Stinger

CHAPTER 13

Grace

I closed the door behind me and the tears started to fall. I knew this was the right thing to do–I couldn't stay a minute longer knowing where he was headed in the morning, and knowing that my heart was involved. But it didn't change the fact that I was forcing myself to leave. It didn't change the fact that it hurt to leave. It didn't change the stark misery that had washed over his face when he realized I was leaving. As I stepped on the elevator and the doors closed behind me, I swiped at my cheeks and leaned back against the wall.

This is where it had started. On an elevator. And now here I was on an elevator again–only this time it was ending. And I didn't want it to. I wanted to go back in time and do it all over again, even knowing what I now knew, just to spend a couple more days with him.

I stepped off and made my way to my room and let myself in. I sank down on the bed and curled into a ball, allowing myself to sob. When the worst of it had passed, I stood up and went to the bathroom and washed my face. Then I changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and started packing. There was no way I was staying in this hotel with Carson a couple floors above me. There were several reasons for this, mainly that I simply didn't trust myself not to run back to his room and fling myself at him. But to what end? I shook my head sadly. I had gotten myself into this situation. But how would I have known that I would develop feelings for Carson Stinger, Straight Male Performer? It was almost ludicrous, even now that it was my reality. But that was a thought I would have had a couple days ago. Now? Now it wasn't really ludicrous at all. Because what I didn't know at the time was that he had an impossibly sweet side, and that he was exciting and brave and generous in every way possible. Did I wish I had never been given this information? Would I rather go back to the time when it was easy to walk away from him, if I had to agree that I would never experience the beauty of our weekend? I was too hurt and confused to answer those questions right now.

I put my large bag over my shoulder and pulled the handle up on my suitcase and rolled it out the door.

I checked out quickly and went outside to wait for the shuttle to the airport. I prayed that there was a flight I could get on tonight but if not, I'd sleep at the airport. It wasn't much of a plan. I almost laughed, but caught myself. Then I almost sobbed and caught myself again. I bit my lip.

The shuttle picked me up fifteen minutes later and I looked back over my shoulder at the Bellagio. I'd become a different person this weekend. Carson had changed me in ways that I suspected were going to make me look at all my decisions differently, make me re-evaluate all my "well-made" plans. I was going to take that with me now and think of him as a gift, as much as my heart was breaking with loss. It was all I had to hold onto so that I didn't demand that the shuttle driver stop and let me out so that I could go running back to him. I leaned my head back on the seat and let the mixture of heartbreak and hope wash over me, bathing my heart in both darkness and in light.

I wheeled my suitcase into my apartment the next morning at seven thirty, exhausted in every way possible. I had been able to change my flight to a red-eye, and had sat around the airport for several hours waiting until boarding started. I had tried to sleep once I got on the plane, but my mind wouldn't let me, too active to shut down and allow me some rest.

I went over every minute of my weekend with Carson, trying to pinpoint the exact moment when I handed him a piece of my heart. Had it been over hot dogs that first night? After the amazing sex? Laughing in the pool? When he told me he was jealous of Parker, revealing that he had feelings for me too? Or had it been sooner than that? Maybe in the elevator when he sang to me to keep me from panicking? When I discovered why he put on that false front of his? Was it possible to connect to another person that quickly? I wanted to scream! Shut down, brain! Why did it even matter? I was like Rainman playing, "Who's on First," over and over and over.

"Hey Pod Person!" I heard called from the kitchen and I left my suitcase and bag at the door, and walked in to greet Abby.

"Hi Abs," I said in a voice even I realized sounded dead. Abby was sitting at our small kitchen table in a pair of sweat pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, her dark brown hair up in a messy pile on top of her head, a cup of coffee and some papers and a pen in front of her.

At the sight of me, her eyes widened and her expression turned concerned. "What'd he do to you?" she whispered, standing up and coming over to me.

I shook my head as my face crumbled and my emotions welled up at the sight of the comfort of my best friend. "He didn't do anything to me, Abby. I did it to myself. I–" I choked and the tears started coming.

Abby pulled me to her, stroking my back and hugging me silently for several minutes as I got a hold of myself. When my tears had subsided, she pulled back and looked into my face, her expression stern.

"I can't believe you did this to us, Grace," she said.

A laugh burst out of me. "To us?" I asked. "How exactly do you figure I did anything to us?"

She pushed a piece of hair behind my ear. "Because, honey, I love you, and so we're going to deal with the aftermath of this weekend together. I'm busy. And still itchy. I hardly have time for this." She raised her eyebrows, a corner of her lip quirking up. She was trying to make me smile. It worked. I loved her.

"Now sit. I'll get you a cup of coffee and you tell me all the details. I don't have to be at class until eleven." Abby was in school at one of the best culinary institutes in the D.C. area. Her cooking was to die for. If I ever indulged, it was to try out one of her recipes. I was never disappointed. We had met on a roommate search site when I had first moved to D.C and not only hit it off as roommates, but had become best friends as well. She was funny and sweet and just slightly outrageous when she wanted to be. She was good for me. She was my third sister.

She poured me a cup of coffee and added cream and sugar to it and put it in front of me. I wrapped my hands around the warm mug and brought it to my mouth, taking a small sip of the hot liquid.

Abby studied me. "At least tell me you didn't fall in love with him, honey," she said quietly.

"It was a weekend, Abby," I said back quietly as well, looking away from her.

She stared into my eyes. "Oh shit. You idiot. You totally did! You fell in love with the porn star!" She groaned, leaning back and sliding down in her chair. "Oh God, this is worse than I thought. When you let loose, you really go all out, don't you girlfriend? Holy crapola."

"Abby, I didn't fall in love in two days. I just… I care about him. I didn't want to say goodbye," I said miserably.

"Start at the beginning, hon. I want a play-by-play, and I know you're sad, but don't gloss over sexytimes."

I laughed and then sniffled. "You're really a perv, you know that?"

"Uh huh. I make no apologies. Now go."

We talked until she had to shower and leave for class. I cried a little more. Then I went into my room, did a face plant on my bed, and didn't wake up until Abby was walking back in the door at six that night.

Carson

I went straight from the airport to the hotel where my shoot was being held, knowing that I could shower there. They'd need to prep me for the cameras anyway. I was used to the drill.

I had barely slept for two hours the night before, listening to every sound in the hallway, hoping against hope that Grace would decide to come back. There was no way I could go to her after the way we'd parted… we had said our goodbyes. I couldn't make it any harder on her. But, I thought maybe she'd change her mind and decide to stay just one more night with me. And so instead of going to the airport like I'd thought about, I stayed in the room where she'd know I'd be. But she hadn't come back. I understood. It still sucked. And the worst part of it all was that I missed her in a way I'd never missed anyone else before. Every instinct in me told me to charge after her, claim her as mine. But we had gone over it. It wasn't possible. Our lives didn't mesh, and there was nothing we could do right now to make that happen.

I had thought about her all night, wondering what it was about her that had gotten under my skin so deeply, so quickly. Maybe I was trying to figure it out so I could dismiss the feeling of loss that I couldn't shake. In the end, I decided that there wasn't an answer. It was just because she was her, and it was really just as simple as that. It didn't matter anyway, but my brain kept turning it over until I thought I'd go crazy.

I knocked on the door of the suite number Courtney had texted me that morning, and was let in by a cameraman I had worked with before. "Hey Joe," I greeted him.

"Hey Carson, how's it going?" He shook my hand.

"Is makeup set up in there?" I asked, indicating a closed door leading to what I assumed was the bedroom and bathroom.

"Yeah. They're waiting for you."

"Okay," I said and headed in. When I opened the door, I was greeted by Courtney who mouthed 'hi' to me as she put her hand over the cell phone she was talking into.

"Hi, Carson!" I heard a high-pitched voice say. "I'm Bambi." A naked blonde with large, obviously fake breasts said from a makeup chair over by the window. A woman with a small makeup brush was applying something to Bambi's nipples.

I smiled tightly. I was so not into this. Just get through it and get paid, I reminded myself. "Hey, Bambi, nice to meet you," I said, walking over and shaking her hand.

She giggled. "Is that the best you got for me honey?" she asked, standing and swatting the makeup person aside as she leaned in to kiss me softly on the lips, running her tongue over my bottom one before leaning back on a smile I'm sure she thought was seductive. Why she was bothering, I wasn't sure. I thought it was pretty obvious that I was a sure thing here, whether I wanted to be or not. Fuck. Why was I suddenly feeling ill?

I smiled at her again and asked, "This your first shoot?"

"Yes, and I specifically asked for you for my first time," she batted her eyelashes. "I've had a crush on you since I saw your picture on Courtney's website. This is gonna be fun!"

Interesting. I backed away. "Well, I gotta shower, but I'll be out in a few," I said, turning.

"I'll be ready for you!" she called after me.

I went into the bathroom and took a quick shower, and then asked the makeup people if they could pull the chair into the bathroom. I wasn't in the mood to chat with Bambi, or anyone for that matter. I needed some time to get my head in the game here, so to speak. Or at the very least, my body.

Unlike the longer-length films I had done, this was just a one-day shoot so at least it'd be over after today.

Thankfully makeup wasn't a big production on a shoot like this one, especially for me. Anything applied would just rub off so not much was used. Courtney came in and kissed my cheek. "Hey babe," she said. "You look tired." She looked at the girl touching me up. "Put some concealer under his eyes Marcia."

"I'm fine, Courtney. Dim the lights."

"Even dim lights won't hide those bags, love. What'd you do? Stay up all night partying?"

I snorted. "I wish."

Marcia rubbed something under my eyes and blotted it and then signaled that she was done.

Courtney looked down at my boxers. "Need some time alone, hon?"

"Yeah," I answered already wondering if I'd be able to get it up at all.

"Okay, the shoot calls for Bambi to touch herself for a few minutes on the bed and then you come join her, ready to start the party, got it? You'll move out on to the balcony after a few minutes and continue there."

"Yeah. Okay."

"Good." She looked at me for a couple beats, but then cleared out and closed the door behind her.

I stood there still for a couple minutes as I heard the music start in the bedroom beyond. I dropped my boxers and leaned back on the sink and tried to get in the mood. It wasn't working. I thought about all the sex I'd had this weekend with Grace. Maybe I had overdone it. Grace. I felt a twitch and as I pictured her bent over the bed in heels and a thong, begging for me to take her, I hardened fully. I pictured all of the ways I had taken her over the weekend and after a couple minutes, I was painfully hard.

There was a soft knock on the door indicating they were ready for me. I walked out and watched for a minute as Bambi writhed on the bed, moaning in an over-the-top way, her hand between her legs. I almost lost my erection. I closed my eyes and pictured Grace again and moved toward the bed. I joined Bambi and as I sat down beside her, she sat up slightly and started kissing me, thrusting her tongue in my mouth and moaning loudly. I almost grimaced. She didn't taste like sunshine and sweetness. I opened my eyes and looked down her body. Her skin wasn't pale and creamy, it was dark and overly tanned. I shut my eyes quickly and tried to bring Grace to mind. I had to keep her face and body in my brain if I was going to do this. I reached up to touch her hair and it wasn't heavy silk in my hand, it was dry and crispy with hairspray. We continued kissing and she brought her hand up to my cheek, the one that she had used to touch herself. I smelled her essence on her hand and that was it. I broke away from her and stood up. "Sorry," I muttered. "Not your fault but this isn't working for me."

"Cut!" I heard yelled.

I walked into the bathroom, retrieved my clothes and started pulling them on as Courtney's voice sounded at the door. "Carson, babe, if you need a little more time or maybe a blue pill I've got you covered."

I opened the door, pulling on my shoes. I pushed past Courtney. "Sorry, Courtney, I really am. But I can't do this anymore." I looked around the room in general, catching sight of a pouting Bambi pulling a robe on in the corner. "I'm sorry for wasting all of your time. I don't know what to say. I'm just… sorry." Then I walked to the door of the suite, opened it and closed it behind me quietly.

I walked back to the elevators and pushed the "down" button. What the fuck had I just done? I was gonna get sued and I'd never make a film again. So why didn't I give even a small rat's ass right now? I was basically penniless and jobless and I felt… fine. What exactly are you going to do now fuckwit? What about a fucking plan before you do some shit like that? I laughed out loud. A plan. I reached both hands up and laced my fingers together, putting them on my forehead and letting my head fall back. I stood like that for a minute until I heard the elevator ding and the doors start to open. I dropped my hands and started stepping toward it, when I saw who was getting off. Shit! Tim.

He looked surprised. "Carson," he said, frowning, "you can't be done already." He looked down at his watch, his frown deepening. The elevator doors closed behind him and he took a step closer to me.

I took a deep breath. "The shoot is over, Tim. But only because I walked out."

His brows snapped down. "You walked out? What the hell is going on?"

I shook my head slightly. "Listen, Tim, I would have called you later to let you know. But I'm done. I'm not gonna be making films anymore."

He looked at me for a second, his eyes narrowing. Then he let out a sharp laugh, lacking in any humor. "Well, Goddamn. She must have been one hell of a fuck for you to throw your whole career away. Now I really wish she had taken me up on my offer to join me in my hotel room."

I jolted. "Your offer?" I asked, watching him closely for a couple beats. "Your fucking offer?" I repeated, realization that Tim had propositioned Grace when he came to my hotel room the day before, crashing into me.

I moved on him before he even knew what was coming, grabbing his dress shirt and walking him backwards until I slammed him against the wall. Rage was pumping through my blood as I got right up in his face. "You sick, depraved mother fucker. How dare you speak to her like that! How dare you even fucking look at her! I should beat the living shit out of you!"

"What the fuck are you doing?" he interrupted, yelling. "Over a piece of ass, Carson? Over a fucking piece of ass?"

A coldness spread through me as I took him in for a beat, balled up my fist and smashed it into his face. Blood spurted from his nose and I let go of him, letting him sink to the floor. He looked up at me dazedly.

I stepped back and pushed the elevator button again. That same coldness took over my body, the feeling that I was watching the scene from above washing through me. In that moment, something felt like it clicked into place, my body jolting slightly. "I'll no longer require your representation, Tim," I said, without emotion. I felt nothing for the sleazy asshole bleeding on the floor in front of me, nothing but hollow contempt. The elevator doors opened and I stepped into it, my eyes never leaving him as the doors between us closed.

I hopped in my car, a black Nissan Pathfinder that I had bought six months ago after signing with Courtney, and sat there without starting it for a couple minutes, staring unseeing out my window. I leaned forward and banged my head on the steering wheel, resting there for a minute as I cleared my head. I leaned up and started my car and drove like a homing pigeon to the entrance of the freeway. As I drove, I glanced up at a billboard I'd seen a thousand times driving through this part of the city, and my eyes drank it in for the first time, seeing it from a different perspective now. A feeling flowed through me that I couldn't explain, a strange energy that suddenly pulsed through my veins at the idea forming in my brain. Without thinking too much, I pulled out my phone and looked up an address on the Internet. I turned on my GPS and followed the prompts until I arrived at my destination in Santa Monica about twenty minutes later. I parked and got out of my car before I could talk myself out of this. As I was pulling the door open, I glanced up at the sign, Navy Recruiting.

One chance to change your mind, Carson. I paused for a second, but then pulled the door fully open.

I walked in and was immediately greeted by a man wearing a khaki uniform, with a nametag and a few ribbons on his shirt. "Can I help you?" he asked.

Was I really going to do this? Grace's face popped into my head. "I'm here to enlist," I said.

"Well, okay then, I'm your guy," he said on a big smile. "Come on over with me. I'm Petty Officer First Class, Duane Mitchell," he said, stopping to shake my hand quickly and then continuing on to his desk. He sat behind it and indicated a chair on the other side. I sat down.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Carson Stinger."

"Okay, Carson, well before we get started with anything, let's chat for a minute. What's brought you to this decision?" He leaned back in his chair, studying me.

I cleared my throat. "Well, to be honest, I don't really have any options that look a whole lot better. I'm not the college type. I already know that. I want to do something worthwhile with my life."

He nodded. "Well, that's as good a reason as any. Now let me ask you this, have you thought about what job you'd like to do?"

"Uh, not really. I kind of just decided I was gonna do this about half an hour ago."

He laughed. "Right. Well, what are you good at?"

I thought about that for a second. "I'm a great swimmer and I'm good at extreme sports."

Petty Officer Mitchell studied me again for a couple seconds. He nodded his head toward a poster of a group of men in dive gear, machine guns in hand emerging from the water. "Ever heard of a Navy SEAL?"

"A SEAL? Yeah, of course. I'd be suited to be a SEAL?" I asked.

"Well, I don't know. You'd need to score really high on a test called the ASVAB and then pass a physical test during basic training that will ensure you a spot in BUD/S, which stands for Basic Underwater Demolition SEAL Training." He paused, eyeing me, but I remained silent. He went on. "Then you have to make it through basic training and A-School. And then, if you're lucky enough to make it to BUD/S, only about twenty percent of men actually make it through, which means eighty percent fail. So, are you suited to be a SEAL? Not many men are. But if you're a good swimmer and you like sports that are dangerous and take a high level of skill, it's a decent start. But I'll be honest with you, BUD/S is the most rigorous military training on the face of the planet earth. Think on it carefully."

I nodded, furrowing my brow. I didn't need to think on it carefully. My answer came to my lips almost before my brain could process it. "Let's get started," I said.

CHAPTER 14

Grace

I sat on my bed half-heartedly studying. My heart was heavy and I felt a longing inside me that I didn't know what to do with. I missed him, plain and simple. When was this going to get better? It had been a couple days since I'd gotten home from Vegas and it felt like my feelings were intensifying instead of weakening. I had only known him for two and a half days. Didn't it make sense that I could forget him in that amount of time too? I sighed and lay back on my pillow, staring at the ceiling. What was he doing right now? I cringed when I thought of the very real possibility that he was on set again. Then again, he'd told me that he had only made four films in six months and he'd just made one a couple days before. A fierce surge of disgust rose up in me when I pictured him with someone else, even someone he'd never see again. I wanted to scream at the very thought. And then I wanted to throw myself on the floor and cry until I was exhausted and numb. That's what you get when you develop feelings for a porn star. I was an idiot, just like Abby had jokingly called me.

But how had he handled it? Had it been hard for him too, like he'd told me it would be? He'd said I'd changed things for him. And realistically, what that meant was that my short-term legacy would be that I made his life more difficult. I couldn't feel badly about that. I hoped I had ruined his ability to do porn. He could do so much more. I couldn't be the one to make up his mind about that though. He'd have to do that himself. It's why I had walked away. It's why I had had no choice but to walk away. God, he probably wished he'd never met me.

I didn't feel that way about him though, as much as I hurt. I knew what he did, but he was more to me than that. If he weren't, it would have been easy to walk away. I might have even run. And therein lay the problem. An impossible problem.

I lay there for a little while longer, lost in my thoughts when I got a very, very bad idea. I wrestled with it for a few minutes before I stood up and grabbed my laptop off my desk. I powered it up and sat cross-legged on my bed, my hands shaking as I typed his name into Google search. The first site on the list was a website called ArtLove.com and against my better judgment, I clicked on it. I knew this was a bad idea and yet it was like I was possessed. I was powerless to stop myself.

"Grace?" Abby called, as I heard the front door shut.

"In here," I called back, reducing the screen before it had fully loaded.

I heard her footsteps and looked up from the computer when she appeared in my doorway in her school uniform, black pants and a white chef's coat.

"What are you doing?" she asked, taking her hair out of the ponytail it was in and massaging her scalp.

"Um, looking up porn," I said, half-grimacing, half-smiling.

Abby's hand froze in her hair. "Uh, okay. You do have a lock on your door, you know?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm looking up Carson, Abby," I said.

She stared at me for a minute. "Honey, is that such a good idea?" she asked gently.

"Probably not, but it's like I have to see it. I have to know the reality of it. I have to move on." I looked at her sadly.

She hesitated, but then came and sat down on the bed next to me. "All right then, doll, I'm gonna hold your hand."

"Thanks, Abs," I said as I clicked on the reduced screen to bring it up. I gasped.

I had never looked at porn before and so I had no idea what to expect. My eyes grew large as I saw naked people engaged in all-manner of sex acts. "Oh my God," I breathed.

I looked over at Abby and her head was tilted and a small smile was on her face. "This is the site he works for?" she asked.

I nodded. "He said he has a two-year contract. It must be with this site. Why?"

She looked at me. "Have you ever seen porn, honey?"

I shook my head.

"Well, compared to what's out there, this is actually very… artistic."

I looked back at the screen. I could see what she meant. Most of the scenes were on beautiful beaches or in opulent looking homes or patios. The people were all good-looking. I scrolled down, looking more closely. Seriously, the women looked like they could be supermodels. Why did they do this? Same reason Carson did, I guess? Didn't it cause real relationship problems for them too? Both now and later? I shook my head, attempting to clear it. This would never make sense to me.

When I tried to click on one of the videos, a pop up box came up saying that if I wanted to watch the full video, I would need to become a member, and spelling out the different membership options.

I glanced at Abby and then typed Carson's name into the site search bar. Immediately, a page loaded and I let out a tiny gasp. There were stills of Carson actively having sex with different women in multiple screen shots. My brain couldn't keep up with my eyes as I let out a small, choked sob and Abby squeezed my hand, saying "Let's turn this off, honey…"

"No, not yet," I said, my voice sounding very far away to my own ears. I needed to see this. I needed to see the truth of what he did.

"Gracie, these are things he did before he even met you," she said quietly.

"These ones are, Abby, but if I come back here and look next month, there will be a new one, maybe two," I said miserably.

Abby squeezed my hand. "You won't do that though right, hon?"

I shook my head. "No, just this once. I just need to remind myself why I can't contact him. Why I have to let him go."

She shook her head sadly and we both looked at the photos in silence for a minute.

"Holy hell, sweetie, you were right, he's hot."

I looked at her, my brows snapping down.

"Sorry, not helpful," she muttered, looking back at the screen.

As I too looked back at the photos, feeling simultaneously empty and sickened, it registered that the look on his face was… wrong. It was… it was the same look I had seen on his face in the lobby of the Bellagio when we first met and then again at the bar. It wasn't the look that had been on his face when he was with me in bed. He had his mask on in these pictures. But it was little comfort. I felt the vomit rise up my throat, and I stumbled off the bed and ran to the bathroom just in time to lose my lunch.

Carson

Shit, this was gonna suck. I took a deep breath and pulled the door open. Irene, Courtney's elderly receptionist looked up from her computer screen. "Hey, Carson." She smiled. I smiled back warily. Well, at least her reaction to me wasn't calling security like I thought it might be.

"Hey Irene. Courtney in?" I leaned on her desk and she batted her lashes up at me. I usually flirted with her when I came in. I just didn't have it in me this time.

Irene furrowed her brow. "She is, hon. Do you have an appointment with her?" She started flipping through her book. "I don't see–"

"No, Irene, I don't. I'm actually–"

"Carson."

I looked up and Courtney was standing in the doorway of her office, in a gray skirt and a light pink blouse, her black hair hanging straight and long down her back, her face expressionless. Shit.

"Courtney, hi." I walked toward her. "I'm sorry, I haven't called you and I didn't make an appointment, I just–"

"Carson, come on into my office."

I followed along behind her, like a kid who had been called to the principal's office, a kid who knew he was guilty and deserved exactly what he was about to get. After the way things had gone with Tim, I was not hopeful that this meeting would go well. Again, this was gonna suck.

Courtney sat down behind her desk and I took the chair in front of it. As I opened my mouth to speak, Irene's voice said behind me, "Can I get some coffee? Tea?"

Courtney raised her eyebrows at me. "No, not for me," I answered her silent question.

"No, Irene, we're good, thanks," Courtney said and I heard the door close quietly behind us.

Courtney leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers and studying me quietly. "What happened, Carson?" she asked.

I let out a breath. "I'm done, Courtney. I'm sorry. I know it wasn't the professional way to do it. You've been good to me and I really do hate that I'm ending things this way between us."

She was silent for a minute. "You cost me a lot of money that day, Carson."

I took a deep breath. "Yeah, I know. That's part of the reason why I'm here." I reached into my pocket and removed my wallet and took the check out of the billfold. "I sold my car. I had them make out a cashier's check and I signed it over to you. I don't know if it's enough to cover all the expenses of the shoot, and I know it's not enough to cover what you would have made off of the video itself, but I hope it's a start, and I can make payments for the–"

Courtney sighed. "First, tell me what happened to spur you running out of that suite half-dressed?"

I looked down at the check in my hands and set it on the edge of her desk.

I looked away for a minute, finally making a half-laughing/half-choking sound in my throat, and ending it on a sigh. I liked Courtney. She'd always been good to me, always been someone I felt like I could trust in a business full of untrustworthy people. "I met someone, Court," I said softly.

She studied me, her expression softening. "Ah, you fell in love. Well, that'll sometimes do it."

"No, not exactly. I only spent a weekend with her, but–"

"Carson, you fell in love. I see it in your eyes."

I shook my head. "No, really, two and a half days, Courtney. I've just never felt that way about anyone. We–"

She studied me again and I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. She let out a deep breath. "Love doesn't always make sense. And that's the great beauty of it, the great mystery–the thing cynics who scoff at so-called 'insta-love' would bottle if they could. But you can't manufacture mystery, honey. Believe me, I know."

I stared at Courtney, taking in her words, letting them swirl around in my head. "I don't have anything to offer her."

She shook her head slowly. "So change that."

I nodded, looking down at my hands, Grace's face so clear in my mind.

"I think we might have a few things in common, Carson. Can I tell you?"

I looked up at Courtney and she was steepling her fingers again. I nodded.

"My mom was in the business too. I never said anything about it to you, because I know I never liked people bringing it up to me when I wasn't prepared to talk about it. I only know about your situation because I make it my business to know about the people working for me. Also, my mom's story ended a little differently than yours did. My mom overdosed on heroine when I was fifteen. She was a runaway who got into the business when she was sixteen. She lied about her age and started making films. I can't really say that I watched her decline, because I never really knew her when she was anything other than a shell of a person. She could be fun and vivacious when she wanted to be, but those times became few and far between as I became a teenager. Thankfully, my dad was a decent guy who stepped into my life fully when she died. They had had a three-month affair and although he could have tried to deny me based on what my mom did for a living, when she told him she was pregnant with me, he never tried to play that card. I think he had truly and honestly tried to take care of her, but she just wasn't in a place to let him do that. But he took me in and he gave me the stability I had never had. He was a good man… he passed away two years ago from lung cancer."

I couldn't even utter a word. I was so shocked by Courtney opening up to me like this.

"Anyway," she went on, "you can probably put two and two together about why I started this website. A lot of undignified, soul-stealing stuff goes on in this business. And this is a business that attracts people who are the least likely to be able to deal with that kind of thing to begin with." She studied me for a minute. "I started my site because I wanted to inject some heart into a business that's sorely lacking in that. True, the people in my videos are virtual strangers. But I think that showing sex as a natural expression of our physical selves, while also showing that it doesn't have to be degrading to either party is the best I can hope to accomplish here. If porn is always going to exist, and I believe it will, then I want to be responsible for doing it in a way that respects the fact that none of us is only our body–all of us have a heart and a soul, and they can't be separated." She smiled big. I was still trying to keep up.

"What I'm trying to say, is that I'm a fan of love." She laughed softly and rifled through some papers on her desk, choosing one from the pile.

"Now, Carson, from what I recall, we made a change to your contract that amended it to be six months instead of two years. You remember initialing that change, right?" She looked pointedly at me.

"Uh, yeah, I do?" Courtney lowered her chin and looked up at me through her dark lashes. "Yeah, I do," I said more confidently.

"Good. Then according to my calendar," she flipped her desktop calendar back a couple pages, "your contract ran out last week. Good luck in your next endeavor, Carson Stinger. It's been real."

I stared at her. She stared back. I stood up and rubbed my palms on my jean-clad thighs. "Courtney, I don't know how to–"

"Take care of yourself, Carson," she said, not rising from her seat. "And take your cashier's check. If you don't, I'll tear it up."

Right. I picked up the check and stuck it in my pocket. "Courtney. Thank you. You take care of yourself too."

"Oh, I intend to." She smiled at me.

I nodded my head and moved slowly to her door. I looked back once as I put my hand on the handle but she sat unmoving. I nodded at her and opened the door and left.

CHAPTER 15

Two months later, August

Grace

I pulled up in front of my childhood home and smiled to myself. I was tired from having made the eight-hour drive from D.C. to Ohio, but seeing the house gave me a burst of energy. I already knew exactly where my dad was sitting inside that brick Cape Cod–in his ratty, brown recliner in front of the TV, the one he would never give up no matter how much my sisters and I begged him to upgrade. One year, when my sister Audrey was eleven and taking sewing classes, she sewed a slipcover for it with little yellow daisies all over it. My dad looked like he was going to blow a gasket when he saw it, but then he glanced at my sister looking about ready to burst with pride over the perfect fit she had accomplished, and he sat down in it and said, "Well Audrey Bug, I didn't know anything could make this chair more comfortable, but I think you've done it." Then he made a big show of adjusting himself just right and laying his head back with a satisfied smile. Yeah, my dad was a good guy.

"Dad?" I yelled, unlocking the door and walking inside.

He came out of the living room smiling. "Well, look at you Gracie." He kissed me on the cheek. "Law school must be agreeing with you. You look good."

"Thanks, Dad. It is." I smiled.

"How was the drive?"

"Not bad. I listened to a couple books on tape so it went by quickly."

"Books on tape, GPS…" He scoffed. "Pretty soon people will have no reason to learn to read a book or a map. I'm telling you."

I rolled my eyes. "You should try it, Dad, you might change your mind."

He took my small suitcase and brought it into the living room where we sat down. Fall classes started in a week, and I had driven home to visit my dad and my sisters between summer classes ending and the new semester beginning. I only had a couple days, but I missed them. I missed home.

"Jules and Audrey aren't here?" I asked.

"No, they'll be home soon. They both out of class at five."

I nodded. My sisters were both in college, Audrey at Wright State studying to be a teacher, and Julia was in school at a local hospital where they offered a program to put you through school if you signed a contract to work there for a couple years after you graduated. I was proud of both of them. They both did well in school and worked during the summer to help with the tuitions.

I stood up. "Can I get you something? I'm gonna get some iced tea."

"Yeah, grab me a beer. Thanks."

I went in the small kitchen and grabbed a can of Budweiser out of the refrigerator, the same beer my dad had been drinking for as long as I could remember. I poured myself a glass of iced tea and returned to the living room, handing my dad his can.

He popped it open and took a drink and said, "So tell me about your classes, Gracie."

I took a long drink of my tea. "Actually, Dad, I have something to talk to you about," I said nervously.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, eyeing me.

"Yes." I took a deep breath. "The thing is, I changed my law focus." I looked away, taking another huge gulp of tea.

When I looked up, my dad was looking at me seriously. "Okay. What'd you change it to?"

I laughed nervously. "Well, I know how you feel about the criminal court system, I know you have a lot of experience–"

"Gracie, spit it out."

I looked down. "I decided that I want to work in the prosecutor's office." Silence. After a couple seconds, I raised my lashes and looked at my dad. He had a small frown on his face and his lips were pursed. My heart sunk. I had worked my whole life to avoid that look, my whole life. I almost took it back, right then and there. I almost spit out, just kidding! But then for some reason, Carson's face came into my head, smiling at me, encouraging me. I knew it was my own mind conjuring up his image, but it comforted me anyway, spurred me on. Be brave, Grace.

"Gracie, you have no idea the things I've seen, the side of humanity you'll see if you get into criminal law. I just want to protect you from that. Plus, you don't make any money working in the D.A.'s office. Corporate law is a good, safe field of law, you'll make a good salary, and you won't take your work home with you every day of your life."

I looked down, frowned, took a deep breath and looked back up. "The thing is, I'm tired of being safe all the time," I whispered, looking him straight in the eye. "I'm tired of doing things because they make sense for everyone else except me." My voice hitched on the last word and my eyes swam. I looked down, unable to keep eye contact. I looked back up at him haltingly after a second.

My dad sighed and then studied me for long minutes, looking for something in my face, but I wasn't sure what. Finally he said, "I only ever wanted my girls to be happy. You think this is going to make you happy, then that's all I need. I just never wanted you to be jaded and bitter like your old man."

I let out a short laugh and then sniffled, my tears mixing with my laughter. "You're not jaded and bitter."

He sighed. "In some ways, yeah I am. I accept that. And Gracie, I'm sorry I never made it clear to you that your happiness was important to me. You stepped right in and started taking care of this family when your mom left. I saw it and I let you do it, and that probably wasn't fair to you."

"No, Dad," I said quickly, shaking my head, "I wanted to do that. It made me feel like I was doing something to make things better for everyone. Better for you."

"You were darlin', but I should have made that more my job, than yours. It was too much pressure for a kid. And you always put enough pressure on yourself as it was. Go make yourself happy, Gracie. No one knows better than me that you gotta grab at it and hold on tight when it comes your way. Might not come again."

I let out another little sob and launched myself at him, almost tipping that damn flower covered recliner right over. We weren't big on physical affection in my house, but I just couldn't contain myself in that moment. I loved my dad so much. It was like a ten-ton weight had been lifted off my chest. And as it turned out, I had been the one who had let it sit there all that time. I hugged him tightly and after a minute, he wrapped his arms around me too and we sat like that for a while, me whispering, "Thank you, Dad," in his ear.

"What the HELL are you doing to my dad?" I heard screeched from the living room doorway. I sat up and laughed.

"I'm hugging him, you nutjob," I said to my sister, Julia, smiling and getting up. She was grinning too. "Hi, big sis," she said, hugging me to her and squeezing me tight. My dad wasn't real big on the physical affection, but us girls made up for it with each other. We were each other's anchors, each other's comfort.

"God, you make me feel short," I said, looking up at her beautiful face. Julia was blonde like me, but she had gotten our dad's height and towered over me at 5'9". I was insanely jealous of her long legs and supermodel figure. She could and did eat anything she wanted.

"Audrey should be right behind–" Julia started to say, just as I heard the door slam and Audrey's voice call out, "Helooooo!" A brunette head peaked around the doorway and Audrey's pretty grin lit up her face. Audrey had gotten my mom's side of the family's height like me, but had brown hair like my dad. She was adorable in every way–I had practically raised her when Andrew died and my mom had checked out. I considered myself almost more of an aunt to her than a sister.

She ran in the room and launched herself at me, practically toppling me over as we both laughed and jumped up and down.

My dad cleared his throat.

All three of our heads whipped over to him.

"Do you girls mind? Jeopardy comes on in five minutes and I can't hear it over all the clucking."

I started moving first. "Of course! Here, you sit down." I pushed him into his daisy-covered recliner and handed him the beer that he had sat down on the table next to him before I had launched myself into his lap, and I turned the TV on the right channel.

I looked back at Julia and Audrey and they were both rolling their eyes at me as I went about making our dad as comfortable as possible. Well, whatever, some habits were hard to break. He was my dad. I took care of him. That's what I did. I threw an afghan over his legs and grabbed my small suitcase and all of us girls ran up the stairs, pushing and giggling.

We went into my old bedroom and Audrey and Julia flopped down on my bed as I opened my suitcase and started putting clothes into the dresser drawers.

"So what's new chickadees?" I asked.

Silence. I looked over at them and they were shooting looks back and forth. I put my hands on my hips. "What?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Julia has something to tell you," Audrey offered, grinning broadly.

My eyes swung to Julia who was looking at me nervously. "Yeah?" I let the word drag out, raising my eyebrows.

She started picking at an invisible thread on the hem of her sweater. "Well, the thing is, I kinda met someone."

I raised one eyebrow. "As in a boy?" I asked.

She nodded her head, smiling up at me. "Yes, a boy–"

"Well that's not all. Tell her the big news," Audrey said and Julia shot her a warning look.

I sat down on the bed with them. "Julia, just spit it out," I said, throwing my arms up in the air and letting them fall.

"I'm not a virgin anymore," she blurted out. "I'm de-virginized. I'm a woman!" she finished, giving me a small, nervous laugh.

"The cherry is popped," Audrey offered reverently.

I looked back and forth between them. "You were nervous to tell me, Jules?" I asked on a small frown.

"Well, no, I mean, a little, it's just," she took a deep breath, "yes, I was nervous to tell you." She took my hand. "You've just always been kinda like a mom to us and face it, you're kinda straight-laced, Gracie. I mean, are you a virgin? We talk about everything, but you've never talked about sex with us. At least not on a personal level. You've just always been so driven, so focused on other things…"

I stared at her, thinking. We joked about sex. We made references to sexiness, and hot guys, stuff like that, but I guess she was right. I had never talked about sex on a personal level. I had never really gone to parties or dated boys much in high school and so there really wasn't anything to talk about there. I had never told anyone, except Carson, about my guy plan. That stupid plan that didn't even exist anymore.

I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, girls. You're right. I haven't been a good older sister in that category. I should have been more open with you. I just… I had all these dumb ideas, that up until a couple months ago, I didn't even know were dumb ideas. I probably needed the talk more than either of you. It's just, without Mom here…I never…I've treated you both like babies, I'm sorry." I huffed out a breath and shook my head.

"No, Grace, we're not trying to make you feel badly. You've always taken care of us. We love you for that. We just didn't know how you'd react to this kind of specific information." Audrey gestured her head toward Julia.

I grabbed Audrey's hand and squeezed it, and then looked at Julia. "Who is he, sweetie?"

She grinned, her eyes sparkling. "His name is Evan and he works at the hospital. In administration. He's twenty-two. We've been dating for three months and I'm in love, Grace. Truly in love. He treats me like a princess–like I'm the most precious thing on the planet," she finished dreamily, flopping back on the bed.

Audrey rolled her eyes. "You're really not sorry you missed all the gushing over the last few months, Grace. It's been truly vomitous."

I laughed. "So, did you… enjoy it?" I asked.

Julia propped herself up on her elbows. "The sex?" She bit her lip. "Well, we've only done it a couple times so far, and… well, no, not really. I mean, I'm sure that's kinda normal…" She frowned, looking over at Audrey.

Audrey raised her hands. "Don't look at me. I'm untouched. Pure. I don't know what to tell you other than you could be broken in some way."

I laughed, but Julia narrowed her eyes at Audrey.

"You're not broken, Jules. The first couple times usually aren't that good. It gets better, I promise. And if you're with the right person–which hopefully you are–it can be incredible. Beyond incredible."

I looked over at them and they were both staring at me. I laughed again. "Okay, girls, we need to talk, and I think I have something to tell you that will make up for the years and years of sex-talk repression in this house. Settle in and buckle up," I said seriously, biting my lip with nervousness. I laid down on my side and propped my head up on my hand and started talking, wondering if I'd get through the story this time without crying because I still missed him so damn much that even two months later, I got emotional saying his name. "So you know that conference I went to a couple months ago…"

Carson

"I still can't believe you enlisted in the NAVY, you crazy motherfucker!" Dylan yelled from the kitchen as he grabbed us both a beer.

I chuckled. "You and me both, bro."

Dylan came back in the room and handed me my beer, and sat down on the other couch, studying me over his bottle as he took a long sip and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "You gonna tell your mom you're taking off?" He eyed me warily.

"Nah, you know what happened the last time I was over there. I'll send her a postcard if I make it to SEAL training in Coronado."

He nodded. He had seen me, or rather, my busted lip after I had gone to see her the last time and gotten into it with her current boyfriend and he sucker punched me like the douche he was.

"So," he said, taking a pull on his beer and obviously changing the subject, "you ever gonna tell me about this girl you spent a weekend with and changed your whole life for?"

I laughed. "I didn't change my whole life for her, dude."

"Uh, yeah, you kinda did man. What kind of pussy voodoo did she cast on you?"

"Funny. No, I meant, I'm not making all these changes because of Grace. I'll most likely never even see her again." I paused as the pain in that statement washed over me. I had thought about contacting her and letting her know my plans. But what if I failed? No. I needed to actually accomplish something before I let Grace know. "I just realized it's time, that's all. I can't do porn forever, man. It was time for me to come up with some kind of life plan, some direction at least."

Dylan nodded. "I can't disagree. I mean, as badass as it was to have women porn stars showing up at our house parties." He grinned. "Not that there's been any partying going on here lately, you monk."

I chuckled, but then I grew serious, putting my hands behind my head and leaning back on the couch. "Man, I might be right back here next year. Do you know what a long shot this is going to be?"

Dylan studied me. "Nah, you won't be."

"No, seriously, the odds are not in my favor when it comes to becoming a SEAL."

"How do you figure?" Dylan asked, taking another sip of his beer.

"Dude, I explained the whole twenty percent thing, I explained about all the insanely talented athletes that try out every year and don't make it–"

"Yeah, you did, but here's how I see it. It doesn't all come down to how great of an athlete you are, or how fast you can swim however many yards in the ocean while on the verge of hypothermia." He sat his beer down and took his feet off the coffee table and sat forward on the couch. "What it comes down to is how much heart you have, and how you will give this your all, not because anyone will give you accolades, but on the contrary, because no one ever has, and you don't depend on that for your success. Those guys out there who have been coddled constantly, and cheered for their whole lives, they'll be the first ones to quit when they don't have anyone to depend on but themselves. But not you–because you've never known any different. And that sucks. But in this case, it's your strength. It's your ace in the hole. I'd bet on you, Carson Stinger."

He picked up his beer and sat back and kicked his feet up on the coffee table again as I stared at him, not knowing what to say. "Did I tell you I was making a career change too? Motivational Speaking. Don't all line up at once, people."

I burst out laughing.

Dylan grinned, but then went serious. "Meant every word of it, bro."

"I know you did, man, I know." I held up my bottle in cheers to him.

CHAPTER 16

Eight months later, April

Grace

I sat in the semi-darkness, staring at the horizon, hearing the bird conversations begin all around me. I smiled as the yellow glow in the distance hit my eyes. It was like those birds knew moments before the glory of the sunrise would appear and were singing its welcoming praises. I sat there until the full, round sun had fully emerged from beyond the horizon. I thought of Carson, as I always did when I watched the sun rise. I wondered where he was. I wondered if he was happy. But I didn't let myself wonder any more than that, still couldn't let myself wonder any more than that.

I continued on my run along the C&O Canal with the other early morning joggers and when I was done, I drove home and took a quick shower. I needed coffee. I guess I'd never really be a morning person. But I made it a priority to set my alarm to run outdoors rather than on the treadmill, so that I could watch the sun rise as often as I could. I'd missed too many of them already.

I'd be graduating law school at the beginning of the summer and the next two months were going to be jam packed with studying and test taking. Plus, I'd been applying for jobs in D.C., hoping to get a position in the prosecutor's office. I was filled with excitement to see where life would take me now that I was headed in a direction I had chosen for no other purpose than I wanted it. I put the coffee on to brew and went about starting my day.

Carson

"Get your dicks out of the dirt shitbags!" Instructor Wegman yelled. Holy mother of Christ, every muscle in my body was screaming out in pain. We had been at this for almost five hours straight now, our punishment for failing a knife inspection during our first week of SEAL Training. We had been about to do an ocean swim and the instructors came around to inspect our gear, an inflatable vest, Co2 cartridge and Ka-Bar knife. When Instructor Flynn had rubbed my knife on his arm hair, he had looked up at me and yelled, "FAIL!" Fuck me. By the end of inspection, seven other men and I were told to join the instructors at the Grinder–our workout area–at ten p.m.

I was already worn completely out from a day of brutal workouts that started at five a.m. We had begun with a Grinder PT, a four-mile timed run in our boots and pants, in the soft sand, which we were expected to do in thirty-two minutes or less, we ran sand dunes, and then we did a two thousand meter swim, and that was only before lunch.

But there wasn't a choice. All eight of us had lined up shoulder to shoulder as the instructors stood before us, looking at us disgustedly. "If you can't even be trusted to take care of a piece of equipment, how the fuck are we supposed to trust you with our lives in the field, shitbags?" We stood silently as the instructors berated us, telling us what fuck-ups we were. That was okay. At least it was a small break.

But then the beating had started. They had told us to run to the surf, get wet, and run back in two minutes. When we got back, Instructor Wegman had looked at his timer and shook his head. "Two minutes, ten seconds, shitbags. For every second you're late past two minutes, you do that number of eight-count body-builders." And so we had done our ten body-builders and then ran back to the surf again to try to do it in less than two minutes. The second time, it had been two minutes, and twelve seconds. So we did twelve, eight-count body-builders. Each time, we took longer and longer, our bodies physically unable to pick up speed in our exhaustion. This had been going on for five hours. We were now doing sixty, eight-count body builders, barely able to move, limping back from the water each time, wanting to crawl.

As my legs buckled beneath me on the way to the water, a guy next to me grabbed onto my waist and pulled me up. "Whoa, steady. I got ya. Take it slow and give it a minute to recoup in the water. There's no way we'll make it back in under two anyway. Let's just try to make it back."

I gave my legs a minute to stop shaking and continued on with him toward the surf. "Thanks, man," I groaned out, grimacing as bolts of pain shot up both legs.

"My first name's Noah."

I nodded. I only knew him by his last name, Dean. "Carson."

Noah muttered, "Fucking hell," as he dunked himself in the cold, nighttime ocean water and then stood up and closed his eyes for a minute, unmoving, letting his body rest. I followed suit and after a few seconds, we turned and started moving toward the shore again, this time our teeth chattering, shivering with cold. It was fucking miserable.

"I can't do this anymore," I ground out, my jaw unwilling to move it was shaking so hard.

"I bet you said that three hours ago, too," Noah ground out. "I know I did. And yet, turned out we were wrong because here we are, still doing it."

My face twisted into something maybe resembling a smile as we limped up the shore back toward the Grinder for another set of body-builders. Maybe a hundred this time.

I stumbled away slightly as a classmate next to me vomited onto the beach.

"Shitbags, don't fail knife inspection again," Instructor Flynn said, getting up from the platform the instructors had been sitting on watching us all night. We were dismissed.

As we started limping away, Instructor Flynn said, "Hold up. Before you go in, clean up all this sand you got all over the PT area."

An hour later, we limped inside to sleep for an hour before morning PT would start. As Noah turned to go toward his room, I said, "Hey, thanks again."

Noah just nodded, giving me his own version of something resembling a smile.

When I pulled myself out of bed an hour later, feeling like I had fallen off a cliff and hit every jagged rock on the way down, I thought to myself, there is no fucking way I can do this for another day. How the hell am I going to make it through Hell Week when I can't even make it through one brutal punishment for one night? Hell Week was going to be five days and nights like the one I'd just endured, probably much, much worse, on zero sleep. I was losing it from only having an hour of rest. How would I make it a full week with no sleep, and being tortured constantly? From what I heard, by Friday, most men were delirious and swollen so badly, they were asked not to go out in public. I simply wasn't cut out for this. It was a wrap.

I limped outside intending to ring the bell. In that moment, nothing seemed more important than getting back in bed and trying not to move. I felt half-crazed with pain and exhaustion.

As I stepped outside, the sun was just breaking over the horizon of the Pacific Ocean in front of me. I stood still, my eyes trained on that small sliver of brilliant orange. I closed my eyes and pictured Grace standing in front of me, my arms around her as we had gazed out at the same picture. Grace. An energy shot through me, giving me the smallest burst of strength, just enough to turn back around and walk inside, away from the bell and toward the showers.

CHAPTER 17

Fourteen Months Later, June

Grace

I moved a pile of mail aside, making room on the counter for the takeout salads I had just picked up for Abby and me.

She sat down on the barstool next to me and started opening and arranging her food.

I picked up the glass of ice water in front of me and held it up. "To Brian passing the Bar Exam!" I said. "And the fact that he'll now be able to support you in a style to which you'd like to become accustomed."

Abby grinned and held up her own water, clinking mine softly. "To Brian. Thank God, all that studying is over and I get my fiancé back. I mean, unless your work hours are any indication, and then, never mind. Nothing will change."

I laughed, shaking my head. "I'm not that bad," I said.

"Yeah you are," she disagreed. "But luckily I don't have to live with you for very much longer," she winked, teasing me.

"Haha. You're gonna miss me," I said, taking a bite of salad. "But you picked a good one, you know that, right?" I said, nodding my head toward her solitaire engagement ring.

She sighed and smiled. "I know. He's a keeper. I mean as long as he doesn't piss me off in some 'toothpaste cap' kind of way, this should work out."

I laughed.

Abby and Brian had gotten engaged at Christmas time, and were getting married in September. Next week was the big move-out weekend for all of us. I had found a great apartment in the U Street Corridor area and although I was a little nervous to be living by myself for the first time in my life, I was excited too.

The last piece to fall into place was Brian finding out the day before that he had passed the Bar Exam. We were all going out later to a celebratory dinner.

"Now," Abby went on, "all we need to do is find you a great guy who doesn't leave the toothpaste cap off."

"Oh no. Uh uh. I'm too busy to date. Don't even think about some weird set up. My job barely leaves me enough time to go to the grocery store on a regular basis. I hardly have time for a guy." I speared a cherry tomato and brought it to my mouth.

I had gotten my first job in the D.C. prosecutor's office and was working in juvenile court. It wasn't necessarily exactly what I wanted to be doing, and I was looking to work my way up. But as of now, there were no other positions and very low turnover in the other courts. I knew I was lucky to be in the office I had strived to be in, and so I worked hard to make a good name for myself.

I looked over at Abby and she was studying me. "You still think of him?"

"Who?" I asked, knowing exactly whom she was referring to.

"You know who. Don't try to give me that," Abby snorted.

I put my fork down and turned to her at the counter, tilting my head. I couldn't lie to Abby about this. I took a deep breath. "Yeah. But it's not a bad thing, Abs. It doesn't hurt. I just… wonder how he is sometimes. I wonder what he's doing. I wonder if he ever thinks of me."

Abby studied me. "As long as he's not the real reason you've apparently sworn off all men since you returned from Vegas two years ago."

I let out a brittle laugh. "I haven't sworn off all men. I went out on that date with the guy from my law class that I ran into last year."

Abby raised an eyebrow. "Grace, you grabbed coffee with him when you saw him on the street and you wouldn't even let him pay for yours."

I huffed out a breath. "We flirted, Abby. It was date-ish."

"Grace, he told you you looked nice and you said he looked well too. That is not flirting, babe. I had that same conversation with my Grandpa when I saw him last month. You gave me the details. Don't try to make it look like something it wasn't now."

I frowned at her. "Anyway, it's not about swearing off men. You know I didn't date much even before I met… before I went to Vegas. I'm just busy. Really, Abby, that's the only reason. I'm not closed off. If I meet someone who really appeals to me, I'll make an exception, okay? I promise. Don't worry about me."

"So the super hunk who lives downstairs doesn't appeal to you? Because you certainly appeal to him."

I thought about that. "No, he's too… super hunky."

Abby raised an eyebrow. "And the really cute guy who asked you out at Happy Hour at Marvin last month wasn't your type either?"

"Abby! Seriously. Really. Not closed off. The right guy will come along, I'm just waiting for that… certain something. I'll know it when I find it. When I find him."

She looked at me with narrowed eyes for a second, but then took a deep breath and said, "Okay. If you say so. Anyway, do you mind if Brian gets here a few minutes before I do tonight? He had to put in a few hours at the office today and was gonna come straight here from work, but he'll be off a little before me. I could only get the last couple hours off from the restaurant."

Abby was working as executive chef in the restaurant of a big hotel downtown. She had completely re-vamped the menu and the profit margin had soared. I was really proud of her.

I shook my head. "No, of course, that's fine. I'll be getting ready. He knows where the remote is."

Abby smiled. "Okay, he'll call you when he's almost here. He wants to give you a huge hug for all the study help. We both really appreciate it."

I waved my hand, dismissing her remark. "I barely did anything. I just gave him some pointers as someone who had already taken it."

Abby shook her head. "Not true. He's grateful and so am I."

I smiled over at her. Truly, I was bursting with pride that he had passed it on his first try–not because I took any responsibility for that, but because Brian was like a brother to me and I wanted good things for him and Abby.

Abby threw her napkin and plastic fork inside the Styrofoam container and stood up, carrying it to the trash. "All right, I'm off. See you tonight. I'll be home about seven. Reservations are at eight." She grabbed her purse and coat and headed for the door.

"Bye, Abs!" I called. I continued eating my lunch, placing my fork down and pushing it aside after a couple minutes. I took a deep breath, putting my elbows on the counter and resting my face in my hands. I shivered slightly as a strange feeling swept over me, the particles in the air almost seeming to change direction, as if something nearby had disrupted them. I closed my eyes and let Carson's face come to me, clear and present in my mind's eye. I didn't let myself linger on the thought of him often. But for some reason, in that moment, I indulged myself because I felt him so strongly, almost as if he was in the room with me.

After a few minutes, I forced myself to stand up and clean up my lunch, and then I went about my Saturday.

Carson

I sat back in the cab and watched the sights of D.C. stream by. I had never been to D.C. and as much as I'd like to explore the city, my mind was focused elsewhere right now. My mind was focused on Grace. My heart thundered in my chest. This could be a really good idea, or a really bad idea. I had looked her up on whitepages.com and found her address–but her number had been unlisted. So now I was just going to show up and hope like hell she wanted to see me as much as I wanted to see her.

As I stared out the cab window, I rubbed my hand over my short, military-style haircut and I thought of everything I'd been through in the past year and a half. I thought of Hell Week, how I had somehow, impossibly, survived that miserable five days, consisting of the most hellish simulated conditions that would assure the Navy that they were sending men into the field that would never quit, no matter how much misery and pain was thrown at them, no matter how delirious they were from lack of sleep. I was one of those men. I was still trying to wrap my own head around that.

Noah Dean and I had helped each other through that week. I didn't know if I could have done it without his encouragement. But it also had to do with Grace, and I knew that too. Noah told me afterwards that he had gone meal to meal–knowing if he could just survive long enough to make it to the next meal, he'd have that time where he sat in a warm cafeteria with food in front of him, before he faced the torturous conditions again. I understood that. But I hadn't gone meal to meal. I had gone sunrise to sunrise, that bright light breaking over the horizon, the motivation that kept me from giving up. The thought of Grace in my arms spurring me on, even in the midst of the worst physical trial I could have ever imagined.

Dylan was the first person I had called that Friday afternoon when we were secured, and received the brown shirts that meant we had made it through Hell Week. "Not surprised, buddy," he had said, and I could hear the emotion in his voice.

I had finished BUD/S twenty-four weeks later, was assigned to SEAL Team Two, went to SEAL Tactical Training and finally, finally, earned my Trident. I had done it.

And now I was deploying to Afghanistan with my platoon on my first assignment. Anything could happen. The only person I wanted–no needed, to see before I left was Grace. I wanted to let her know that she had inspired me to do this, that I had accomplished something I was proud of. I didn't know what her life looked like now, but I needed to tell her that I still missed her, even after all this time.

I only had a day and a half, but I had arranged it so that I could fly into D.C. before I met back up with my platoon and we all flew out together.

The cab pulled to a stop and the driver told me that the address I had given him was just across the street. Grace's address. I paid him and hopped out, and then stood looking at the brick building on the other side of the two lane, divided street, rubbing my hands on my pants, nerves suddenly assaulting me.

Just as I started to walk to the light at the intersection a couple hundred feet from where I was, my eyes caught sight of a girl exiting Grace's building. A petite, blonde girl wearing jeans and a light blue t-shirt. I stopped walking and stared. Grace. My heart started beating triple time and adrenalin shot through my body. I watched her for a second, about to call out to her when I saw her grin down the street and start walking quickly toward someone. I swiveled my head and saw a man walking quickly to her, my heart sinking as he met her on the sidewalk and picked her up and swung her around as she threw her head back and laughed. "Fuck," I whispered to myself, a lump forming in my throat. She had a boyfriend. And why wouldn't she?

I watched them as they walked back to her apartment, arm in arm, laughing and chatting. They entered the building and the doors closed slowly behind them as I hung my head.

I guess I could charge in there after her, but what would be the point? I was leaving the country tomorrow, and she was involved with someone else. Nothing would come of me disrupting her life right now. Still, it fucking hurt and I felt all the hope I had had at the thought of seeing Grace, crumble around me. Thinking about what they might be doing inside that apartment right now made me cringe. God, even after all this time, I felt like she belonged to me. "Fucking stupid," I whispered to myself.

There had to be a bar in the area. And a willing woman. Or was that me reverting back to my old habits as a way to cope? Probably. But fuck, everyone was weak sometimes. I had just seen the girl I had thought about for two years straight, go inside her apartment with her boyfriend. Everyone had a breaking point. I was pretty sure this was mine.

I spotted a cab coming toward me and waved it down. Mission Fail.

CHAPTER 18

Six Months Later, December

Grace

The branches of the tree tickled my nose and I giggled as I scooted a little to the left to be closer to Julia. It was midnight, now officially Christmas, and my sisters and I were laying under the Christmas tree, staring up through the branches at the white twinkle lights–our tradition. We would sneak down after Dad had put our presents out and we would put our gifts to him under the tree, and then lie underneath it, talking until we were so sleepy that we couldn't keep our eyes open.

"I think Evan's going to propose today," Julia whispered.

"What?" I whispered back. "Jules, oh my God! Are you sure?" I whispered back a little louder than her.

"Pretty sure." I could hear the smile in her voice. "He confirmed the time he was going to get here this morning about fifteen times, and I saw the name of a jewelry store on a receipt in his car a couple days ago, right before he snatched it up and stuck it in his pocket."

"He could have just gotten you a necklace or something for Christmas," Audrey offered.

"Maybe, but I just have a gut feeling," Julia sighed.

"Me too, actually," Audrey said. "That boy is crazy about you. I'm surprised it took him this long."

I found Julia's hand next to me and squeezed it. "I'm so happy for you, Jules. He's a really great guy."

"Yeah," she sighed happily, "he really is."

After a minute of silence, I said, "God, I'm really going to be an old maid now."

Audrey giggled. "At twenty-five? I think you might have a few good years left in ya, sis, not to worry."

I shook my head, the branches tickling my nose again with my movement. "My eggs are drying up as we speak."

"Oh stop," Julia said. "Anyway, if you want to meet someone, you have to actually leave your apartment for more than work. From what you've told us, that's the only place you go!"

I sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I get enough of that from Abby. I'm just too tired by the end of the day to want to do anything except collapse on my couch."

After another minute of silence, Audrey asked, "Any more wild porn star weekends you haven't told us about? Not that I could take it if there were–you really turned my world upside down with that story." I could hear the smile in her voice though.

"Ha ha. You and me both. No. That was a one-time thing. Promise." I bit my bottom lip, wondering where Carson was celebrating Christmas.

I changed the subject. "Andrew would be twenty-four this year," I said quietly.

"Yeah," both girls said at once and we were all quiet for another minute.

"Ready?" I asked and started scooting out from beneath the tree.

Both girls followed suit and we sat up next to the tree, each of us grabbing the small box we had brought down, the second part of our tradition, our way of keeping our brother alive in our hearts.

I opened mine first. "Andrew was always a really good student. I said two years ago that I thought he'd be starting grad school. This year, I think he'd be graduating." I smiled and showed them the ornament with a small graduation cap and diploma. There were several like it on the tree indicating other graduations he would have celebrated.

Julia went next, opening her box. "Well, I said two years ago that I thought he'd follow in Dad's footsteps and go to the police academy after graduation. I think this year, he'd have gotten his first award for bravery in the line of duty." She grinned and so did we. She hung her ornament, a gold medal with the word, 'Congratulations' above it.

We both looked at Audrey, and she took her ornament out and held it up, a couple in wedding attire. "I think there would have been two weddings for our family this year," she said, tears in her eyes. We all hugged each other and shed a few tears and after a few minutes, we lay back down under the tree and continued whispering until our eyes were heavy and we dragged ourselves back up to bed.

Carson

It was Christmas day, the shortest day of the year in Afghanistan. It was six o'clock in the evening and already pitch black outside, the sounds of the winter night desert picking up all around us. Four other SEAL's and I were sitting on the dirt floor of an abandoned cave in the mountains outside Kabul.

Noah Dean, my buddy since SEAL training, and the quietest of us all, had been assigned to the same platoon. When Noah spoke up, we all listened, knowing that if he took the time to say something, it was gonna be important. And there was Josh Garner from Dallas, a cocky shit-talker on the outside, but a man you could trust with your life if it became necessary. I knew that, because on several occasions, it had become necessary. Also, Leland McManus, our lieutenant, the son of a casino tycoon from Las Vegas, and Eli Williams who we nicknamed, "Preacher," because he was always saying some profound shit, even though he liked to talk smack as much as the rest of us.

We had just opened our MRE's and were "enjoying" what was our Christmas feast. Josh held up a spoonful of what looked like beef stew and stuck it in his mouth. "Cheers, assholes, Merry Fucking Christmas," he said through his mouthful.

We all snickered and then raised our instant coffee up to each other. "Merry Christmas," was mumbled all around.

"God!" Eli moaned out, leaning his head back, "This is better than my mama's turkey and gravy!"

"Your mama must cook like shit then," Leland offered up.

Eli nodded over at him. "Yeah, I gave that one to ya, didn't I, asswipe? Merry Christmas. Consider that your gift."

Noah and I both shook our heads, me chuckling softly and Noah smiling.

"First thing I'm gonna do when I get back to the US of A is get myself the biggest, juiciest cheeseburger–maybe two," I said, looking suspiciously at the fruit dish.

"First thing I'm gonna do is get myself the biggest, juiciest pussy–maybe two," Josh said, spooning some rice into his mouth.

Eli made a disgusted sound.

Josh looked over at him. "What? Don't tell me that just because you're married, you're looking forward to getting home to your wife so you can engage her in a good game of checkers?"

Eli chuckled. "No, but I don't talk about making love to my wife in vulgar terms. You'll see, intimacy with a woman you're in love with is the ultimate experience. You have no idea, you sorry fucker."

Josh was silent for a beat, a horrified expression on his face. "Man. That's… that's beautiful. You know, when we get back home, there's this play that would probably pay big bucks for that speech. It's called 'The Vagina Monologues.' You might wanna look into that."

We all laughed, even Eli, but he finished it with a "Fuck you, bro."

"I just might… pretty mouth on you, all that 'making love' talk. We could put on some Sade, talk about our feelings–"

BOOM! We all startled and went silent, looking around at each other and starting to gesture with our hands and eyes about what moves to make.

Gunfire erupted not too far away and we all dropped our meals and went for our weapons. It was on.

CHAPTER 19

One year, seven months later, July

Grace

"Crap!" I swore, as the bottom dropped out of the box of books I was carrying down the hallway to my new office, as books landed on the carpeted floor with a loud thud.

I put the now empty cardboard down on the floor, squatted down and started piling the books up so that I could carry them to my desk.

I couldn't believe I was here–in Las Vegas, Nevada again, starting my new job.

When it had become clear that moving out of the juvenile court in D.C. was going to be a long time coming, I had started half-heartedly applying to jobs in other cities. I didn't necessarily expect anything to come of it, but I had been surprised when I had heard back from the D.A. in Clark County almost immediately. After a lengthy interview process, I was offered the job of a prosecutor in the Clark County Criminal Division, serving Las Vegas. My dream job. Taking a job in Vegas felt… strange. I wasn't sure how being back in the city where I had spent a life-changing weekend was going to affect me. But I reminded myself that it wasn't like Carson lived here–he lived in Los Angeles, at least as far as I knew, he still did. But just driving past the Bellagio when I had flown in for my in-person interview caused a swarm of butterflies to take up flight in my belly. I had to believe that that reaction would fade over time, as, after all, it had been almost five years since that weekend. It was just because it was the first time I had been back and it dredged up the distant memory. That was all. Pretty soon, seeing it enough, it would just be another hotel on the strip.

It was funny being here again too because in part, this job, back in this city, was a direct reflection of that weekend with Carson–he had encouraged me to follow my own dreams, to do what made me happy. And look where I had ended up. Life was wild.

"Can I help?" a male voice asked and I looked up into a smiling pair of the bluest eyes I'd ever seen.

I smiled back and picked up one of the two piles of books I had already made, and stood up. "Thanks, that would be great," I said.

He bent down and picked up the other pile and followed me to my office, less than fifty feet down the hall. I set my pile of books on my cluttered desk and he did the same with his pile.

I turned to him and rubbed my hands on my jean-clad thighs and held one out. "Grace Hamilton," I said, smiling again.

"Ah! I've heard great things about you, Grace. Welcome aboard," he said, his handsome face breaking into a warm smile and his hand reaching out to shake mine. "I'm Alex Klein. I'm a prosecutor here too."

"Nice to meet you, Alex. I'm happy to be here." I smiled again. There was a lot of smiling going on between Alex and me. I moved a box over on my desk and looked at him. He was smiling again and I laughed and shook my head. He laughed too.

"Well, Grace, I'll leave you to the unpacking. I'm working late and was going to order a pizza in a little bit if you have time to join me for a slice or two?" He gestured down the hall to where I assumed his office was.

I turned around fully as he backed out my door. "Oh, um–"

"I could brief you on who you'll be working with around here," he smiled again, "who to get in good with and all that." He grinned.

"Okay, sure, Alex. Thank you."

"Okay, great, I'll come get you when the pizza's here." And with that, he turned around and walked back to his office. I watched him walk away, smiling slightly to myself. When he got halfway down the hall, he looked back and smiled. I laughed and turned around, grinning now as I started unpacking.

Carson

We closed in, Leland putting a finger over his lips and cocking his head to the left to indicate our target was in the next room. We all nodded and moved in, none of us making a sound. Josh counted on his fingers as we stood to each side of the door, turning as he kicked it in on three. The door flew inward and we moved in as one unit, surprising four men, holding weapons, but sitting down on chairs, their feet propped up, clearly not expecting trouble.

We fired on them before they could even raise their guns, killing them instantly.

There was another small door beyond that room and when Josh kicked that one open, we moved in and immediately took in a man cowering on the floor in the corner. "Mehran Makar?" Eli demanded.

The man narrowed his eyes, cursing, calling us dirty pigs, and Eli fired, killing him. Maybe it was cold, but I felt nothing. Our mission was complete.

We cleared the rest of the room, letting down our guard only slightly until we were confident that no one was hiding. We had been given intel that there were only four guards, but we couldn't rely on that one hundred percent until we had checked it out ourselves.

"Clear?" Noah asked, coming back in the room.

"Yeah," I said. "All clear out front?"

"Yeah. Let's check out back." There was a small building behind the larger warehouse that Leland was now covering. There was only one door and no windows, so no way for anyone to escape. But we needed to go in carefully in case someone was waiting inside.

Ten minutes later, we had the door open and had moved inside the small structure. It looked to be deserted.

Josh flicked a light switch on the wall and Leland and I sucked in a breath. Noah swore, "Holy shit," and Eli muttered, "Mother fucker."

At the back of the room, was the biggest stash of weapons I had come upon, Russian made surface to air missiles and rocket propelled grenades. It was a fucking stockpile.

"Jesus, that fucker had some serious plans," Josh said.

We all stilled as we heard a small scraping sound in the back. When I examined the back wall, I noticed a small door next to the shelves of weaponry. It almost blended into the wall.

I nodded to the other men, making sure they saw it too, and we moved in.

Noah kicked the door in this time and as Josh shined his flashlight into the pitch-black space, we all recoiled at the smell. "God damn!" Josh coughed.

The sight that met our eyes was straight out of a horror movie.

"You okay, man?" Noah asked quietly. I brought my head up from out of my arms, resting on my knees and looked up at him. "Figure I will be. You?"

His chin went up in a jerky nod. "About the same."

I nodded back, watching the other four men walk up the rocky slope toward us. "The other team will be here in about twenty minutes," Eli said.

When we had called in the night before, we had been ordered to stay with the weaponry until another team could get there to inventory it. The morning sun was already fully up in the sky.

Noah and I nodded, Noah speaking quietly, holding up his radio, "We're supposed to be at our rendezvous point in six hours."

"We'll be ready to leave as soon as the other team gets here then," Leland said, emotionless, a faraway look in his eyes that I didn't like. Even Josh was somber, patting Leland on his back as he walked by him.

Half an hour later, we had briefed the second team and were ready to leave. I stood up, hefting up my gear and securing it to my back as the other men did the same. We started walking. I only looked back once.

It had taken us longer than we thought it would to jog the distance to our rendezvous point, and we were still about an hour away when the sun started to set in the desert sky. It was the end of October when night temperatures dropped rapidly in Afghanistan. Our breath came out in short white bursts as we hiked quietly, all of us aware of our surroundings, as we were trained to be, but quiet in our own thoughts.

Suddenly, Josh, who was walking in the lead, stopped and held up his hand to indicate we stop as well. We all came to a halt, listening. When none of us heard anything, we moved forward again. A few hundred feet later, Josh halted again and we all halted as well, readying our weapons. We were trained well enough to know that one hunch based on the snapping of a stick in the desert might be dismissed, but two most definitely shouldn't be. We all moved so that our backs were to each other and circled slowly, squinting our eyes to see as far as possible in the darkening distance.

"Shit!" Leland grunted as one shot rang out and his leg buckled and he went down next to me.

The rest was a blur of gunfire, blood, explosions, and pain. So much fucking pain.

I heard someone moaning from faraway and for just a second, I was lucid, the noise exploding back into my brain as I came to and lifted my head from the ground, where somehow I had ended up.

Leland was next to me and I could see that his leg was in bad shape, part of the bone broken and protruding almost straight out of the skin. He was moaning and trying to drag himself toward me.

I went to push myself off the ground and bit my lip to stop myself from screaming out in agony, my hands were covered in blood and blisters, the skin hanging loose in several areas. A surge of adrenalin pulsed through me and I sprung to my feet and hefted Leland under his arms, bearing his weight on my forearms as I dragged him away from the gunfire that was still hitting rocks to the left of us, where I could also hear Eli, Josh and Noah yelling and returning fire. There was too much smoke for me to see what was going on. My job now was to get Leland out of the line of fire. As I moved away, I tripped on something, my body jerking strangely. I struggled to stay upright with Leland's weight in my arms and after a second, kept moving.

Leland grunted in pain as I dragged him with me, my own grunts of exertion mingling with his. I looked behind me and saw a rock big enough that I thought we could both fit behind it, and picked up speed. I rounded the rock a couple seconds later and lay Leland down and collapsed to the right of him, just as a spray of bullets took out a piece of the top of the rock, small pebbles raining down on us as we covered our heads.

Leland looked at me, pale and expressionless and passed out again. I saw more blood coming through his jacket and moved it open with my forearms. Thank God it was unzipped. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I grunted out. He had been shot in the chest too, and the blood was slowly spreading, soaking his shirt underneath. I glanced back down to my mangled hands, so swollen now, they were entirely useless. I leaned over him, putting pressure on the bullet wound with my arms, closing my eyes and picturing the only thing that brought me true calm–the sunrise. In my mind, I pictured it coming up slowly over the horizon, bathing the world around it in light, in hope.

The world swam around me. I heard the sound of a helicopter propeller and more shots rang out, followed by more yelling and another explosion, and then finally, quiet. I looked down. My arms were now entirely drenched in Leland's blood. If he lost much more, he wouldn't survive.

The helicopter landed and I heard footsteps running toward us. "Here," I called out. "He needs a medic." Why did I feel so damn cold and tired? Why did the SEAL kneeling down in front of me look like he was moving further and further back, through a long tunnel? I blinked my eyes, my head feeling heavy on my shoulders. The last thing I heard was, "He's shot too–he's going down." Who? Who was going down? The world went dark.

CHAPTER 20

Three months later, October

Grace

I looked down at the diamond on my finger, smiling a small smile, before picking up the brief that I had been working on.

A small knock sounded at my office door. "Come in!" I called.

The door opened, and Alex came in and shut it behind him. "Hey gorgeous fiancé," he said.

"Hey yourself," I said, smiling, but not getting up.

He came around my chair and put his hands on my shoulders and started massaging them as he leaned down and kissed the top of my head.

"Ahhh," I moaned out. "Don't stop, that feels great."

"You almost done here?" he asked.

I frowned. "Probably not. Another hour?"

"I'll wait. We'll grab a late dinner."

"Okay. I'll come get you when I'm done." I looked back over my shoulder, smiling up at him.

He kissed the top of my head one more time and then headed out the door, closing it behind him.

I glanced back down at my ring again. I was still getting used to seeing it there, as it had only been three days since Alex had proposed.

I leaned back in my chair, thinking of the whirlwind the last three months had been–getting settled in a new job, which I loved, and meeting Alex, my sweet Alex. We had only dated for three months, but as I had told Abby and my sisters, when you know, you know. I was twenty-seven years old. I knew what I wanted. And so when Alex dropped down on one knee during dinner at Joël Robuchon, I had immediately said yes. We hadn't set a date yet, but I was thinking a fall wedding. I looked at my ring for another minute and then I got back to work.

Carson

I threw back the last of my beer and sat it down on the bar in front of me. Leland, sitting to my right, his crutches propped up on the bar next to him, gestured to the bartender for two more bottles.

The bartender put a finger up. "Hold on, man," he said on a smile.

Leland nodded and looked over at me. "Last time I heard those words, I was on a helicopter spouting blood," he chuckled.

I laughed a humorless laugh. "Yeah. Can't say I remember much of that flight."

We were silent for a minute before the bartender put our bottles in front of us. I nodded thanks.

"So, Carson," Leland said, "have you decided if you're gonna take the medical discharge?" He looked over at me cautiously, taking a sip of his beer.

I closed my eyes for a minute. "I think I'm gonna stay," I said, thinking that I was grateful the Navy had given me the choice. Turned out, the bullet wound to my chest had just missed my heart. A centimeter to the right, and I'd have died on the spot. The burns to my hands had all but healed, except for some slight scarring in several places on my fingers and palms, but the nerve damage would take a lot longer. It would be at least a year before I could be trusted to fire a weapon properly. It'd suck to sit at the base cleaning weapons while all my buddies came and went, but that was the way it went. I had no other option.

Leland hadn't gotten so lucky. The internal injuries from the bullet wounds had been repaired, but his leg was fucked up badly enough that he'd been medically discharged, no choice. At least he hadn't lost it though. He'd always walk with a limp, but he'd walk on his own flesh and bone.

Leland nodded, looking like he was deep in thought. Finally, he looked over at me. "Would you make a different choice if you had a job, something meaningful, to go back to?" he asked.

I furrowed my brow. "I'm not worried about finding a job when I get back. Being a SEAL, having that on my résumé, I figure I could do a lot of things. I'll just have to figure out what. You have all that opportunity too, man."

He nodded. "Thing is, I have a built-in job. My father is gonna want me to run the hotel when I get back. I've been thinking a lot though, these last three months man, and I know you have too." He ran his hand through his dark hair. "Shit, about a lot of things–about you saying we needed to do something, Carson. You were the first one to say that." He was silent for another few beats as I nodded, acknowledging that I had said that, and I had meant it.

"If you'll listen to me, I might have a job offer you can't refuse," he said quietly.

I chuckled. "Already have my dream job, Leland. You know that."

He studied me for a second. "Not even for Ara?"

I froze. Now he had my attention. Ara. Sweet Ara. He knew I'd do anything for her. All the guys knew it.

"I'm listening," I said quietly, and he started talking.