“And really, it’s not likeeveryoneis hooking up.”
“Ah.” Her tone gentled, like she knew romance was painful for him.
Frank did his best to ignore the sound. Sweet, soft. Understanding.
He hated understanding sounds. Had heard enough of them for a lifetime.
But then she squared her shoulders and gestured at the milling crowd in front of them. “Are you sure about that, though? Most are pairing up—and good for them.”
“Sure, there’s some of that,” he said gruffly. But then he pointed at a pair of women at the next bench over. “But we’re not alone in dodging the meat market.”
Grace choked on whatever was going to come out of her mouth next. “Uh,” she finally said, her voice raw. “Uh…”
“What?”
She turned her head and lowered her voice, her eyes sparkling. “They’re totally hooking up, Frank. You know? With each other.”
Well, damn. “Good for them,” he muttered.
“There’s nothing wrong—”
“Jesus,” he spit out. “No, of course not. That’s not how I meant that. Love is love. I’ve had lots of gay service members serve under me. Don’t you think I have a problem with that.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Good.”
He sighed. He wasn’t great company at the best of times, and now he’d made things awkward because he couldn’t spot a lesbian at a thousand paces. “I’m going to head back to the cabin.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Have a good night.”
He wouldn’t. He didn’t, ever.
It wasn’t until he got back to his quiet, sad, empty bed that he realized he hadn’t acknowledged her frustrated good night.
* * *
Grace watched Frank stalk off,then slowly made her way to the main lodge. She needed a pot of chamomile tea. It was a stark contrast to the night before, but all in all, she’d take today over yesterday.
Tomorrow was a whole different story. She wasn’t going to spend the whole day with Frank. He didn’t need that, she didn’t want that. She needed to find something to do on her own.
She found Michael Tully behind the bar.
“What can I get you?” he asked.
“I was hoping for a pot of herbal tea.”
“Coming right up.” He lifted a tray from behind the bar and set it out for her to choose. “Pick your poison. I’ll be back with a hot water thermos in a minute.”
She looked at the options and stuck with the chamomile she’d originally wanted.
When Michael returned from the kitchen, he had an insulated thermos in one hand and a mug in the other. “You can have it here, of course, but I thought you might want to take this to go. Chamomile is nicest when you’re already tucked into bed, isn’t it?”
Grace exhaled happily. “Yes it is. Thank you.”
On her way to the exit she spied a bookshelf in the corner. A sign encouraged her to take a book, so she picked a lovely looking romance with a larger-than-life pirate on the cover.
But when she returned to the cabin, there was a larger-than-life SEAL sitting on her porch. Their porch. No reading just yet.
“I thought you were off to bed,” she said, coming to a stop in front of the steps.
