There was a smile in her voice, and if there had been anyone there in the office with Nic, they’d see the smile on his face too. Sounded just like Admiral Bailey. And like an event not to be missed even though Nic usually avoided those sorts of things. “I’d be honored.”
“Invitation’s in the mail,” she confirmed.
“Lieutenant, one more thing.”
“Yes, sir?”
“I’ve had some Unknown calls from a burner that trace back to Jacksonville. I’m concerned it might be a former teammate trying to reach out.” For good or evil, he still wasn’t sure about the calls, but either way, this was an opening to learn more about them.
“Send me the details,” she said. “I’ll have someone at Lejeune check it out.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
“Have a good night, Captain.”
She hung up and Nic set the phone down, marveling at the efficiency of it all. He missed that sometimes in civilian life. He glanced down again at the papers, and when the chemical formulas swam before his eyes, he called it a night. Stuffing them back in their folder, he stood and crossed to the Beers of the World map on his office wall, swinging it open to reveal the in-wall safe behind it. He entered the code, popped open the door, and set the folder on the shelf with the other brew formulas. The call with naval admin still on his mind, he withdrew from the lower shelf the zipped leather pouch with the US Navy crest embossed on the front. It was worn, scratched, and far from the fancy display case in Eddie’s office, but it was just as special. It had arrived anonymously shortly after his commissioning, and he’d carried it throughout his service. He didn’t know who it was from—maybe his estranged father given that he’d recently learned Curtis had been keeping tabs on him—but he did know his service medals and ribbons felt at home inside it. This was where they belonged, safe and sound and only taken out on the rare occasion Nic wore his dress blues, which he’d have to do for the admiral’s retirement ceremony.
It was the least Nic could do for the man who’d rescued him from the second-lowest point of his life. Injured on a SEAL Team mission seven years into his service, he’d been knocked out of combat duty short of a full term and short of a completed college degree, which he had been slowly accumulating remote credits for. Laid up in the Naval Medical Center, he’d been out of his mind with worry and fear that he was going to have to take a medical discharge and go home. Except he didn’t have one after being disowned by his father for being gay. He’d enlisted the day after his high school graduation, never intending to go home again.
As it’d turned out, his SEAL Team XO had gone to Officer Candidate School with then-Captain Bailey of the Navy JAG Corps. Nic had driven his XO nuts with his tendency to argue, something he hadn’t stopped doing since the day he’d stood up to his father. He’d saved two lives that day, lost his first love, grown a backbone, and gotten a fist to the face from his father. No argument could end as badly as that one had. So he hadn’t stopped arguing, and he’d been good enough at it to earn a recommendation to the JAG Corps even without his college or law degree yet.
Bailey had flown out to San Diego and offered him a way to stay in the service, finish his education, and argue for a living, for the Navy and beyond.
In that “beyond,” Nic had seen the path of atonement he’d needed for the sins he’d committed before and during his service. So yeah, he could schlep across the country and put on his dress blues and ribbons for the soldier who’d saved him. And who’d just pulled some strings with the Marine Corps to help Cam’s brother.
Nic snapped the tote closed, zipped it, and secured it back in the safe.
Returning to his desk, he picked up the phone and texted Cam. Keith’s leave is extended until the end of the month.
As tired as Nic was, and as late as it was, he didn’t expect a response from Cam, who was three hours ahead and had to be even more wiped than him, but his phone vibrated in his hand before he put it back down. Thank you, read the text from Cam.
Nic was tempted to call—he wanted to hear Cam’s voice—but what kind of day had it been for him? Where was he? And what right did Nic have to take precious family time away from him, especially when Nic had been the one to take himself away for the past five weeks. How’s your mom? he texted instead.
I’ll call tomorrow.
That didn’t sound good. He started to type back but bubbles appeared, indicating Cam was typing, so he waited.
I’d call now, but . . . After a second, a picture popped up. Cam, wearing a Captain America T-shirt, was on what looked like a sofa bed surrounded by sleeping children in superhero pajamas.
Whereas Nic wasn’t a kid person, Cam was great with them. He effortlessly interacted with Aidan and Jamie’s nieces and nephews, and there was no denying he looked happy to be where he was, despite the bed being several feet too short.
There are these things called hotels, Boston.
I’ll check in tomorrow, Cam replied. Wanted to spend tonight with family.
Fuck, he’d said the complete wrong thing even if it had been in jest. How was he so good with witnesses and so dysfunctional when it came to personal relationships? Sorry, I shouldn’t have suggested?—
It’s fine, Dominic.
He circled the desk and collapsed in his chair. He should let Cam go, but he didn’t want to lose the connection yet. How are you?
Better now. He sent a smiley face, then added, Have a pint of Pils for me. Gravity’s pilsner was Nic’s favorite, the stout Cam’s.
Redwood Stout is back next month. Imperial in December.
Thank fuck. Can’t wait.
Nic took comfort in Cam’s implication that he’d be back. Would that still be the case tomorrow? He hoped so.
