Trying It All

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Trying It All Page 22

by Christi Barth


  “That’d be the shortest speech on record,” he joked. “No, it’s about all of you. The Naked Men.”

  Josh brushed muffin crumbs off his cargo pants. “Not that I don’t appreciate the shout-out, but shouldn’t a speech at the Coasties’ Homecoming be about…I dunno. How sea spray gets you revved and horny.”

  Bracing his elbows on his knees, Griff said, “Look, the Academy asked me to speak because of what we’ve done with the blog and now the podcast. They want to emphasize that you can lead a life of service and brotherhood outside the Guardsmen, too. So that we live our creed always. Endeavor to do more, rather than less. Bring solutions, not problems. Be a model citizen in the community in which I live.”

  Holy shit. The U.S. Coast Guard thought the Naked Men were doing a stand-up job? Riley almost fist-pumped the air. Instead, he gave a tight nod. “That might be the best compliment ever.”

  “That’s why you wanted us to come along?” Logan asked, raising his eyebrow.

  “Yeah.” Griff swallowed so hard Riley could almost hear his Adam’s apple grinding against his esophagus. “You all have to be there when I give you a tip of the hat. That’s why I’m so nervous.”

  The only sound in the cabin for a long minute was the steady thrum of the engines and the quiet clatter of china and silverware from the galley. The gut-deep impact of the honor that Griffin had afforded them needed to settle.

  Finally, with a voice that was suspiciously husky, Knox said, “I can fix your nerves. Whole new topic. Halloween’s right around the corner.”

  Logan shifted to hang his elbow over the seat and look at Knox. “You mean our raging, legendary party? The one that I’ve missed for the last three years so it had better be fucking epic beyond all knowing this year?”

  “Yeah. We’re printing that on the back of the envelope,” Knox said in a tone drier than the recycled air coming out of the vents.

  “Envelopes. You’re a laugh riot. That’s so 2010.”

  “Piss on a perfectly good joke, Marsh. Whatever. The point is, I’ve got a theme for our costumes. The Avengers. Includes the women, too. I’d be Iron Man, obviously, and Madison can be Pepper Potts. Griff’s Thor, with Chloe as Jane. Logan, you and Brooke should be Hawkeye and Black Widow.”

  “Which leaves me as Captain America. Nice.” Josh lifted his crystal flute in a toast.

  Knox shot his cuffs in the two-step walk up the aisle. Because that was the kind of pretentious-style snob he was. Even though none of them gave a shit about the French cuffs to the red and white striped shirt or the cuff links that had once belonged to Howard Hughes (a fellow genius who, according to Knox, didn’t get enough credit). “Why wouldn’t Ry be Captain America?”

  “Please. He’s Bruce Banner to the core.”

  Riley braced for what promised to be a shitstorm of teasing. “Actually…to assemble the Avengers? We need to include Summer, too.”

  Griff’s neck audibly snapped, he whipped it around so fast. “Really?”

  Josh’s jaw dropped. After pushing it up with the back of his hand, he said, “You’re matching-costume-serious with her?”

  “Of course he is,” Knox snorted. Shot his cuffs yet again as if in protest. “For fuck’s sake, let me skip to the end and drop some more equally unsurprising truth bombs on you nimrods. Like the ocean is blue and the Patriots deflated their footballs.”

  “So you’re the love expert now? Just because of one little engagement ring purchase?”

  “Correction. It was a three-carat, flawless canary diamond. Nothing little about it. And I’m smart enough to know that I barely know anything about love. I can spot it now, however.”

  Teasing, he’d been prepared for. Being accused of full-blown love? That crossed a fucking line. Riley shot to his feet. Elbowed hard past Knox to walk the too-short length of what used to feel like a spacious cabin. “I haven’t said that I love her. Not yet. Jesus.”

  Knox hammered right back. “Do you?”

  Riley braced his hands on the empty back row of seats. Thought about the way he’d felt three nights ago, when he sat across from Summer, butt-ass naked, eating takeout and as blissed out as he’d felt on the awesome Italian painkillers—undoubtedly not legal back here—after the bus crash.

  Then he thought about what could go wrong. How he could screw it up. How she could screw it up. How Fate could screw both of them up. “Drop it.”

  Clearing his throat, Griffin said, “I’d let that slide if this was a podcast. But it’s just us. We can all tell you’re crazy about Summer. What’d be so bad about admitting you love her?”

  Christ.

  As if it were that simple. “Everything.”

  “I’d lose my last wingman,” Josh added. “That’d suck.”

  Logan gave him the death stare. Then he got up and walked back to Riley. “This is about your PTSD, isn’t it?”

  As much as he hated the phrase “anxiety disorder,” Riley far preferred it to that acronym. The one doctors and nurses slung around and he refused to use.

  Ever.

  Because it didn’t fit. “Don’t call it that. I got anxiety, not PTSD. I’m not a soldier. I didn’t save anyone back in the Alps.”

  “You saved yourself,” Logan pointed out.

  Josh got up and clasped Riley’s shoulder. In a serious tone that he rarely broke out, he said, “You helped save me.”

  “Me too,” Knox said with a light punch to his other arm.

  Griffin joined the now ridiculous cluster of them up against the door to the bathroom. “And for fuck’s sake, Ness, you spend every damn day of your life trying to save people. Why not cut yourself a break?”

  Their words meant…everything. But he couldn’t let himself take it all in right now. Not here, with his collar suddenly too tight and his clothes too hot. Riley shrugged out of his sport coat. The light brown with a faint orange box pattern that Summer had insisted he wear. Since having her in his bed evidently meant letting her in his closet. Of course, she did it naked, so he hadn’t complained.

  “Look, Summer doesn’t just push me out of my comfort zone. My anxiety-free comfort zone that I’ve slaved to achieve.”

  “You mean the one that you’ve successfully maintained for years, with no slipups?”

  Not the point.

  “I’m saying, it’s not just that she’s…” Riley almost said bad for me. Except he couldn’t honestly say that anymore. He wouldn’t insult Summer like that. “…she’s challenging. She doesn’t believe in the future. So what if I love her?” Huh. The word popped out of his throat, no problem. “She’s convinced our future isn’t guaranteed, so there’s no point in planning for one.”

  “That’s hysterical.”

  Riley turned on Logan, arm half-cocked. “That’s not fucking funny at all.”

  “The hell it isn’t. You turn yourself inside out planning against every possible thing that could go wrong. She just assumes that they all could go wrong and marches onward. It’s such a horrible match that it works.”

  All Riley knew was that the more time he spent with Summer, the more he cared about her, the more he worried. “Do you know how worried I am about all the women doing this stupid road trip up to Connecticut? Everyone knows it’s safer to fly than drive.”

  Knox chuckled. “More irony, coming out of the mouth of ‘the NTSB Highway Safety Division’s Investigator-in-Charge.’ ”

  Yeah, whatever. He knew the stats. He just fought every day to improve them. “They could’ve just come with us on the jet.”

  Griffin held up one finger. “Did you plan three alternate routes and email them to her?”

  “Yeah.” Of course. He’d printed them out and stuck them in her purse, too. Basic safety precaution.

  Griff held up another finger, cocked an eyebrow at Knox until he dove in with the next question. “Did you check the spare—without telling her?”

  “Yeah.” Summer would’ve waved him off as hovering. Straitlaced. Annoying. When all Riley wanted to do was wrap he
r in silk and air bags and keep her safe. Why was that so hard for her to get?

  “Maybe tell her next time,” Griff said mildly. “But that’s all you can do. You’re doing your thing, and she’s doing hers. And when you get back together, you’ll both have stories to tell and be happy to see each other. That’s life, dude.”

  Like he was just supposed to accept that. Assume that she was taking every possible precaution—a woman who admitted to crossing the street without looking because “I have great legs and cars will stop for me”? Assume that he could trust her, and just turn off his worry?

  Riiiiight.

  Knox jabbed at the air with the celery from his Bloody Mary. “Don’t bust on Summer for something that’s my fault. I asked the girls to drive.”

  “What sort of douche-canoe move is that?” This whole thing would’ve been more fun with Summer cozied up next to him.

  “Well, I didn’t ask them to drive themselves. I offered to get them a Hummer limo. Madison got all uncomfortable and insisted on driving.”

  “There’s usually not so much as a hint of daylight between you and Blondie,” Logan said. “Why didn’t you want them to come with us?”

  “I’ve arranged a surprise for the lieutenant commander. And the women didn’t want any part of it.”

  That sounded suspicious. Where Knox was concerned, that usually meant something fun…but also risky. Riley scowled at him. “We’re not skydiving in, are we?”

  Knox doubled over laughing. “Not if Griff’s as good as he’s told us all these years. I know you miss flying, buddy. I got you a chopper.”

  “What?” Griff’s jaw dropped open.

  “Not to keep, for Christ’s sake. Instead of driving the hour from Tweed Airport to New London, I arranged for a helicopter. You’re going to fly us there.”

  Excitement had Griff popping up to pace. “What is it?”

  “An AW101. I told them what you flew for rescue missions and they said it’d be no trouble for you to handle.”

  “She’ll be putty in my hands.” He stroked an imaginary throttle in the air.

  Riley had to look away. But grinned his approval. “Classy move, Knox.”

  “That’s how I roll.”

  —

  Applause filled Leamy Hall. Griff had just finished giving the best damn speech ever. The women were all dabbing at their eyes. Riley had a fucking lump in his own throat. Logan had a hand braced on his forehead like he was trying to hide his face. Because they were all fucking swamped with emotion.

  Griffin had told the story—their story, the one they never shared—and said it had been his inspiration to join the Coast Guard. He’d thanked the Academy for turning him into a man who knew how to save people. And then he thanked his friends for helping him to reach out, across the country, through the Web and the podcast, to save others, with their friendship and encouragement, openness and honesty.

  It was fucking perfect.

  But when Griff tried to walk offstage, the rear admiral stopped him.

  “We now have a special presentation for Lieutenant Commander Montgomery.”

  Geez, they often joked about the other time Griff had gotten a medal. Was he getting one today? Maybe for his last rescue back in April that got captured on a phone camera and went viral? Wouldn’t that be a kick in the pants, since that was the stunt that got him yanked from piloting.

  Then Chloe walked onstage, looking like a million bucks in a white dress with deep blue flowers spearing out across it from the waist. And Riley knew. Exchanging glances down the row with the guys, he could see that they all knew, too. This was it. She’d finally hand their buddy back his balls—while keeping his heart for good.

  The fact that she’d waited to do it here, at a place that meant so much to Griffin? In a way that honored his past and tied it tightly to their future together? It proved that she got him. That Chloe truly was the right woman for Griff.

  Griff looked confused. Until he finally clued in to the tap of high heels across the stage and swung his gaze over to his girlfriend. He must’ve put the pieces together as easily as they all had. But instead of a shit-eating grin breaking out across his face, he looked…nervous.

  Ry heard them drop the L-word as often as all five of them dropped F-bombs. With all that love, and practically living together, and screwing like they were personally responsible for taking down the nation’s condom surplus, Griff still worried?

  If that was true, what the hell sort of a chance did Riley and Summer stand?

  Chloe hip-checked Griff out of the way to take over the podium’s microphone. Instead of talking to him, she addressed the auditorium, full of alumni and cadets and officers. “Many of you know Lieutenant Commander Montgomery personally. You’re probably aware that he’s never faced a situation anything but head-on. He believes he can save the world. Single-handedly. And he doesn’t like to let anyone else take the stick and pilot his helicopter or his life.”

  Yeah. She knew Griffin inside and out. As well as he did, or Josh or Knox or Logan. She saw his pigheadedness and loved him to pieces anyway.

  Huh.

  Riley looked over at Summer. She’d pulled a fancy, old-fashioned-looking handkerchief edged in lace out of her purse. She had the same rapt expression on her face that Josh had watching the Cubs finally win the last game of the World Series. For someone who didn’t believe in planning for the future? Summer sure looked like she was rooting for her friend to take the first step toward it.

  “You can imagine how much love and trust and courage it took for Griffin to not propose to me when we fell in love. He knew how much I cared. But he also knew leaping into a life together was a risk for me. So he let go of the controls. He showed me a beautiful diamond ring. But didn’t give it to me. Told me that I’d have to ask him when I was ready to be engaged.”

  “I don’t know if that was the dumbest thing he ever did, or the ballsiest,” Logan whispered.

  Riley didn’t know, either. “I think we’re about to find out.”

  “You see, I thought that falling in love was a risk.” Chloe’s hands rose to flutter right in front of her chest. Like she was trying to pull the right words straight from her heart. “Something that would yank me out of my comfort zone. Make me embrace new challenges that I wasn’t ready for, that maybe I wouldn’t be able to handle.”

  Her words hit uncomfortably close to home. They were similar enough to Riley’s reasons for being concerned about getting serious with Summer to make him wonder what exactly the women had shared on the ride up. Or if Chloe’s awful experience with surviving the mass shooting had left her with the same issues he had. Not really something that ever had come up over burgers in the backyard this summer.

  Chloe shook her head, sending her brown hair spilling down over her shoulders. “It didn’t take me long to realize that I was horribly wrong.” She turned to face Griffin, who’d pulled off his combination cap, white-knuckling it between his hands. “That, in fact, falling in love with you, being loved by you, was the safest choice I could make. That sharing my heart with you meant it would be protected and cherished forever. And I promise to do the same with yours, Griffin. So here, in front of your brothers-at-sea, your colleagues and friends and blood brothers, I don’t think I’m taking a risk at all to ask if you’ll marry me, Griffin Montgomery. If you’re ready to take that step.”

  “Semper Paratus,” he murmured. The room absolutely exploded at that, with cheers and whistles and a bunch of the cadets tossing their caps in the air. Griffin cradled Chloe’s face in his hands and kissed her deeply, seemingly oblivious to the noise, to anything but the woman in front of him.

  Summer’s fingers dug into his thigh. “Riley, what did he say? What does that mean?”

  He let out a wolf whistle of approval before answering. “It’s the Coast Guard motto. It means ‘Always Ready.’ ”

  Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes. “That’s…that’s perfect.”

  “Yeah.”

  Th
e glimmer of tears made the golden glints around her pupil sparkle. “It isn’t a risk at all, is it? Or at least, that kind of love, that kind of happiness is worth risking everything for.”

  Riley caught a tear off her cheek with his thumb. Realized that Summer might just be talking about a larger issue than Chloe and Griffin. Something more personal. He thought about how he had been happier these past few weeks than in longer than he could remember. That those moments of happiness had occurred when he was with Summer.

  He’d spent so long mired in fighting risk, mitigating it, that maybe he’d forgotten that sometimes it was the only option. That just maybe he ought to give it a try. For the right reason.

  For the right person.

  Up on the stage, Griffin dropped to one knee. He slid off his big silver Coast Guard ring with the blue center stone and held it up for Chloe. “Will you marry me, Chloe Bennett?”

  “I will. As soon as possible, please.”

  While everyone else laughed, Riley thought about Chloe and Griff being done waiting. Well, he was, too. So he hauled Summer out of the seat, to her feet, and kissed her until the room, the lights, the cheers all vanished.

  There was only the woman he loved.

  Chapter 20

  “Look at how beautiful those trees are.” Summer pointed up at whatever type of tree surrounded them in the forest. “Crimson” didn’t cover the spectrum of red, orange, burgundy, and scarlet that fluttered overhead. “The leaves have barely begun to turn at home. This is a treat.”

  Riley rolled his eyes. “Are you one of those people that’ll be jonesing for a pumpkin spice latte because of this? Because we have a house rule. No nutmeg or cinnamon—well, ever in our coffee. But none of that pumpkin spice crap topping cheesecakes and muffins and whatever else until literally Halloween.”

  “You have a house rule against nutmeg?”

  “Hey, we live with a chef and a butler considering becoming one. Food is a major topic at the rectory.”

  “I didn’t realize that you were so awash in baked goods. Clearly I should come over more often.”

  “You should.”

  His quick agreement surprised Summer. It was as if a switch had flipped in Riley, ever since Chloe and Griff’s joint proposal yesterday afternoon. He hadn’t stopped touching her. Little caresses of her back as they walked. Strokes of her thigh under the long tablecloth at their celebration dinner in the Officers’ Club. Holding her hand whenever physically possible.

 

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