He remembered me saying I craved gooey fried cheese sticks during a brief intermission that first night. He’d also called room service and had an order delivered along with chicken fingers and more water.
“We need to keep our strength up,” he’d said after hanging up the hotel room phone.
That’s not how tonight will end.
“Sounds good.”
While we waited for the appetizer, I asked, “So, how’d you get the nickname Robinhood?”
His soft smile was endearing as he answered. “My teammates gave it to me after they learned I was decent with a bow and arrow.”
“Like archery or crossbow?”
“Archery. Shane, the rancher I worked for growing up, taught me.” He sipped his drink. “It’s not the most useful skill, but it taught me a lot about discipline and patience.”
“Useful skills for becoming a SEAL.”
He nodded.
“What’d you do on the ranch?”
“Everything from mucking out stalls to teaching kids with challenges how to ride a horse.”
Matt helped challenged kids? If that wasn’t panty-dropping information, I didn’t know what was.
“Did you—”
He cut me off. “Nope, my turn.”
It was only fair.
“Did you always want to be a nurse practitioner?”
The details Matt retained shouldn’t have shocked me—the Navy trained SEALs to remember details, no matter how small—yet they did.
The differences between a nurse and a nurse practitioner were huge, yet most people still called me a nurse. Most of the time I didn’t bother correcting them.
“No, I wanted to be a nurse.” As a kid, I’d never heard the term nurse practitioner. “I decided I wanted to learn more after serving for years as a corpsman.”
“Why the Navy?”
“Dad instilled the need to serve in all of us. If the Marine’s had medical personnel, I would’ve followed in his footsteps.”
“Did you ever serve with a Marine unit?”
“I did.”
“Then you’re an honorary Marine.” He held his glass up to clink.
“Thank you.” I didn’t care that I served in a different branch than my father, but it was sweet that Matt wanted to give me that connection.
Our server delivered our cheese plate and took our meal orders. I chose the recommended wine to accompany my meal. So did Matt.
He nudged the platter towards me. “Ladies first.”
I gave my brothers shit for always insisting I go first.At least they do now.When we were kids, meals were a free for all, every man for himself. Until our parents told them to stop acting like animals.
But with Matt, it felt different. Good.
