by T. I. Lowe
He’s all business, so I do as I’m told and sip water for the two-minute drive to the beach park. It takes longer to get me in and out of the Jeep than it did to actually drive it.
Beck remains all business throughout the class, shouting out orders in his usual alpha male tone, but his eyes never stray from me for very long this morning. I receive no special treatment from him, but he doesn’t call me out when I skip over anything that would have me using my right hand. No planks, burpees, or push-ups for me today, which is why I think he concludes with a four-mile run. This effectively wakes my mouth up, and I protest for miles 1 through 3.
Mile 1…
“Really? Running again?” I yell from the back of the group.
Mile 2…
“Did we pay this jerk an obscene amount of money just to run around the beach like a bunch of idiots?” I screech a few feet back from the group and kick at the sand for good measure.
Mile 3…
“You’re phoning it in, Coach Boring!” I yell and am about to stop altogether when Beck doubles back and starts pushing me into a running pace.
“Either shut it, Blume, or we double it to eight miles!” He shoves me none too politely and barks out, “Move it, move it, move it!”
Between his threat and the death glares from the others, I keep my lips sealed during the last mile and move it.
As everyone gathers their bearings and water bottles, Nadine takes a step in my direction. It’s quite noticeable the brunette has lost a considerable amount of weight in the last two months. Hard to believe the McCaffery torture is almost complete.
“This morning was tough,” she comments before taking a long pull from her water bottle.
I look over my shoulder to see who she’s talking to, but no one is there. “Umm… yeah,” I reply, hoping she is in fact talking to me.
“Your hand looks awful. What happened?” She steps closer and looks it over.
I try flexing my fingers out, but the pain begs me not to try that again for a while. “Bar fight,” I say, and then sniff with played-up attitude.
Nadine snorts. “You’re a nut.”
“Is that why you never speak to me?” I scan the ocean as the sun starts dancing along the top of it in a soft peach hue.
“No. It’s because I’m scared if I do, you’ll get me in trouble during class and I’ll have to run or something else equally as torturous.”
We both laugh at that, even though it’s the truth. “So, why talk to me now?”
“Beck suggested it. He thinks we have a lot in common and would make good friends. I think he may be right from what I’ve gathered over the summer.”
That sends my eyes on a quest to find him. He’s speaking with a group of guys from class, but has his sights set on me. We give each other a quick nod before I turn back to Nadine.
“Confession, I’ve never had a girlfriend,” I mumble, embarrassed by this truth.
“I’m married, and I don’t kiss girls.” She holds her hands up with her declaration.
I huff a small laugh. “You know what I mean.”
She smiles, and the expression lights up her face. Really looking at this woman for the first time, I’m struck by her understated beauty—eyes that match the hue of her brown hair and sharp cheekbones that are beginning to really show off with the recent weight loss.
“Yes, I know what you mean, but I can hardly believe such a lively character as yourself doesn’t have bookoodles of girlfriends.”
Taking the last sip of water, I toss the empty bottle into a beach receptacle. “Why’s that hard to believe?”
“You’re hilarious. The last two months have been the most entertaining months I’ve had in a long time.”
“Well now… You’ve made my morning and now I need to treat you to coffee,” I hear myself suggesting and can hardly believe it.
“Sounds good to me. I’ve got another hour before my husband leaves for work and I’ll be back on mommy duty. There’s a coffee shop a few streets up from here.”
“Yes, but I live closer. We can sit on the deck and chill for a while.”
“Sounds even better.” She grins while looking over at Beck. “I noticed you had a ride this morning, but I can drive you home.”
“Okay. Just let me tell him and I’ll be ready to go.” I skip over to the picnic table where Beck is collecting his belongings. He bends forward to grab his mesh equipment bag, and it’s the perfect angle for me to plant a kiss on his stubbly cheek.
He straightens and offers a small smile. “What was that for?”
“Just thanking you for wanting to take care of me even though I can do it myself.” He has no idea how it’s pulled at my heart for him to take the time to seek a friend out for me.
“Well, that’s a relief. I figured your mean fist would be teaching me a lesson after that run.” His right eyebrow quirks up.
I ignore his jab and plow on, “Look, Nadine is going to give me a ride home.”
“Okay.”
Thinking we’re done, I turn to walk off, but he hauls me back by the hem of my shirt. Before I can protest, the man lays a kiss on me that wipes my brain clear of any vocal skills.
“I want to see you later,” he demands against my mouth, and I love how he does that, not even talking will get in his way of kissing me.
I manage a dazed head nod.
“Inside your house this time,” he clarifies.
Before I can shake my head in defiance, Beck releases me and saunters off. Danged if that man just didn’t take another part of my soul with him. He keeps this up and he’ll own the whole darn thing.
“I didn’t just see that,” Nadine stutters from behind me.
Still watching him walk off, I mutter, “Uhh…” Not quite a word but getting there.
“Shoot. That means I lose the bet,” she grumbles, breaking the trance.
“What bet?” I ask, turning to eye my new friend who may not be from what she just admitted.
“Most of the group has a bet going on that by the end of this course one of two things will happen. Beck will finally reach his limit with you and kill you off, or lay claim to you like a wild caveman.”
My eyes narrow. “And you were on the murder side of this bet?”
She holds her hands up and then motions toward a grey minivan in the parking lot, so we head in that direction. “Only in the beginning, but they wouldn’t let me switch sides once we shook on it. And the killing is a little exaggerated. It’s more on the lines he finally kicks you out of class.”
“It’s that serious?”
“Oh, yes. The losers have to treat the winners to that pricy seafood buffet on Main Street. Looks like I’m paying up.”
We climb in after Nadine clears the passenger seat that’s littered with animal crackers and small toys.
“Why? We’ve got a few more classes and he’s not dragged me off by my hair yet.”
Nadine snickers as she maneuvers the van out of the parking lot. “Now that would be a sight.”
“Take a right and it’s two blocks on the right.” I pause for a second, but can’t help asking, “What brought this ridiculous bet on in the first place?”
“The two of you look at the other like you either want to choke or kiss the other to death.”
I know that’s exactly how I feel most every time I’m around him. “Humph. There’s still some time left. My disappearing isn’t out of the question just yet.”
“It’d save me fifty bucks. I would appreciate that.” She grins. “I’ve got to know, do you make it a habit of getting drunk and crashing fitness classes?”
“Only when I’m bored,” I deadpan.
She hoots. “That was priceless. I had to pull out my dusty military training to keep my composure so I wouldn’t crack up at your silliness.”
I glance over at her and see the grin is still plastered on her face. “Was I that bad?”
Nadine flicks her eyes to me and then back to the road. “Beck had us doing squats at on
e point, but you were in your own little world doing some funky dance move instead.”
I scoff. “Nu-uh. I don’t even dance.”
“You were that morning and wearing sunshades before dawn!” She shakes her head and swats my arm teasingly. “I think you were doing something called the butterfly. Your legs were going in and out and your head was bobbing to music no one else could hear.” She giggles while wiggling her shoulders in mock dancing.
“I sure am glad I don’t remember any of it.” I roll my eyes and look out the window. “One more house up.”
Nadine parks the van in my driveway and gazes out the windshield at the white cottage. “Cute place.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, feeling awkward receiving a compliment. Why is that such a hard thing to do, anyway?
Once the coffee has brewed, we gather a cup each and plop down in the lounge chairs on the deck.
“Ahh… Now this is the life. Let’s trade.” Nadine sips her coffee in contentment.
“My life ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Trust me.”
“And what exactly is your life?” She looks over at me in interest.
I try shrugging the uncomfortableness off my shoulders, and mumble, “I’m a writer.”
“No way. That sounds so… romantic.”
I release a loud snort. “Romantic? Hardly.”
“What is it you write?”
“Novels.” I can’t believe I didn’t fudge the truth, and it feels good to own it for a change.
“So you get paid to create fictional worlds?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“Romantic.”
“Whatever.” I sling out my go-to word and turn the tables on Nadine. “Beck mentioned you were in the military. What branch?”
“Marines.”
“No way. You’re a Marine?”
“Was.”
“Once a Marine, always a Marine.” I look at her in admiration. Nadine is obviously one tough cookie. “Now that has a romantic air.”
“Please.” She huffs out a nervous cough, not liking the attention, and I realize we’ve got a lot in common.
“Say, how would you feel about allowing me to interview you?”
“For what?” She takes another sip of coffee.
“A book I’m toying around with where the heroine has a military background.” Truthfully, I’ve been brainstorming the story all summer since meeting the enigmatic Sergeant Beck McCaffery, but I want the woman in the story to be the soldier.
“Oh, well, that could be neat. But I don’t have much free time. Between raising my babies and trying to get back into shape, there’s very little time left.” She inhales slowly, before whispering, “Plus, I make a good many trips home to check on my little brother… He has cancer.”
“Oh… I’m so sorry to hear that.” I reach over and grasp her forearm, hoping it offers her some comfort.
“Thank you.” Nadine smiles. “He’s tough, so I know he will beat it.”
We grow silent and remain in it for a while as I study Nadine in my periphery. She worries her lip and gazes out at the beach in deep thought. It’s clear she needs a reality break. When she tries hiding a sniff, I decide to push the interview idea once more.
“We can meet for coffee before your husband goes to work once or twice a week. I’d really like to have a real-life heroine help me bring to life my fictional one.” My fingers are already itching to get started.
“I’m no hero, Harper.” She shakes her head, finishes the last of the coffee, and sets the empty mug on the table between us.
“Nonsense. Isn’t it true you toughed it out in Iraq for not one but two tours?”
“Yes—”
“That settles it. I’ve got myself a war heroine!” I hop up, retrieve her empty cup for a refill, and go grab a notepad and pen.
The hour goes by way too fast, but ends with Nadine promising to come by after class next week. As the minivan pulls away, I close the door and head to the office in excited awe. Beck isn’t the only one with battle scars. A sniper missed Nadine’s heart by mere centimeters and the lady lives to tell the tale.
My pen is still scribbling over the notepad when a knocking starts up against the front door at dusk. Tossing the pen down, I flex my aching fingers a few time and head to the door. I pull it open and see Beck standing there in a blue V-neck tee and faded jeans.
“Want to pen a scene in your life tonight?” He follows the question with a killer grin, sealing my fate.
I’d go wherever he leads right at this moment, but retort, “I’m not big on socializing. Had my fill of that nonsense last night.”
“What if I promise it’ll just be the two of us?”
Realizing I’m still standing by the door gawking at him instead of inviting him inside, I step back and wave Beck in. He brushes a sweet kiss on my cheek before walking past me. “I need to grab a quick shower so make yourself at home.” I point to the den but halt at the door of my bedroom. “What should I wear?”
“Doesn’t matter. Shirt and jeans.” Beck shrugs before settling on the couch.
I hurry through a shower, work some serum in my damp hair to combat the frizz, and go with jeans and a lacy tank top.
“That was quick,” he comments when I rush back to the den.
“I’m not high maintenance.” I slide my feet into a pair of flip-flops and follow Beck out the door.
“Good to know.” He walks me to the Jeep and opens the passenger door for me.
“You have doors now?”
“Yeah. I put them back on this afternoon, since I’m going to have a passenger from now on.”
“You are?”
He leans in and takes care of the seatbelt for me. “That’s my plan and I need to keep you safe,” he whispers in my ear before placing a soft kiss there.
Stunned, I sit here and watch him close my door and maneuver around the Jeep to load up. No words come to me until he’s pulled out of the driveway and has us heading inland.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Twenty minutes later, I see we’ve parked beside a secluded pond in the country.
“Parking? Really?”
Chuckling, Beck reaches behind my seat and produces a basket. “Picnicking.”
“Oh.”
He reaches back again and hands me an old quilt. “Will you carry this?”
“Sure.” I gather the worn blanket in my arms and scoot out of the Jeep and into the balmy night. The air feels thicker out here. I take a deep breath, and instead of the usual briny scent, the air is infused with an earthiness. Notes of murky water and freshly mowed grass mingle in the breeze.
While I gaze around, Beck leads us over to the pond bank.
“How do you know about this place, Mr. New-to-Town?” I ask as he helps me spread out the quilt.
“I personal train Nadine. This is part of her property. She suggested it when I asked her earlier where to take you for a picnic.” He sets the basket down and starts unloading plastic containers.
“You asked her?” I cross my arms and look around at the fairly large pond. It’s shaped similar of a kidney bean and has a small dock on the other side.
Ignoring my question, Beck points to the quilt. “Sit.” He settles down beside me and hands over a fork. “Mind if I say grace?” he asks.
Before I can answer, an owl hoots out from somewhere in the midst of the patch of woods surrounding us. I giggle and bow my head, not really caring one way or the other.
“Thank you, Lord, for this woman who you’ve allowed to crash my life. Thank you for this time we have together and for the food. Amen.”
I lift my head and see Beck doing the same, feeling peculiar about him choosing to thank God for me of all things. My lips remain glued until realizing he’s just piled a paper plate full of food and is shoving it into my hand.
“No way. I can’t eat all of this.” I try shoving back but he releases it and starts fixing his own plate. The mo
on and stars are bright enough I can see the contents clearly—shrimp salad with cherry tomatoes and cucumbers and a generous scoop of fresh fruit. “Where’d this come from?”
“My kitchen.” Beck pops a shrimp into his mouth and then digs around in the basket, producing two bottles of sparkling water. He hands me one and takes a long pull from his.
“You made this?” I set the bottle down and take a nibble of shrimp. The hints of dill in the creamy dressing pairs well with the juicy seafood and before I know it I’ve put a good dent into the mound on my plate.
“Yes. My mom taught me how to cook at a young age, saying the true way to a woman’s heart was food and not flowers.” Beck takes another bite as he scoots even closer to me, blocking out most of the breeze. He seems to always be in some protective stance around me, making me feel safe.
“Funny you say that. Jack has been giving me flowers since I was no more than six years old.” I test some of the fruit and discover honey drizzled over it, making the treat even sweeter.
Beck glances at me and then back to his plate. “You’d rather have flowers?”
“From Jack, sure, but he’s not trying to find a way to my heart.”
“You’ve never been more than friends?” He looks back at me, skepticism pinching his forehead.
“Why do you keep questioning that?” I drop my fork onto the plate and set it down.
Beck reaches over and hands it back. “I’m just trying to figure out how much of a chance I have with you.” He points to the plate. “Eat.”
“I consider Jack my gross big brother, but love him enough to pick him over pettiness any day.” I’m not sure if Beck is a jealous kind of guy, but I won’t be putting up with it.
He smirks. “The things he says to you don’t sound very brotherly to me.”
“Jack mouths off because he knows it embarrasses me, but he’s harmless.” I keep picking at my food to pacify him while listening to the crickets chirping. I’ve gotten so used to the sound of waves roaring a low hum at the cottage that all of the noises out here are quite interesting. “So, what’s this scene supposed to be about tonight?” I wave my fork between us before spearing a strawberry and popping it into my mouth.
