, and he knew that most military personnel carried deadly weapons while out and about. It was a hard habit to shake—the sense of insecurity that came from not being armed.
And, sure enough, she wouldn’t surrender the bag. “I got it,” she said.
“Okay,” he agreed and took her hand instead. “Let’s go have lunch.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I was thinking,” Robin said as he sat on the edge of the bed to tie his running shoes. His military-short haircut emphasized the angles of his handsome face and somehow made his already impossibly blue eyes even more strikingly neon when he looked up.
Jules was already dressed for their morning run—a ritual he missed sorely whenever he was gone, even for just an overnight. A ritual he missed among many other “rituals.” So to speak. Although, right now he was wishing he hadn’t been in such a hurry to get out of bed. It wouldn’t have taken much effort on his part to convince Robin to make their morning run an afternoon run.
“What?” Robin said as he smiled up at Jules—who realized he was standing there, just grinning at his husband like the village idiot.
“I’m just really glad to be home,” Jules simplified.
“You get any vacation time,” Robin asked, holding out his hand, “to make up for the extended trip? I mean, besides today?”
Jules laughed as, instead of his helping to pull Robin to his feet the way he’d expected, Robin pulled him down so that they were both sitting together on the bed, fingers tightly clasped. “I’m sure I’ll be able to arrange something,” he said. “You thinking western Mass? A little romantic getaway …?”
“Actually,” Robin said, “I’m thinking … family vacation. California.”
“California,” Jules repeated with a laugh.
Robin’s movie-producer sister Jane was married to Cosmo, a chief in Navy SEAL Team Sixteen, and they had a place in Coronado, as well as a house in LA. Vacations spent with them were undeniably action-packed and fun, but far from relaxing. They had a toddler, Billy, who was ridiculously adorable, but who fully embraced the concept of the Terrible Twos.
Cosmo’s mom adored Robin and always made a point to visit simultaneously. She was great, but she brought her own level of pandemonium to the noisy chaos with her need to play show tunes at astonishingly high decibel levels at least several times each day.
Family vacations were undeniably enjoyable, but they were never restful—or even remotely romantic.
“I was thinking,” Robin said again, “that we could bring Dolphina and Maggie with us. Will, too, if he can get the time off. I’m talking, of course, after Arlene goes. Back.”
It was not lost on Jules—the way he said back, with that hesitation in front of it and the expression on his face that telegraphed the fact that the word left a bad taste in