Lance looked extraordinarily pleased when he saw him emerge wearing his borrowed shorts. Tanner might have been annoyed if he didn’t get such a kick out of seeing Lance sitcrossed legged in the paddling pool, with Lucy on his shoulders and Clara braiding his hair. Lance’s gaze swept over him, lingering for a few seconds on his left leg and the mess of scars there, but his smile never faltered.
“Ready for the big boy pool, now?” Tanner asked with a laugh.
“I was born ready!” Lance exclaimed confidently as he carefully got to his knees and lifted Lucy from his shoulders. He’d taken his shirt off before heading into the water, so his incredible upper body was on full display. He’d continued to keep himself fit, even though he didn’t play football anymore. Broad and muscular, he still looked like the star athlete Tanner remembered. Tanner felt ashamed about the decline of his own fitness in recent years. As soon as he got medical clearance, he’d head straight for the gym.
“Did you bring a spare shirt?” Lance asked. The girls went back to playing around the fountains, screaming and shouting whenever the sprinklers shot water up and over them.
“No—because I didn’t intend to getinthe water.”
“Then you should probably take yours off, unless you want to drive home with it soaking wet.”
“It’s a pain to try to take it off because of the sling. I’ll just keep it on.”
“Seriously, nothing is worse than sitting in wet clothes—just come here. I’ll do it for you.”
Before Tanner could object, Lance closed the distance between them and swiftly went to work. His fingers connected with the bottom of Tanner’s shirt, brushing lightly against his stomach. Apparently, he’d just lost his damned mind because he suddenly forgot how to breathe the moment Lance’s hand touched his bare skin.
“It’ll only take a second,” Lance said, as he began to pull off the shirt. Lance smoothly maneuvered the fabric of his slingover his head while preventing the shirt from catching on it. Tanner stood there, feeling discomfited—and something else he didn’t know quite how to describe. He concentrated on what his nieces were doing to distract himself, but he was hyperaware of every brush of skin and movement that Lance made. Finally, as Lance readjusted the sling around his neck, Tanner managed a quick laugh.
“I usually ask for a drink before I let a guy strip me.”
Lance stepped back and tossed him his shirt.
“You get to sleep on my couch on the regular now,” he reminded Tanner. “Think we’re a little past first drinks,” he snorted and gave him a playful wink. Tanner wasn’t sure what to think. Was Lance flirting with him? No—he couldn’t be, right? Neither of them was gay and—well, why would a guy like Lance ever be into someone as messed up as Tanner?
Then again, and this was the most confusing part of all, why was he even thinking about this? He’d never dwelled on the intentions of his friends before. And he’d certainly never given any thought to his level of attractiveness to one of his friends. The only thing he knew for certain was there was an intense wave of heat surging through him as he looked up and got caught up in Lance’s bright blue gaze. He coughed to distract himself and turned around to look for the girls. Maybe putting a little distance between them would help him think more clearly.
“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands together as he limped towards his nieces. “Who’s ready for some slides!”
After spending four hours racing each other down slides, the tide pool, and the jungle river ride, they stuffed themselves with chicken nuggets and ice cream until Clara and Lucy finally ran out of gas. They fell asleep within seconds of climbing into the backseat, with Lucy drooling all over her plush baby giraffe, and Clara snuggled up to her giant hippo.
“Dude, I don’t know how parents do this full time,” Lance said, yawning from the passenger seat. “I’m exhausted.”
“You’re good with them,” Tanner remarked, shooting him a sideways glance.
“They’re great kids. It’s easy when they’re like these two.”
“You’d be a good dad,” Tanner said with a smile.
Lance shrugged and looked out the window.
“Is that anywhere in your plans?” Tanner asked, his own curiosity catching him off-guard.
“My mother would certainly like it to be. She’s been hounding me for grandkids since I graduated from college.” Lance’s tone was so flat that Tanner could tell there was a lot more to this story.
“And . . .” Tanner pushed for more details.
“I thought I might, with my ex, but—” he shrugged. “I did a whole lot of thinking after Julie left, and the only thing I figured out is I don’t really know what the hell I do want. All I’m pretty clear on is what I don’t want, and I’d like to think that if I found something worth keeping, I’d be smart enough to recognize it, but—” he shrugged then turned to Tanner. “I’m not going to lie. It feels pretty stupid to be turning 30 and not know what the heck I want out of life.”
Tanner couldn’t help but chuckle at Lance’s choice of words. Not because they were funny, but because he wouldn’t have expected them from oh-so-organized-and-well-put-together Lance, with his own accounting firm, his gorgeous brick house with a picket fence and big yard, and his perfectly pressed, color coordinated clothes.
“Hey! No laughing, buster!”
Tanner shook his head, coughing to disguise his laugh.
“I’m not! I swear! I just think it’s kinda funny—coming from you. I mean—you look pretty figured out to me. Nice toknow I’m not the only one feeling—lost.” Lance studied him in silence, waiting for an explanation.
“I lost five years of my life because of the sandbox. Five years when I couldn’t save money, date, make friends, plan for kids. I was 24 when I deployed, spent one year flying in and out of war zones, then I spent three years in a hellhole, and another year trying to recover from said hellhole. That’s five years of nothing. Having nothing when you’re 24 is perfectly normal, you know? But now? I’m 29—I don’t even have a career plan. I rent a tiny condo I can barely afford.” He sighed and paused before continuing. “Right now, the only things I can call my own are a shitload of trauma and medical bills and my truck Big Blue,” he added with a snort, shooting Lance a quick grin to ease the tension. “My sister and I fought a lot in the beginning, because she wanted me to live at her house. I couldn’t—not with kids in the house, so I kept telling her I was sleeping at a friend’s house—someone I knew from high school or the military. I didn’t want her to know that on those nights I usually just went to an all-night diner or slept in my truck. The truth is, I haven’t spoken to any of those guys for years. They probably still think I’m dead, and it’s mostly because I’m—” he shrugged, searching for the right way to put it.
