"I don't blame you." He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her.
She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I feel so silly crying again. After sobbing on your shoulder last night."
"Grief isn't a one-time thing and doesn't have a timetable." He pressed his lips to her temple.
"I'm not sure all these tears are for my mom." She raised watery eyes to him. "I'm really sad you're leaving tonight."
"Me too." He held her a little tighter.
After several long moments, she straightened, pulling away from him. "What's it like where you're going?"
He’d told Grace and his family last week that he’d be going to Iraq, but he’d been vague on the other details, including where exactly in Iraq.
"This time of year, it's still pretty hot and dry. It's always dry. The nights get chilly though."
"Will you have your own room? Tent? I don't even know what the accommodations are.”
“Accommodations?” Damon chuckled as he opened the picnic basket his mom packed for them. "Camp...the place I'm going is more developed than some bases I’ve been to, but it’s not even close to a four-star hotel. The buildings consist mostly of Conex containers."
"Conex?"
"Shipping containers but with windows and a door." Damon handed Grace a sandwich. "I'll share myroomwith at least three other guys from my unit, possibly even five." He continued to talk between bites. "I hope I don't get stuck bunking with Chevy, Flowers, or Howie."
"Howie." Grace pointed at him. "He's the practical joker, right?"
"That's him."
"Did you tell him you checked off Kiss a Stranger from your bucket list?"
"Not yet."
"Why not?"
"I don't know." Damon shrugged one shoulder. "I guess I just want to keep you to myself for a while longer. Knowing Howie, he'll make a mockery of what has become one of the most important days of my life."
"Mine too." A soft expression filled Grace’s face. "Why don't you want to bunk with Chevy? Is that his real name or are these nicknames?"
"They're nicknames. Howie's full name is Colby Howard. We call Jared FordChevybecause he hates it." Damon grinned. "He's convinced Ford trucks are the best, so every chance we get, we disagree with him. I don't want to bunk with him, because his feet stink. I mean they reek!"
Grace laughed. "Let me guess...Flowers’ real name is Flores?” When he nodded, she asked, “Why don't you want to share a room with him?"
"We call Lucas Flores Flowers because he's always putting on a nauseating amount of body spray and cologne. It's worse when he bunks with Chevy, because he uses his cologne to mask Chevy's stinky feet."
"Yeah, that sounds like a horrible combination." Grace pulled a face. "Who do you want to bunk with?"
"Timothy McDonald has a contagious grin and curly red hair when it's not buzzed so we call him Ronald. He's one of my closest friends. He's a Christian too. He helped me stay on the right track after I turned my life around."
Damon pulled a container of fruit from the basket and held it and a fork out to Grace. "Jackson King—a.k.a. King Kong—looks like he repeatedly skipped leg day. He's very muscular and bulky through the chest and shoulders. He's quiet and looks grumpy, but he's just a big teddy bear. Then there's Mateo Romero. We call him Romeo."
"Romeo?" Grace's brows arched.
"He's a ladies’ man. Has a new girlfriend every month. He's the love 'em and leave 'em type."
Grace wrinkled her nose in that adorable way that Damon had come to love. "What's your nickname?"
His face heated. "Lancelot."
"Ah, the noble knight who stole the heart of Maid Marion. Very fitting, Mr. Knight." Her brow arched again. "Are you sure you're not the love 'em and leave 'em type?"
