by Vivian Wood
Ryan stood under the pounding hot water and tried to guess what questions the US Marshals recruiter might ask. What about my knee? All the details were in his files, of course. Would they really invite me for an interview if they were going to reject me because of that?
It had been a long time since he was this nervous. Not since Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training, probably.
He rehearsed potential answers as he maneuvered the motorcycle to the recruiter’s office. No, I’ve never taken medication for depression, anxiety, or any other mental condition. My best training was the wet and sandy. No, I’m not married and I don’t have a significant other.
The building was unassuming—what more could he expect from the agency that was in charge of the Witness Protection Program? He willed himself to stop shaking his leg nervously as he waited in the lobby in an uncomfortable plastic bucket seat.
“It’ll be just another minute,” the pretty receptionist told him for the third time. He tried to smile back, but it felt forced.
“Petty Officer Scott?” A gruff man appeared at the door beside the receptionist’s desk. “Right this way.”
As he followed the squat man through a narrow and dingy hallway, he couldn’t help but feel like he was in trouble at school and this was the principal who was about to punish him with detention.
“Thank you for coming down,” the man said. “I’m Lieutenant Stevens, and I’ll be conducting this session.” Interview. Is it a good thing he didn’t call it an interview? Or not?
“Thank you for seeing me,” Ryan said.
The man snorted. “I’ll get right down to it. Your records are impressive. Silver Star Medal, impeccable recommendations, three platoons—you’re certainly not lacking in your background and training.”
“Thank you, sir,” Ryan said. He sensed a ”but” coming.
“Here’s the thing. As you may or may not know, we’re in need of solid vets for the US Marshals. The incidents in recent years? The suicides that were all over the news? That’s done a number on our recruitment efforts.”
Suicides? That hadn’t come up in any of his research when he'd been trying to figure out his next move. “I can imagine. Sir.”
“Because of that, we’ve been extremely vigilant about vetting candidates, particularly with regards to their mental health.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I see here that you had a patellar fracture. That what got you discharged?” The lieutenant’s steely eyes sized him up and down. Why is he asking me? Doesn’t he already know?
“Yes, sir.”
“Huh,” he said. “SEALs take every little thing serious, huh? Well, as long as you have the go-ahead from one of our doctors, that shouldn’t be a problem. Nothing else, though? You know, up here?” The lieutenant tapped his own head with a pencil.
“Uh, no, sir. No.” Shorter replies were always better.
“That’s good. That’s real good, son,” he said. The lieutenant leaned back in his chair.
Am I supposed to do something now? He kept quiet. If this was some kind of game or test, he didn’t know the rules.
“Nine months,” the lieutenant said.
“Pardon, sir?”
“The hiring process takes about nine months right now. Used to be up to twelve, but like I said…”
“Excuse me, sir, but I’ll be waiting nine months for a decision?
“Hell no, son. That’s just how long the paperwork and all takes. And you applied through your local district. Smart, that’ll speed it up. You’ll have to go through the training academy within a hundred and sixty days of today, but that’s nearby, too. And should be a breeze for a SEAL like you.”
“I’d just like to clarify, sir. I’m in?”
“More or less,” he said. “You’ll enter at the GL-0082-07 level, just like all new recruits. After a year, you’ll be eligible for a promotion. Sorry about that, it’s the rules. Doesn’t matter if you’re a war hero or a nobody off the street. Well, I shouldn’t say that. We don’t really take nobodies.”
The numbers swam in Ryan’s head. He didn’t know what they meant, but what did it mean that the lieutenant was apologizing? That’s gotta be a bad sign.
“Thank you? Sir.” It was the only thing that came to mind.
“Check with Pauline at reception. She’ll have some paperwork for you, and can take it from there.”
“Oh. Okay. Thank you, sir.” Lieutenant Stevens rose and shook his hand, but had already sat back down by the time Ryan made it to the door.
“I see you applied to serve locally, too,” Pauline said. “That’s good! We could use some more like you around here.” Her dark cocoa eyes looked hungry.
“Like me?”
“Like you.” Her eyes never once broke his gaze.
He didn’t want to go home yet—if you could call it that. It had been easy as a SEAL. Show up, and everything was already as it was required to be. It had been years since he’d actually had to put some effort into setting up an apartment. Instead, he swerved into a local smoothie shop where he knew they carried his favorite whey protein powder.
When he ordered, the skinny teenager who rang him up eyed Ryan’s forearms. They were bronzed and taut, a surprise that jutted from the rolled-up sleeves of his formal dress shirt. “That protein powder really works then, huh?” the kid asked.
“It helps,” Ryan said.
“Oh my God. Ryan? Ryan, is that you?” The voice behind him was oddly familiar. As he looked behind him, it took him a moment to place her.
“Sarah! Hey, how are you?” he asked as she went in for an awkward hug.
“I’m fine.” He could feel her breasts pressing against his chest. “How are you? Poppy didn’t tell me you were back. She’s super busy, though.”
“Good, good,” he said. “It’s been awhile. You look good.”
“Thanks,” she said, and glanced down at her tight skirt. “Work clothes, you know,” she said with a laugh.
It was true, she did look good. In fact, that tight little black skirt looked even better than the floral dress she had been wearing in his dream. Now she was wearing a tailored little black jacket and some kind of pink silk camisole. And what was she wearing underneath her clothes?
“We should get together and catch up sometime,” he said. He couldn’t help the stirring in his trousers as he compared this Sarah to the one in his dream.
“Yes, for sure!” she said. “I have weird hours, but I’m free this Thursday night.”
“Cool. How about dinner, then? Nine o’clock?”
“Sounds good,” she said. “Do you have my number?”
“Yeah, from when I picked Poppy up at your place.”
“That’s right.”
“I only have my bike, though. You okay with motorcycles, or should I get a cab for the night?”
“That’s so sweet that you’d do that! But actually, yeah, I’m good with a bike. It sounds hot. What is it they say? Something about having so much power between your legs.” She gave him a wink. “But I guess, like, this wouldn’t be appropriate,” she laughed and tugged at her skirt.
“Hey, whatever you’re comfortable in,” he said. “I wouldn’t be one to complain.”
“I bet not!” she said. “I’m sure I have some hot biker-friendly gear in my closet somewhere.”
“Your protein shake’s ready,” the kid said in a small voice. Ryan turned to take it, and the cashier held onto the drink to force Ryan to lean in. “Dude,” he said, and nodded slightly to Sarah.
Ryan just smiled and shrugged. “See you Thursday,” he said to Sarah as he left.
“I’ll text you my address in a minute,” she said. He smiled and watched as the cashier ogled her openly. He couldn’t blame him. Every inch of Sarah screamed of nothing but sex. Surely she’d be wild in bed.
Yeah, she was hot. Worth overlooking her annoying voice for awhile, at least. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if the whole thing would be as beguiling as his dream without Poppy there.
&
nbsp; Why the hell are you thinking that? He could feel Sarah’s eyes on him as he climbed on the bike. He didn’t care what anyone said—there was something about a man on a motorcycle that women couldn’t resist. It wasn’t why he’d bought the hog of course, but it was a lesson he'd learned quickly. He felt like Marlon Brando in The Wild Ones. Even when he’d bought it, the sales clerk had told him, “Better be careful! They’re gonna be all over you now.”
At the time he’d just laughed, but he'd had his first taste of what the man had meant when he stopped for gas a few miles later. “Ain’t nothing hotter than a man and his bike,” the gas station attendant had said. It didn’t matter that she was twice his age and covered in faded tattoos. He knew right then this bike was going to get him in trouble if he let it.
He tucked the drink into his satchel and revved up the engine. Ryan had planned to enjoy his drink there, but didn’t want to stick around for awkward pre-date talk with Sarah.
He ran over the Sarah and Poppy fantasy in his head. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Sarah was just kind of there as a teaser. The trailer before the real deal. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. He’d been known to be impulsive before, sometimes with devastating consequences—like the time he ended up dating a girl who full-on stalked him for a year afterward.
He frowned as he headed home and shook his head. Images of Poppy with her legs spread open on his lap refused to budge from his brain. Even in his dream, which he’d always heard meant you couldn’t focus on details, every inch of her had been in high def. He could even see the damp spot on his jeans where her wetness had overflowed.
If asked, he could deliver a manifesto on the shape of her areolas and describe in perfect detail their exact shade of pink. If someone asked him right now if he could have anything in the world, without hesitation he’d say he'd want to have Poppy’s nipples in his mouth. He wanted to make her squirm against him, beg him to be inside her.
Ryan pulled up to his apartment with his erection raging against his jeans. He raced up the stairs, forgot his drink on the bike, and leaned against the couch as he brought himself to orgasm. The only things he saw when he came were Poppy’s nipples and wide open pinkness from his fantasy.
His phone chirped, and he pulled it from his jeans pocket. It was Sarah with a text of her address.
What are you thinking about Poppy for?
7
Poppy
Today was a freaking miracle. As Poppy pulled her blue scrub top over her head, she was amazed. For the first time in weeks, not a single kid had gotten sick on her. Her feet ached and her legs screamed, but all in all it was a good day for once.
“Oh my God, my arms are killing me,” Penny said as she sidled up next to Poppy.
“Your arms? Why?”
“Because I had to carry around the Jackson baby all freaking afternoon.”
“He’s adorable,” Poppy said as she slid her pants down. From the corner of her eye, she could see the youngest intern trying his best not to look their way. It was getting more natural, changing in front of everyone.
“He feels like he weighs a hundred pounds!”
“Penny, he’s two years old.”
“Biggest two-year-old ever,” she grumbled. “You got plans tonight? First earlyish shift in a long time.”
“Not really, probably stream something.”
“No plans with Will?” Penny asked as she stepped out of her own scrubs.
“No, he’s actually out of town for work.”
“Cool! What’s he doing?”
“Meeting some Netflix people. They’re optioning one of his scripts.”
“That’s great! It’s so amazing he’s a creative who’s actually driven and found a way to make money with his craft.”
“Yeah. I guess it is pretty cool.” Sometimes I need to be reminded of that.
“You know,” Penny said as she pulled on jeans, “Ryan’s okay, but Will is a lot better looking, in my opinion. Honestly P, I want someone like that. Someone with ambition who will really take care of me, you know? I hope you know how lucky you are.”
Poppy smiled briefly just as her phone buzzed on the locker shelf.
Missing you HARD tonight. Will’s text came through with a bathroom mirror shot of him, seemingly naked, though only the top of his pubic hair could be seen before everything else disappeared below the counter. Classy. She was a lucky girl indeed. For a second she thought about replying, but pursed her lips and clicked away.
She scrolled through the messages and emails she’d missed on her shift. Hey, grab a drink with friends tonight? 9? She couldn’t help but smile at Ryan’s text. With friends, huh?
“Is that Will?” Penny asked.
“Oh, um, yeah,” she said.
“Told you. Lucky girl.”
Poppy checked the time—it was already 9:30. Before she could talk herself out of it, she replied in a flurry. Just off a long shift now, but see you soon! Text me place/address.
In seconds, Ryan replied with a smiley face and the name of a nearby pub.
As she walked through the heavy wooden double doors, she was relieved to find her jeans and T-shirt were perfectly suited for the little Irish bar. She scanned the crowd for Ryan, and spied him in the corner with… Sarah?
Sarah threw a dart wildly at the board. It stuck to the thick wooden paneling instead. Poppy walked toward them, and watched Sarah pretend to be embarrassed and hide her face in Ryan’s chest. With a frown, Poppy walked faster.
“Hey! Poppy!” Ryan called, and engulfed her in a bear hug. “These are some of my buddies. Josh, Manny, Chris—this is Poppy. And, well, you know Sarah of course.”
She smiled and gave Sarah a side squeeze. “You all ready for another round? Poppy? I’ll get us a fresh pitcher.” She nodded to Ryan as he headed for the bar.
“I didn’t know you and Ryan were a thing,” she whispered to Sarah.
Sarah’s honey colored eyes were wide. “P, I—”
“Hey.” Suddenly Ryan was back, his arm wrapped around Sarah’s bare shoulders. “Actually, I’m going to order a pitcher for the guys. How about the three of us get a real drink?”
“Sure,” Poppy said before Sarah could reply. “Jameson, rocks.”
“Damn, girl, you go straight for the hard stuff.”
“Ry, please—”
“I know, I know. Sorry. Darn, girl.”
Sarah giggled and smacked Ryan’s butt playfully. “Whiskey for all!” she called.
Seated at a high-top, just the three of them, the tension melted away with each sip. “I’m going to order some appetizers, you ladies want anything?”
“Bubble and squeak!” Sarah said.
“What the hell is that?”
“I don’t know. I saw it on the menu and it sounds fun.”
Ryan rolled his eyes, but ordered it when the server arrived—along with three other appetizers.
“Well, here's your ‘leftover vegetables from a roast dinner,’ Sarah,” Ryan said when the dishes arrived. “At least that’s what Google says it is. But if you’re in the mood for some real food, we’ve got fish and chips, Shepherd’s pie sliders, and some Guinness bread.”
“How drunk are you?!” Sarah laughed. “Are you going to eat all of that?”
“Hey, these are just the appetizers,” Ryan said as he dug in.
“I remember the first time we had fish and chips,” Poppy said as she dipped the battered halibut in tartar sauce. “The lake we used to hang out at back in school. Lake of the Woods, I think it was called?”
“That’s right!” Ryan said. “They had that random little food stall right at the park entrance. Run by that crazy old lady with the bad perm.”
“Yeah,” Poppy said, and started to laugh. “Then there was that one time the whole class went when we were, like, fifteen? That poor woman must have gone through her whole inventory for us!”
“I completely forgot about that!” Ryan said. “Talk about stupid, taking a bunch of teen
agers to spend the night in a cabin.”
“Oh my—Sarah. Sarah, that night, I caught Ryan red-handed with Jenny Thompkins! They were—I mean, you don’t know who she was—but they were making out in the kitchen forever.”
“It was all she would let me do!” he said.
Sarah laughed. “The kitchen, huh? Naughty, naughty.” She shook her finger at Ryan and stuck out her lower lip.
Poppy downed the last of her now watered-down whiskey and reached for Ryan’s—largely untouched since the food had arrived.
“But me?” Poppy said as she took a sip of the Jameson, “I didn’t snitch! Nope. Not even though they were kind of loud in there.”
“Don’t exaggerate, we weren’t that loud,” he said as he moved to the sliders.
“You were totally loud! You woke up half the class trying to sneak back to your beds.”
“Ooh!” Sarah said as her eyes lit up. “I like a man who’s vocal.”
“Don’t get too excited,” Poppy said. “It was mostly them banging around in the kitchen then trying to be all sleuth-like coming back.”
“Banging—” Sarah started.
“The pans, Sarah, come on,” Ryan said. “They were all over the counter.”
“You know, I even pretended to throw up? To cover up for those two who clearly didn’t know how to sneak around.”
Ryan put down the slider. “Pretended? I though you really were sick!”
Poppy busted out laughing, and Sarah followed suit. “It wasn’t that big a deal!” she said. “I mean, there was no way they were going to believe I, quiet and nerdy little Poppy, was going to be downing the Schnapps. I guess I had everybody fooled.” Ryan shook his head.
“Aww,” Sarah said. “You have such good friends, Ryan.” She looped her arms through his, and he didn’t seem to mind. Poppy watched him even give her waist a little squeeze, and she let out a yelp.
“There’s the squeak,” he teased her. “I already know where the bubbles are.” Sarah laughed and slapped his arm.
As Poppy watched the flirtations unfold, she felt a lump grow in her throat and a sadness draw over her. What’s your problem? It’s not like you’re into Ryan or anything. You should be happy your two friends like each other. She made a face at the thought.
