“You’re late. New group giving you fits?” Isaiah asked.
“Always.” Mark gave him what was probably a rather tired smile. He’d been assigned to stay a BUD/S instructor for this next class. It meant more regular time home with the family, more time with Johnson, who’d become a real friend, and more time turning recruits into fully functional SEALs. Besides, Swenson was back in this class, and Mark wouldn’t miss watching him take his shot for anything. Life didn’t give many second chances—he knew firsthand how rare that was, and he wanted to witness this one up close.
And he was thankful every day for his own second chance, the one Isaiah had given him. He leaned in for more of a real kiss from his husband. “So who all is here?”
“Aunt Louise is setting the table in the dining room.” Isaiah grinned broadly. Few things seemed to make him as happy as a crowd around the big table in there. “Grandma’s dozing in front of the TV, and Aunt Cecily is playing dolls with Zoe. Ben’s manning the grill. He brought the dogs. Maddox is on the way with dessert. Bacon just went wheels up—said he texted you that his team’s deploying.”
“Ha. He’s just afraid we’ll ask him to babysit again.” Mark laughed. “And your dad?”
“Here. And hungry.” Isaiah’s dad came into the kitchen from the back of the house. Back from his summer research, he was spending the week with them before the coming semester, and Mark had a feeling they’d be seeing more of him that fall. “And ready to hear your big news.”
“It’s about the judge,” Daphne announced. “The one who asked all the questions.” The judge at the guardianship hearing had indeed asked Daphne several questions directly, mainly just confirming things in the court investigator’s report. It had been scary for Daphne, but she’d done great.
“The guardianship orders came?” Isaiah’s father asked. “Finally. And the other ruling you’re waiting on?”
“It came too. We are officially out of probate. Tom Yates called yesterday, but we wanted to wait, tell everyone together. The court found that I have ownership of the house, thanks to the way my parents structured their wills, so no sale will be necessary. We can stay here.”
It could have gotten very legally and financially complicated had the court found the children had half interest in the house through Danielle, and Isaiah had adamantly refused to let Mark cede his interest to him. So now, the house was his, and Tom Yates had already drawn up the paperwork that would leave the house to Isaiah and the kids if anything happened to Mark.
“And your uncle?” Aunt Louise joined them in the kitchen “He can’t be happy.”
“He’s not. But the court named Isaiah and me joint guardians, both physical and financial, so he doesn’t get a say. The court didn’t find his arguments compelling, and the judge said she was impressed by the court investigator’s report about our family.”
Mark doubted his relationship with his uncle would ever be repaired, but he couldn’t be bothered to feel too terrible about it. If the man was determined to be that narrow-minded, he simply didn’t deserve Mark and his family in his life.
“So much trouble.” Aunt Louise shook her head. “Such an ugly fuss. Well, I’m glad that’s over.”
“We all are.” Isaiah put an arm around Mark. “And now that we know we’re staying and that we’re officially a family, we wanted to celebrate.”
“We’re a family!” Daphne twirled. “You hear that, Liam? The judge lady says Uncle Mark and Uncle Ikey get to keep us forever.”
“That’s right.” Mark’s voice went hoarse. “Forever and ever. You’re ours.”
“Unca!” Liam pulled up on the low kids’ table. And then he let go, took his first lurching step toward them both. Then another. “Unca!”
“Come on,” Isaiah coached. “You can do it.”
“Go, Liam, go!” Mark had never celebrated two steps harder.
One step. Then another. And another. That’s how we got through this. Together. Each step they’d taken over the past six months had gotten them here, to this moment, to the family they were now. And at the center was Isaiah. His heart. The thing that Mark had walked toward when grief had nearly blinded him. And now they walked together. Until they weren’t just enduring, but thriving. Flourishing. One step. Then another.
* * * * *
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Read on for an excerpt from WHEELS UP, book four in Annabeth Albert’s OUT OF UNIFORM series
Available now from Carina Press and Annabeth Albert
When a SEAL lieutenant discovers that his super-secret online hookup is his team’s newest enlisted SEAL, he must decide whether regulations will be enough to keep him from following his heart.
Read on for an excerpt from WHEELS UP, book four in Annabeth Albert’s OUT OF UNIFORM series
Chapter One
Let’s meet.
Dustin stared at his phone like it might suddenly turn into a live grenade. Which, en route from San Diego to Baltimore on a commercial airline flight, would be a very bad thing indeed.
Meet. As in a real, live, in-person meeting with the guy he’d been talking to for months on Joe4Joe. And sure, plenty of guys used the military-themed hookup app to do just that, adding “DTF” to their profiles and going straight for easy local meat that was “down to fuck,” not wanting to waste time on cyber. But that wasn’t Dustin.
His phone vibrated again with a new message. You there? This doesn’t have to be a big thing. If you’re going to be in the DC area, we might as well go for the live-action version of our usual, don’t you think?
Heat arced up Dustin’s spine at the mention of live action. Jesus. Just the idea had him squirming in the tight seat. This had all started because Dustin was traveling to DC—Annapolis to be more precise, which he wasn’t sharing with the guy he still knew mainly as Saucer-Man—when Saucer-Man had messaged him, looking to see if Dustin would be around that night for chatting. And Dustin had been truthful, in the same vague sense he always was with Saucer-Man, telling him he was on a plane headed for the DC area for the weekend.
What he didn’t mention was that he was headed to the Naval Academy for two alumni functions—dinner that night and then a ceremony in the morning. But he was bored as heck with the long flight, so he’d paid for the Wi-Fi upgrade and figured he might as well use it by talking to his favorite chat buddy. It was a bit of novelty, flying commercial anyway, but he’d wanted to be sure that he’d be in Annapolis on time, something that wasn’t always guaranteed when trying to catch military flights. However, he’d forgotten how his big frame did not fit in coach. He’d been excited to see that Saucer-Man was online, pulse thrumming like it always did when he saw the little light next to his name in Dustin’s contact list on messenger.
Not free until tomorrow night, he hedged on a reply, not wanting to completely shut down his friend. He’d known that Saucer-Man was on the East Coast, but hadn’t quite realized he was driving distance to DC until he’d proposed this absurd idea of meeting.
That’s fine, the reply came quickly. It’ll take me a bit to drive up anyway. I just happen to be off this weekend, and it seems a shame to waste it.
Dustin wasn’t sure exactly what Saucer-Man did—something involving security. He sounded like an MP, and judging from his Southern accent when they did video chat, Dustin had always pictured him stationed further south.
This is crazy, Dustin typed back. We don’t really know each other.
That wasn’t strictly true of course—they had six months of conversing under their belts, and he knew plenty about the guy, knew that he liked cold pizza, that he had a crush on Dierks Bentley, that he worried about his family, and that he liked the same terrible 1950s sci-fi as Dustin. Oh and Dustin knew what he sounded like when he came. All sorts of details
, both intimate and mundane.
The guy’s reply took a few moments, long enough for Dustin’s neck to start sweating. He wasn’t sure what he wanted the response to be. Finally his phone buzzed. So we’ll play it cool. Safe. I can meet you at the Smithsonian or someplace public. There’s a new narwhal exhibit I’ve been wanting to check out at the natural history museum.
See, Dustin did know this guy, because that was absolutely plausible—in addition to fifties sci-fi, he loved nature documentaries and shows, especially ones about weird creatures. They’d watched more than one shark show together while chatting. Still though, it was tough to shake the feeling that he might be being played. How will I recognize you? he asked.
That wasn’t the same as the outright refusal Dustin should be making, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. He could recite poetry about the other guy’s dick and lean, wiry body, but he’d only ever seen his face in deep shadows, usually hidden by a hat pulled down or a pillow. And hell, this entire endeavor was all about Dustin’s curiosity, and Saucer-Man knew it.
The reply came slower this time and had the little spinning symbol for a file uploading. Here. Probably past time I showed you my ugly mug. Don’t share in any of the forums, okay? Look for me around four-ish?
Holy fuck. It was a picture. And not a dick pic or selfie of his abs, but a plain old normal safe-for-work shot of a guy in a white T-shirt, not smiling with broody eyes and dark, almost black hair. Dustin’s first thought was how the guy was younger than he’d expected—not painfully young like a new recruit, but still younger than Dustin’s thirty-two, probably in his mid-twenties. His second thought was how fucking cute the guy was. Just his type with the soulful eyes and slim-but-strong shoulders and hint of scruff along his jaw.
Wait. Not his type. Dustin wasn’t supposed to have a type of guy, at least not so far as anyone in his life knew. This was crazy. Absolutely crazy.
Still there? Did I scare you off?
Oops. The guy was probably waiting for a return picture of Dustin or for him to say something to break the endless minutes of silence while he tried not to freak the fuck out. He was a Navy SEAL, for fuck’s sake. He could handle a little picture.
No. Just thinking. You look good. Was that the right compliment? With a girl, Dustin would know better what to say, how to compliment her hair or her eyes or her choice of tops, but he was still feeling out his way around guys, especially beyond the trite comments on dick pics that passed for foreplay online.
And how will **I** recognize **you** ;) Saucer-Man didn’t give up easy, which was one of the things Dustin really enjoyed about him, how the guy could be take-charge and assertive without being overbearing.
Dustin had to think fast. He didn’t have many solo selfies on his phone—all the pictures that showed his face also had his brother or his friends in them, and he sure wasn’t going to try to take a passable shot in the middle of a packed flight. Plus, his military training made him reluctant to share a face pic—one never knew when something would wind up in the wrong hands. Finally, he typed, I packed my Oregon Ducks T-shirt, but I’m not sure this is the best idea... I don’t even know your name.
The woman in the seat next to Dustin shifted about uncomfortably, glaring at him. Hey, it wasn’t Dustin’s fault that God had chosen to make him six four and built like a soccer forward with big shoulders and big thighs. This was one of the rare times that he wouldn’t mind being more normal sized like his younger brother, Dylan. He tried to give the woman his best smile while waiting for a reply.
You can call me Wes. And I’m not going to ravish you in the middle of the museum, even if you ask nice, okay? We’ll look at some stuff, maybe grab a beer after. It’ll be fine. Are you afraid someone will see you out with a guy? I can promise no PDA if that helps.
God, this would be so much easier if Saucer-Man—Wes—wasn’t so freaking nice. He was always like this in chat too, sensing when Dustin was nervous or reluctant, and knowing exactly what to say to calm him down. And just like how Dustin knew him, he knew Dustin too, knew that his bisexuality was something he usually kept on the serious down low.
I’m not afraid of PDA. That was a lie, a bit of bravado he felt obligated to make. Truth was that the thought of PDA made him both itchy and jumpy—like his skin wasn’t quite up to the task of holding in all his nerves. He’d never gone further than cyber with another guy, and the risk of discovery was a big reason why. He was dying to get Wes’s hands all over him, find out if his fantasies did the reality any justice, but the chance—however small—of someone seeing him on a date with Wes made his heart pound.
Well, then let’s do this. Aren’t you at least a little curious?
Oh there was that word again. Dustin was more than curious. He wanted to know if this incredible chemistry could be duplicated in person. Wanted to know if Wes could make his pulse race from across the room, wanted to know what Wes smelled and tasted like. Yes, he was more than a little curious.
But curiosity could be a dangerous thing, as he well knew. Cautious prudence was the better tactic. Meeting someone he knew online, even someone he liked as much as Saucer—Wes—was a bad idea. He’d never told him he was a SEAL, of course. He knew better than that. All the guys on Joe4Joe went nuts for SEALs, and every third dude there claimed to be one. No, it was easier to be Godzilla, the guy who let people assume he was a marine and who let his faceless pics do the talking for him. Up until he met Saucer-Man, he’d mainly used the app for pic swapping and the occasional no-faces cyber with guys he never heard from again.
But Wes was different—he wasn’t just an avatar of a 1950s movie poster, he was someone who made Dustin laugh, who was fun to talk to even about stupid stuff like band names and food aversions, and who knew how to turn his crank like no one else ever had. And he’d kept coming back. Even when Dustin had been gone for a while on a mission, Saucer-Man had been there to take things back up again. Funny how this online connection had become almost like a real friendship, one Dustin valued far more than he usually let himself admit.
But it wasn’t real, of course. Couldn’t be. This was just his super-nice jerk-off buddy. Who wanted to meet in person. Holy fuck. What was he supposed to do? Dustin could lead guys into the most dangerous of missions, jump into the pitch-black sky for a HALO jump, and swim miles, but he couldn’t figure out what to reply to Wes. After several tries at typing and erasing messages, another one came in from Wes.
Tell you what. I’m going to come up to see the exhibit anyway. I’ve been meaning to get out of here. If you’re there, we’ll talk, have that beer. If not, I’ll go hit up some Dupont bars after I see the museum. No pressure.
No pressure. Ha. Dustin was feeling all kinds of pressure, especially down south. His body really wanted him to say yes. And he really needed to type something. Wes was sticking his neck out, making this overture, and Dustin was reacting like some seventeen-year-old virgin. He could have a freaking beer with the guy, right?
Maybe, he typed at last. Just a beer.
Maybe they’d have terrible in-person chemistry. Maybe Dustin wouldn’t be turned on in the slightest. Maybe they’d walk around, look at the exhibit, and realize what a stupid idea this was. Hell, maybe Wes wouldn’t like him. Here he was, all assuming that Wes would want in his pants from the get-go, when for all he knew, Wes really did just want a friendly beer.
See you there, Wes replied, adding an emoticon of a whale.
Holy fuck. What had he agreed to? Breathing like he’d done an hour of wind sprints, Dustin pocketed his phone. Was he really going to do this? He’d spent years running from his attraction to other men, never venturing beyond the relative safety and anonymity of the internet. Was he ready to take that step for a guy he didn’t really know? Could he trust Wes?
You can always change your mind. He had over twenty-four hours to do just that, to talk some sense into himself, to remind himself who and what he was and what he
couldn’t have.
Don’t miss WHEELS UP by Annabeth Albert.
Available wherever Carina Press ebooks are sold.
www.CarinaPress.com
Copyright © 2017 by Annabeth Albert
Author Note
As always, I tried to be as accurate as possible in my depictions of military life. The reality is that dealing with personal crises, as Wizard must in this book, can be extraordinarily challenging for our military families—leave is not always guaranteed. I took a few liberties with getting Wizard the SEAL instructor billet, but tried to stay as close to the process as possible after talking with several people in the know. I also consulted with attorneys about California family law and the court system, and their assistance was greatly appreciated. Any inaccuracies or liberties are solely my own. Thanks to the military and special ops boards and blogs that do an amazing job providing information about special ops and the lives of the people who serve. I’m also indebted to the resources of AVEN—for those looking to learn more about asexuality, the resources on their website are wonderful.
Acknowledgments
A.M., Brian, Brien, Edie, and Wendy all read early versions of this book, and their insights were absolutely invaluable in helping me achieve my vision for this story. Layla Reyne and Karen Stivali keep me on track with sprints. My editor, Deb Nemeth, really helped me to home in on Wizard’s journey, and the story is far richer for her insights. My team at Carina Press is so appreciated—the editors, proofers, publicity, marketing, and cover teams have all been incredible with their support for this series. Thank you guys from the bottom of my heart. I couldn’t do this without you. My family has been a rock of support, and my husband’s insights on military life continue to enrich the series. My Facebook fan group, Annabeth’s Angels, is another source of support and I am so grateful to every reader who has reached out to me about the series—your notes, reviews, shares, mentions, likes, and comments are all so appreciated and you keep me going on hard days. I have amazing readers, and I treasure each of you.
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