Operation: Stripped & Stranded

by E Kay Sims

  I picked my comb up off the floor and ran it through my hair until it was smooth and shiny. I put my stuff back into my backpack and zipped it up. “Can we go now? Aren’t you eager to shag some Vegas women or something? No more stalling, Eric. Let’s go.”

  “Let’s rock and roll! Bro trip!” he yelled as we headed down to the elevators. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, got it?” He winked as he pressed the button for the elevator.

  “Bloody oath,” I agreed as I pulled up my music playlist. “I’ve got some Cold Chisel and Powderfinger for the road, too. We’re set!”

  “Oh, yay,” He rolled his eyes as we stepped into the elevator. “Can’t wait.”

  “Oi! Don’t knock Chisel!” I snapped as I bumped into him.

  He glared at me. “As long as you don’t knock Metallica ‘cause I am playing my shit, too. Not sitting in the car listening to your Aussie rock band wannabes for the whole damn trip.”

  I shrugged. “Metallica have their merits, I suppose.”

  “Ha! You suppose? Suppose you shut the fuck up.” He grinned. “Metallica is the best damn band in the freaking world.”

  “Righto, who’s driving?” I said with a sigh as we approached the car. I knew the answer right away.

  “Really? Is it even a question, bro?” He looked at me with one eyebrow quirked. “I am.”

  Yessss! Stereo control! I silently cheered as I bounced around to the passenger side. I launched myself into the car and jacked up my phone. Powderfinger blared from the speakers almost immediately. “Come on, Vegas waits for no man, and neither does Powderfinger!” I bellowed over the din.

  Eric rolled his eyes as he buckled his seatbelt and hit the button that controlled the convertible top, letting out some of the sound from the stereo in the confines of the shiny blue Mustang. I put on the aviator sunnies Eric had gifted me last Christmas and leaned my head back against the headrest as Eric maneuvered the vehicle out of the car park.

  I thought about how, for once, just once, I wanted to let loose and have some mindless fun. Fuck the consequences. I’d never been good at that, though. Could I do it? Could I tuck away my worries, switch off my stupid, overthinking brain, and simply live in the moment? Stuff it, I was going to try. “Look out, Vegas, here we come,” I muttered.

  ERIC

  I

  pulled the Mustang up to the two-story porte-cochere at The Palazzo just over fifteen hours later. The drive had been long, but I was used to long hours with no sleep. It was harder than I thought it was going to be, though, what with constantly scanning the roadside for IEDs and the dumbass drivers cutting me off in traffic. Technically, I was going into my third week back in the civilian world. It was getting easier, but still, I’m trained to look for threats at every turn—constantly scanning the road, the buildings, the people around me. That was another reason I had insisted on driving. I needed to be in control at all times, monitoring everything––that was something that will never change. I had to admit, I had a bit of road rage, and I’d reached for my weapon more than once. Luckily, Gil had slept through that.

  Why am I so angry all the time?

  I swear, Gil was like a child every time he was a passenger in a car—he fell asleep right away. I wished I could sleep like that. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept for more than two hours at a time. I was wide awake, especially once we hit HWY 95, the long stretch of road in the Nevada desert, which reminded me of Afghanistan and some places in Iraq. Flashbacks started to flood my brain.

  When we’d finally arrived in Vegas, I’d felt as if a weight had been lifted, but it left me feeling exhausted. The valet tapped the window, startling me and woke Gil.

  “Bout time you woke your lazy Aussie ass up,” I recovered. “We’re here, bro.” I elbowed him as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared up at the glittering Palazzo hotel and casino.

  “Fuck. Does this place have its own postcode? It’s massive.”

  “It may as well have, it’s the second tallest building in Nevada, and it took eleven thousand tons of stone and marble to construct.” I left the car running for the valet and filled out the card he handed me for retrieval later.

  I walked around to the trunk to grab my duffle and backpack as Gil grabbed his stuff from the back seat.

  I heard a low whistle. “Holy fuck, I’d climb him like a tree,” a sultry voice purred behind me.

  Straightening, I turned to see a gorgeous blond Barbie doll of a woman eyeing me. Fake tits, fake hair, fake tan. “Nice ass,” she called as her two friends giggled. They all looked like they had just left the Sparkle Mansion. I so wanted to tell them that I was not the new Las Vegas Ken.

  “We don’t have women like that in Deep Lake,” Gil said out the corner of his mouth, which had dropped so far open it was grazing the ground.

  “Be glad! I like my women real. Real tits, real eyelashes, and none of that fake and bake orange skin.” I didn’t even smile back at that Barbie trio but instead turned toward the entrance with Gil still gawking. “Dude, let’s go,” I called over my shoulder.

  “Amen to that, Eric. I don’t think I could handle a high-maintenance woman. I’ve had enough people take advantage of me in my life. That’s part of the beauty of starting over.”

  “Let’s get checked in and go play.” We walked through the entrance jammed with people from all walks of life dressed in a kaleidoscope of colors as the ventilation system pumped out the cool, scented air, filling me with a sense of anticipation.

  Thirty minutes later we finally made it up to our suite on the sixth-floor with a view of the pool below and Treasure Island hotel and casino across the street. The deal I got gave us access to VIP treatment on the fifth-floor every evening from four to six p.m. All the drinks, hors-d’oeuvres, and desserts we could possibly eat, but we were too late. We had arrived just past ten p.m. I wasn’t hungry anyway since we had stopped at a roadside diner about two hours ago. I just wanted a beer and some relaxation.

  “So I hope you’re okay with sharing. It was the best I could do on such short notice.”

  “Yeah. A king-sized bed all to myself is pure torture.” Gil threw himself onto the bed with a sigh. “Don’t worry, I’m not going back to sleep. But how fucking big is this bed?”

  “Dude, I’m not sleeping with you.” I nodded my head toward the living room. “That fucking sectional pulls out into a queen. We can alternate nights.” This place was the size of a small apartment.

  Gil nodded. “Sounds like a plan. So, what’s first on the agenda?”

  “Oh, sure, you’re all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after sleeping most of the day away. Meanwhile, I have swamp ass and I really need a shower, a beer, and some relaxation, in that order. You can head downstairs to the bar if you want and I’ll meet you in a few. I need to make a few calls first, anyway.”

  Gil narrowed his eyes at me again. I knew from his expression that he was trying to figure out what I was hiding. “You better not bail on me, mate. Vegas waits for no one.”

  He’d been on that fucking mantra all day. It had become like his new motto. I needed to confirm my workshop for tomorrow, and I didn’t want Gil to catch me doing it.

  “I’m not going to bail on you, promise. I just need a shower and to call a few buddies to let them know I made it.” I looked at Gil with a serious face, then cracked a grin. “You wanna scrub my back or something?” I chuckled at his expression.

  Gil jumped up. “Righto. I’ll see ya soon.” He tucked his wallet into a pocket of his jeans and started for the door. He glanced at his phone. “Message me when you want to meet up.”

  I saluted him as he shut the door rather quickly. I laughed to myself at how he’d scurried out of here at my proposition. I am by no means gay and neither was Gil, but I loved giving him a hard time. He seemed to attract the boys with his pretty-boy looks, and the girls for that matter. Back in high school, he’d been painfully shy with zero confidence. After a while, a few bullies at school had targeted him in the
boy's locker room, accusing him of being gay. We both had gay friends and neither of us would’ve been considered homophobic.

  He’d been living with my family for a few months before he started getting flack at school from the jocks. I was on the wrestling team, and no one had the balls to mess with me. I was six-foot-two my junior year and well over two hundred pounds back then.

  One day, back at home, on a Saturday evening, I was getting ready for a date and had accidentally walked in on Gil as he was getting out of the shower. I saw the bruises on his back. They looked exactly like the type of bruises made by a sock filled with a bar of soap. I knew right away what had happened and swore I’d beat the shitbags who did this within an inch of their miserable lives.

  True to my word, I found out who did it and laid in wait for each one of them. When I was done with them, their bullying days were over. Gil was none the wiser. I hadn’t wanted to embarrass him, so I never said a word and I made the bullies swear never to tell or I’d be coming for them, and next time I wouldn’t be so nice. They were lucky I left them with no broken bones.

  Gil was one of my best friends. I loved him like a brother. Our relationship was different than my relationship with my Ranger buddies. I couldn’t explain it. War does things to a man. It brings you closer to the guys you’re in the shit with. I would willingly lay my life down for those men in a heartbeat. I would do the same for Gil, but it was just a different kind of brotherly love than the love I had for my brothers in arms.

  I headed for the shower, looking forward to rinsing off the grime of the long drive from Portland. Maybe after my shower I’d be in more of a partying mood.

  Twenty minutes later I felt a million times better. I had scrubbed and scrubbed my skin nearly raw and washed and rinsed my short, clipped hair at least three times. The shower had helped tremendously. Sometimes while on deployment, we rarely were able to get rinsed off with not much more than a sixteen-ounce bottle of water, let alone a full shower. Most of the time we had to make do with baby wipes. This was heaven. The shower was big enough for four people, no joke. Marble and glass everywhere, it looked like a Roman bath with all the modern conveniences.

  I hurried and dried off with the luxuriously oversized hotel towel and loosely wrapped it around my hips as I put on deodorant then combed my hair which reminded me of Gil’s antics this morning––women find fingered combed hair sexy. Ha! As if he knew. I had to laugh. I caught my reflection in the mirror and my ice blue eyes stared back. I had new lines around my eyes that hadn’t been there three months ago. Probably from squinting in the blazing Afghanistan sun, but most likely they were from all the horrors I’d witnessed these past years finally catching up to me. God dammit, Rico! Stay out of my head! I felt like I’d aged three to five years with each three-month deployment, at least it looked that way to me. War is fucking hell.

  Just then, my cell buzzed on the counter with a text from Gil.

  Fucking hurry up. Those fake, walking Barbie Dolls are back and they keep eyeing me off like they’re going to eat me alive. It’s this fucking accent. It’s like a drug to you people!!!

  I quickly texted him back. LOL! Keep your pants on, oh wait or not… I’ll be down soon. Hang tight.

  Gil’s reply came almost instantly. Are you saying I should fuck a Barbie Doll?

  I replied with the one eye open, tongue hanging out emoji and then set my phone back on the vanity to brush my teeth. Gil started sending me picture messages of the Barbie trio making me laugh so hard I spit toothpaste on the mirror. A few minutes later, as I was searching through my duffle bag for the least wrinkled shirt and pants I could find, I heard a knock at the door of our suite.

  What the fuck? Did Gil come up to drag me downstairs? He must’ve forgotten his swipe card.

  I padded bare-footed with my towel draped around my hips through to the foyer and opened the door. “I told you I’d be down in a few,” I said without looking to see who it was then I turned back toward the bathroom.

  “Oh! I’m terribly sorry, I must have the wrong room,” a feminine voice squeaked out.

  Startled, I turned quickly and the sudden movement caused my towel to drop to the floor. Oh, fuck! The most gorgeous goddess of a woman stood before me, and I froze like a statue, giving her a full-frontal view of my nakedness. Her striking hazel eyes widened in surprise as heat crept into her cheeks. Her full sensuous lips formed a little oh as her eyes dropped below my waist.

  “Oh shit.” I scrambled to cover myself with one hand as I leaned down to scoop up my towel. “Uh, can I help you?” I asked, wrapping the towel back around my hips.

  “Um, uh, no, uh,” she stammered, backing away. “I obviously have the wrong room.” With that, she turned and ran down the hallway. “Sorry.” I heard her call over her shoulder.

  I stood there wondering what the hell just happened. If I hadn’t been wearing a towel, I might’ve gone after her. She had glorious dark hair that spilled down in waves past her shoulders. Her body looked athletic, and she had been wearing some kind of flowy skirt with leggings underneath and a tank top. No makeup, but she didn’t need any. Her hazel eyes were sparkling with hints of green and flecks of gold. Her skin was lightly sprinkled with a smattering of freckles like she’d been in the sun but with a natural glow, unlike the Barbie triplets with their obvious fake tans. I noticed everything about her in those brief seconds—it’s what I’m trained to do. I wouldn’t forget that face, ever. Hers wasn’t a face to be forgotten.

  Well shit! I had better finish getting dressed so I could get downstairs and meet Gil. I shut the door and grabbed my nice denim jeans and pulled on a tight fitting blue T-shirt, the same color as my eyes. I was hoping to stand out when I packed my clothes for this trip. I double-checked my wallet for cash and protection before heading out of the suite and down to the elevator. I shot Gil a text letting him know I was on the way.

  On the way. Where are you?

  My phone buzzed with his text. Double Helix Bar.

  My fingers flew over the keys as I typed out my reply. Cool. Where the fuck is that?

  Gil didn’t respond right away. The little dots seemed to roll on forever before he finally replied.

  Fucked if I know. Follow the neon spray tans.

  I let out a snort of laughter. He wasn’t off. I’d never seen so many fake tans in one place in my life. But his answer didn’t help me any. I made my way down to the Grand Canal Shoppes and located a kiosk with a map of the shops. The little dot indicating You Are Here showed I wasn’t too far away from the Double Helix Bar. I waded through the crowds of people and finally walked into the bar to see Gil front and center, surrounded by the Barbie tribe.

  I sauntered up to the bar like I owned the place and gave Gil a nod. “What did you order me?”

  Gil handed me a glass of wine. “I thought of you, mate.” There was no mistaking the cheeky smirk as he shrugged. “Some sort of Pinot Noir or whatever, from Oregon.”

  “You fucker.” I laughed in spite of myself, taking the wine from him. The Barbie tribe was eyeing me like a school of piranhas. I sniffed the wine, pretending I knew what I was doing, and then took a small sip and swished it around in my mouth before swallowing it.

  Gil arched his eyebrow at me as he sipped his whiskey.

  “It’s not bad,” I said, taking another sip. “How’s the whiskey?”

  “It’s like a little slice of home. Sullivan’s Cove, brewed in Tasmania.” He took another sip. “Bloody beautiful.”

  “You’re a shithead, you know that?” I lifted my glass to him.

  “Sometimes.” Gil nodded. “You bring out the worst in me, mate.”

  “I bring out the best in you, and that’s why you love me!” I laughed and clinked my wine glass against his whiskey tumbler. “Cheers, bro!”

  “Yeah, cheers, Eric.” Gil shifted in his chair. “So, you feelin’ better after that shower? Come on, where’s the old Eric? The Eric that paid Destiny to blow me?”

  “I’m right here,” I lied
, taking another drink, avoiding eye contact. I’d never be that guy again.

  Even with the Barbie tribe circling us, Gil still didn’t believe that women were attracted to him due to his own merit.

  “So how’d you do on your own?” I asked him, nonchalantly scanning the room. I let my eyes skim over the piranhas.

  “One of them thought I was from Austria. Then, when they figured it out, another one asked if I knew Chris Hemsworth. When I said no, they asked me if I knew Henry Cavill. When I told them he was from England or something, they got all rambunctious and carried on about how they’d never met ‘a sexy Brit’ before.” Gil shook his head, the pained look on his face too hilarious not to laugh at. He glared at me. “Fuck you, Eric.”

  “You dope, you had your moment and you let it slip by?”

  Just then the girl with the dark hair from earlier walked into the bar with a group of three other women, all wearing some kind of yoga clothes. The hostess took them to a table that had just cleared. I nearly choked on my wine when she looked up and locked eyes with me for a split second. Her face turned beet red before she quickly glanced away. I didn’t catch what Gil had been saying, I was so distracted by her.

  “What did you say, sorry?” I asked, my eyes never left her. I watched as she and her friends sat down.

  “I said I’m not shagging any of those women. You can forget it.” He drained his glass and banged it down onto the bar. “Let’s find some real women. I’ve got some liquid courage in me now. What have you got planned?”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Lady Luck just walked in, and I’m going to take my chances.” I nodded toward the table with the brunette. “Don’t look, but I met the gorgeous one just before I came downstairs––no, don’t look,” I said as Gil started to crane his neck around.

  He did anyway, but it was lightning quick. “Which one?”

  “The tall brunette with the willowy figure.” I decided to come clean and told Gil about the encounter upstairs.