“Hey,” I gasped.
“Hmm. I’ll have to remember that.”
“Good. Now, I’m going to get dessert. Can I bring you anything?”
She stood, and Hayden scrambled to hold her chair as he said, “No, but my ears could use a break from the braying donkeys we saddled ourselves with.”
Dad and I both fell back into the hysteria we’d only just started recovering from as they walked away. As the laughter died, Dad said, “I like him. He doesn’t take any shit, and he gives as good as he gets.”
Pride and pleasure burned through me, heating my face. “Yeah. He’s something else.”
“I have a feeling he’s not fully aware of who you are, though.”
I shook my head, glancing toward where Mama and Hayden stood, talking with Brock and Lillian. I hadn’t told the family Hayden’s background or his lack of knowledge about ours, but they all seemed to understand to keep things under wraps.
“He doesn’t.”
“Son, withholding information is the same as lying, and neither one belongs in a marriage.”
“I know, Dad.”
29
HAYDEN
As everyone finished eating, people started cleaning up. I tried to help, but Gunny and I were sent to change, then relegated to a couple of chairs, handed a bucket of beer, and told cleaning wasn’t the job of the people being celebrated.
“You found yourself a good one, kid.”
“Thanks, Gunny. I think so, too.”
I tilted the beer bottle up, but it was empty. I sat it down and looked around us, picking up and discarding bottle after empty bottle. A niggling thought in the back of my head told me I needed to cut myself off, but I ignored it. The day had been fucking crazy ass stressful, and drowning my nerves was the only way I could think to get through it. Stupid, because one, I had been drinking in uniform while eating, and two, Gunny and several high-ranking men were here. No one seemed put off about the alcohol consumption. Gunny was just as glassy-eyed as I was when we were sent to change out of our Deltas. Plus, I didn’t know about Gunny, but a Navy SEAL was the one who gave me the beer. Then, once we sat down here, the vets in the group kept our beer stash from ever running dry.
“Let me clean that up,” Walker said, sitting down another bucket of beer before whisking away the other one.
Case in point.
I wanted to get Declan back to my place and deal with the boner I’d spent the afternoon fighting. The thought of fucking him silly played like a movie reel on repeat, but I’d gotten way too far gone to drive anytime soon.
A little while passed without Gunny or I saying anything. Both of us were just sitting, drinking, and watching the flurry of activity that moved the yard further away from a backyard picnic and righting it to the magazine perfectness.
Gunny leaned toward me and asked, “I ain’t ever seen a yard like this in real life.”
I chuckled at Gunny’s thicker southern accent. “Right? This place is un-fucking-real.”
The work continued, and the drinks kept flowing. Every time I thought we’d emptied the bucket, I’d look up, and the bucket was full, and the empties were gone. I didn’t know how many I drank, but when I noticed Declan coming toward me, there was one-and-a-half of him.
Wait.
Nope.
There were two Declans.
Damn. Two vatos would be fun.
Unless he’s in a pissy toppy mood.
Oh. Yeah. I don’t know if I could handle two Toppy Vatos.
