Likewise, Pete didn’t want to lose the Navy. But if hewasgoing to quit, he didn’t want it to be a surprise to anyone on the Teams.
For now, he gratefully took the extension, but he also took an envelope of paperwork—forms to fill out—should he need to resign, God help him.
He pulled his truck into his own driveway, tucked the envelope into the pocket on the door, gathered up his cover and—clicking his truck locked—headed across the street to Shayla’s house.
The windows were open—it was a beautiful afternoon. Pete stopped for a moment, just absorbing the sounds of life—music and laughter—spilling out of Shay’s little house. Food was cooking. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious.
Someone was singing some top-forty pop song. Had to be Frank, and maybe Tevin, and…Hiroko?
Holy shit, Hiroko was singing a Katy Perry song, along with…Wait. Was that Mrs. Quinn…?
But before Pete could laugh at the absurdity, the thought popped into his head:Maybe she was lonely, too.
Lonely. Too. As in,alsolonely. As in, how absolutely different would it be for him to come home tothisevery day, instead of a cold, empty room in the officers’ barracks?
A cheer went up from inside, along with whooping and scattered applause. And yes, that was definitely Mrs. Quinn saying, “More turmeric, dear! I can barely taste it.”
And then he thought, how abso-fucking-lutely different would it feel toMaddieto come home to this every day, instead of a cold, empty house with a still-angry, too-lonely man sitting grimly in the silent kitchen?
“Jesus,” he said.
“You okay there, sir?”
Pete looked up to see Hans Schlossman up on the roof, standing guard near the fireplace chimney, where he could see both the front yard and the back.
“Yeah,” he told the kid, forcing a smile. “It’s just been a long coupla days. I appreciate your willingness to spend your downtime here, Schlossman. Especially since I know thatyouknow it’s not going to get you any kind of preferential treatment. In fact, I’m gonna have to tell Lieutenant MacInnough to challenge Boat Squad John extra aggressively in the next phase, to make sure there’s no appearance of impropriety.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Schlossman said dryly. “Can’t wait, sir.” But then he realized what Pete had said. “Lieutenant MacInnough? Wait, where areyougonna be?” He quickly added, “Sir?”
But Pete’s cellphone was buzzing in the pocket of his uniform pants, and he held up a finger to Schlossman as he pulled it out. It was Shayla. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey!” she said.
And for a second, with his eyes closed, he was buried deep inside of her as she shattered around him, and Jesus, in just a few short days he’d become completely addicted.
“Where are you?” she asked, excitement in her voice, bringing him back to here and now. “Are you still at the Navy Base? Are you in your truck? Are you—”
“I’m back. I’m actually standing in your front yard.” Shay’s needs took priority over breaking the news to Schlossman that Pete would probably not be further involved in the rest of Boat Squad John’s BUD/S training, so he headed for the front door.
But she beat him to it, bursting her way outside, the screen door slapping closed behind her, before she even hung up her phone.
“She texted!” Shayla told him as she danced down the front steps. “Peter, Maddie texted me! She wants to meet; she wants to talk!”
“Oh, thank God!”
“But not until tomorrow,” Shay said, “except Lindsey made contact with Fiona’s mother, and well, I’m pretty sure I know where they are. Maddie and Dingo. And I think we should go there. I don’t think we should wait until morning.”
Pete looked over at the house—the windows were filled with watching faces. Tevin. Frank. Hiroko. Tiffany. Seagull and Timebomb. And yeah, even Mrs. Quinn. The only one missing was Lindsey, who probably hadn’t been able to push herself up and off of the couch.
“Where are they?” he asked Shay, but it was the crowd in the house who answered in unison.
“Manzanar!”
Shay brought Peter into her bedroom.
Oh, honey, if only…
“Shh.”
