Hemingway - Zoe Dawson Page 0,46
groaned.
Max pinched his forehead, massaging his temples. The way Anna described Dodger, Max didn’t want her anywhere near him. He went to open his mouth.
“Dodger is an excellent choice,” Gina chimed in. “He did come up with the lace Rhonda wanted for her gown and found the topper for the cake.”
“What topper? When were you in touch with Dodger?” Max frowned.
“Last week. He’s a whiz at getting stuff that seems to be unobtainable.”
“He’s wonderful,” Rhonda said with a smile. “I’m so grateful.”
Max stepped off the raised dais and crouched in front of Gina. “He’s my teammate and a pain in my ass. When did you get his number?”
“He called me about the lace after I mentioned it. I don’t know how he got my number. SEAL ninja skills?” She shrugged and reached out to squeeze his forearm. “So, we talk.”
“You what?”
“He’s interesting and has a lot of funny stories to tell. Sometimes he gets homesick. Isn’t he part of your sacred brotherhood? You should be as thankful as Rhonda that he’s helping.” She waved her hand. “It’s a moot point. I already asked him to be a groomsman. He was honored.”
“You what?”
“You’re repeating yourself, little brother,” Gina said, folding her arms over her chest which meant there was no further discussion on the matter.
“Ooh, I can’t wait to meet him,” Anna cooed, her eyes bright and sparkling, and everyone started talking at once. But this time Max was right in the middle of it. The tailor peeked his head in, saw they were still at it and disappeared again.
Forty-five minutes later, after coaxing the tailor back into the room and ushering his five sisters out, Max was on base.
“Dodger!” he called out as the man turned and saw him barreling down the hall. Dodger backed up right into his teammates, 2-Stroke and Saint, who caught him, puzzled looks on their faces until they heard Max’s shout. “Stop right there!”
“What the hell did you do now, Dodge?”
“Nothing. I’m bloody innocent,” he said as Max reached him and kept moving through his teammates and pinned Dodger against the wall.
“Innocent my ass. When were you going to tell me? When you were walking down the aisle?”
“Man, I need some popcorn,” 2-Stroke said as he glanced at Saint.
“Are you getting married?” Saint asked.
Max ignored them. “When?”
“I was going to tell you, mate. I promise, but I was waiting until maybe you were…you know…around your family, definitely unarmed, maybe inebriated or unconscious or restrained in a strait jacket.”
Saint laughed softly. “Hoo boy, he’s in trouble big time.”
“These are my sisters. You got that, numbnuts?”
“Sure. I was just trying to help out Gina and Rhonda. You know, make her day the best it can be.”
“Are you their wedding planner?” Max growled. He had no idea how Dodger did it. Defuse his temper and soften Max like jelly with this sincere look in his eyes.
“No, but... Bollocks, Max, you’re my teammate, and I wanted to do something for you. Is that so hard to understand?”
Yeah, there it was. That damn soft spot.
“His sisters? They good looking?” Saint asked.
“Beautiful,” 2-Stroke said, shooting Max an innocent look in response to his scowl. “It’s true. Chill, man.”
“Step out of line and there will be hell to pay. Got that, mate?” He let Dodger go, then said, “I’ve got lime and a shovel in my trunk.”
Still fuming over being outmaneuvered by his big sister, Max headed over to the SEAL compound. As he came around the barracks to the grinder to enter his office, he saw three trainees arguing near the beach edge of the asphalt. In the gloom, he made out Daniel Wilson, Walter Manning, and Craig Hennessey.
“What’s going on? Why aren’t you guys getting ready for tomorrow?”
“C’mon, Hennessey,” Wilson said and grabbed his arm. Hennessey had bruises on his face and along his neck.
“Release him, Wilson.”
Wilson’s jaw tightened.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Hennessy wrestled out of Wilson’s strong hold. “I want to ring out. Th-they were only trying to encourage me to stay,” Hennessey said, but the guy looked battered and nervous. Most of the trainees who quit BUD/S were more ashamed and solemn, but Hennessey was sweating, his eyes darting back to Manning and Wilson. He looked…afraid.
“You sure about this?” Max asked, watching Manning and Wilson, who looked pissed, as if they wanted to say something but didn’t.
“Yes. I’m done.”
“You heard him. Get yourselves squared away, or there will be hell to pay tomorrow. I’ll make sure of it.”
“You’ll regret this, Hennessey,” Wilson said in a threatening voice, and