I rolled to my belly, swinging my legs free of the metal bunk, and dropped to the floor. Soon, the floor was filled with Marines preparing to disembark the ship.
“Time to go home, boys,” Priest said as he and Cameron came to stand with me.
I nodded but kept silent.
Cameron patted my back and said, “Well, we know what Marin is gettingupto when his feet hit dry land, but what about the rest of you? Wanna hit up the clubs? Maybe we can get lucky and find ourselves someone who’ll send us care packages like Mr. Sergeant Marin?”
“Fuck off. Your Mom and sisters flood the ship with shit for you.”
“Yeah, but the cookies they send don’t taste like the ones you got.”
“And I told you, he says Heidi made those.”
“I’d like to hide some dee. She’s a fucking knockout.”
I rolled my eyes but still clocked the look Cameron gave Priest. Those two were always attached at the hip, but that look made me believe there was something more going on there.
I kept my eye on them throughout the day. I watched them under the guise of packing the last of my shit and taking down the photos and license I’d taped up. The more I saw, I realized how right my suspicion was. Sly glances and brushing touches passed between them. Then, there were whispered words too low for any of us to hear, with glances around the compartment to see if anyone was close enough to hear what they said.
They were together. I was sure of it. In what capacity, official or just hooking up regularly, I didn’t know, but there was something going on there. Cameron outranked Priest, but Priest wasn’t in Cameron’s line of command, so as long as their shit didn’t mess with the unit’s vibe, I didn’t give a fuck.
When the time came, we grabbed our gear and headed toward the chopper, taking those of us who’d been sent out on the recon op before the training cruise. We stopped to salute the Officer of the Day and then the National Ensign before continuing.
Looking out at the docks where the families were gathered, kids waved signs and carried balloons, jumping up and down with excitement as they looked for their loved ones. I hitched my seabag over my shoulder, walking past all the happy families, regretting not asking Declan to meet me.
I climbed onto the bird, setting my seabag between my feet. Scott, Cameron, Priest, and Lucia slid in the chopper next to me as I buckled myself in.
“Is Declan meeting you?” Priest asked.
“No. I didn’t tell him. I wanna surprise him.”
“What’ve you got planned?”
“Not a damn thing.”
“You married the man, left him with no way to contact you, and you haven’t planned anything for the surprise reunion you got cooking in that tiny brain of yours?” Lucia asked, incredulity written on her face like words on a chalkboard.
“I’ll figure something out.”
She and the guys cracked up, and Lucia said, “You are freaking clueless.”
“Yes, I believe you’ve said that before,” I retorted with a glare.
Now that we were here, the realization I fucked up hit me like a ton of bricks. I should’ve told him when we were coming back, and I hadn’t. If the situation was reversed, I’d be pissed and hurt.
I pulled my cover off and swiped my hand over my face and head before settling the cover back on my head.
We lifted off the deck, the kids on the ground pointed and waved, and I waved back. Even from this distance, you could see the excitement on their faces at the sight of the chopper taking off and their moms and dads coming home to them before the nose tilted down, and we flew toward home.
When we landed, I grabbed my gear and waved to Lucia and the guys before jumping in my car. I didn’t even bother to turn my phone on or plug it in. I was a man on a mission. And not the one I usually was when I got home from a cruise or a deployment. Typically, all I wanted was to get home and sleep in my own bed for a few hours before hitting the clubs, and then, the only thought was DRINK ON/ROCKS OFF. And that’s what I did. I drank and fucked.
Not this time.
Well, I wouldn’t mind a drink, and I definitely wanted to fuck, but I wanted that with Declan, not the nameless, easily forgotten faces I usually lost myself in when we came home. I wanted to hold him in my arms. I wanted to hear him call me Papi, and I really needed to see if my memory was playing tricks on me or if our connection was as magnetic as I remembered.
As soon as I made it through the front gates on base, I floored it. The engine roared under me, eating up the miles between base and the address on the return label. Dollar signs floated over the houses the closer I got to my destination.
When I pulled to a stop, my mouth fell open, and I deflated, my eyes closing to block out the sight screaming at me. This couldn’t be where he lived. I just couldn’t be. But I knew I was in the right place. The return address was burned into my psyche.
