Gabby picked up her water glass. “Don’t let mama hear you blaspheme and baby Jesus doesn’t hate you.”
“Pretty sure he does.”
“Well, if he does it’s because you make him cry.”
Denise choked on her water and pressed her hand to her mouth.
“Tu fala português?” Zoe asked. What were the odds of that?
She shook her head and cleared her throat. “No, but I can understand Spanish pretty well. Not a great speaker though.”
“Where did you learn Spanish?” Gabby asked.
“My dad was stationed in El Paso, Texas when I was younger—before we moved to North Carolina. I picked up more when I was in the Army.”
“Zoe was in the Air Force,” Gabby said.
Bree leaned around Jase and held up her hand. “Go Air Force!”
Jase leaned back as Zoe leaned around his other side and slapped her palm against Bree’s. “What did you do?”
“I was a med tech, then I was on a Cultural Support Team.”
“Oh, wow. Really?” That was pretty badass. She’d met a few on her last deployment. That was not an easy job.
“Yeah. What about you?”
“Contracting. Not nearly as exciting as CST, though.”
“When did you get out?” Denise asked.
Zoe turned her attention across the table and felt the full force of Tim’s gaze. “I’m still on terminal.”
“Nice. Where are you coming from?”
“What’s terminal?” Tim asked.
“Luke Air Force Base in Arizona.” She looked at Tim. “Terminal leave. I’m technically still on active duty, but I had almost seventy days of leave saved up, so I’m burning that until my actual separation date.”
“How long were you in?” he asked.
Gabby leaned forward. “More than thirteen years. She only had seven more years until she could retire.” She switched back to Portuguese and looked at Zoe. “A waste.”
“Can we not go through this again? Please?” she pleaded in English.
“When it’s time, it’s time,” Denise said with a shrug. “Sometimes you don’t have any more to give.”
Zoe’s shoulder’s sagged. She really didn’t want to like Denise, but it was hard not to like someone who immediately came to her defense.
“Did you guys grow up in Brazil or the U.S.?” Tim asked.
Whether he asked out of genuine curiosity or as a way to change the subject, she didn’t care. She could kiss him for it—in a completely platonic way of course. Her gaze unwillingly dropped to his lips. Not the thoughts she should be having.
Before she could answer, a well-built, tattooed guy with a buzz cut stopped at their table and poked Tim in the shoulder. “Dude. You’re in my seat.”
Tim stared up at him. “Am I? I didn’t see your name on it.”
“I can make you move.”
Holy cow. They were going to fight. Right here in Elba’s restaurant.
