“Tell me one cool fact from one of your favorite periods.”
“In India in the 1600s, there was a king named Shivaji who rebelled against the emperor. The emperor captured him and his teenage son and held them prisoner. But Shivaji was very popular, and the emperor was afraid that his people would rise up if he treated their leader badly. So instead of throwing them in a dungeon, he kept them under house arrest in a house befitting a king, but under heavy guard.
Shivaji pretended to be sick, and asked the emperor for permission to make donations to temples so the priests would pray for his recovery. The emperor was a little suspicious, so he gave him permission but doubled the guard on his house. Shivaji ordered two gigantic fruit baskets delivered to the house every day, so he could inspect them and make sure all the fruit was perfect, then sent them on to the temples.
At first the guards searched every basket, when they went in and when they went out. But they were enormous baskets and it was a giant pain to have to take out hundreds of mangoes and then put them back in. Twice. And if they bruised any fruit, Shivaji would complain to the emperor that the guards were disrespecting the priests and trying to sabotage his recovery. Finally the guards couldn’t take it anymore and just started waving them through.”
Ethan started to laugh, seeing where this was going.
Triumphantly, Destiny concluded, “And of course, Shivaji and his son were in the next two fruit baskets. Buried under a layer of perfect, unbruised mangoes.”
“Awesome story,” Ethan said. “History nerd.”
Aunt Lizzie came over with an enormous platter and a pitcher of iced tea. “Here you go.”
Steam rose up from the plates. Ethan applied himself to the food. The pulled pork was just the right balance of sweet and spicy, the ribs were smoky and juicy, the coleslaw was crisp and creamy, and the cornbread to mop up the sauce was sweet and crumbly and fresh out of the oven.
They didn’t do much talking as they ate, but that was fine with him. Getting some food in his stomach made him feel more present, as if eating here in the US was what made him really believe that he was home again. It always took him a while to feel that in his bones as well as know it in his mind. The first few nights back, he’d wake up uncertain of where he was.
If Destiny was beside me, I’d always know, he thought.
Though that was hardly the main reason why he’d want to wake up next to her. She was gorgeous and sexy, funny and quick-witted, and they had so much in common and got along so well. He’d had so much fun talking to her, and it was weirdly hot to watch her eating, putting her meal away with none of the self-consciousness that lots of women had when they ate in front of a man, and yet so neatly that she had yet to get a single speck of sauce on her sparkly dress. But there was something else about her that he liked which was harder to identify. Something about her felt like… coming home.
Yeah. Definitely looking forward to that dance date.
Ethan didn’t want to get ahead of himself. But he couldn’t help hoping that they’d do more than just dance, and that it’d be more than just one night.
Being a Recon Marine made it hard to have anything last beyond a quick fling. He was gone most of the time, usually on almost no notice. When he left, he couldn’t say when he’d come back, and when he did return, he couldn’t say where he’d been or what he’d done. He had buddies in the Marines. And he had his sister, of course. But other than them, he didn’t have any close relationships, let alone a serious girlfriend. What woman would be willing to put up with a man who was never around and couldn’t talk about his life?
Destiny might, he thought. She’s a vet herself. She’d understand.
But once he imagined an actual relationship with her, he couldn’t imagine spending most of his life away from her.
A voice from deep down inside of him said quietly, You won’t be a Marine forever.
Another, much louder voice snapped, Once a Marine, always a Marine!
Both were true. He’d always be a Marine at heart. But he couldn’t keep deploying into combat forever. All else aside, eventually he’d be too old for it. And his term of service was coming up in two years. He’d have to decide then whether or not to re-enlist.
Maybe he shouldn’t. There were plenty of civilian jobs that might suit him. He might enjoy being a bodyguard, like Destiny. He could talk to her about it—hell, he could talk to her boss Hal, see if there might be room in the agency for him some time in the future. If she knew he’d come home to her forever when his two years were up, would she wait for him? He had a feeling she would.
Now you’re really getting ahead of yourself, he thought. You haven’t even gone on that first date yet.
But he didn’t feel like he was rushing. He felt calm and ready and brimming with excited anticipation, like he did every time he got that call to move out. Like he only had one life, and this was his chance to live it to the fullest. Only this time, maybe it was also his chance to share it, and find a connection like he’d never imagined he could have.
Aunt Lizzie served their peach cobbler with a glance and a wink at him, like she could read his mind.
“Everything was fantastic,” he told her. “It was… The Five Pigs of Deliciousness.”
Aunt Lizzie walked away, chuckling to herself. Destiny pulled a face at him. “Weirdo.”
Raising his voice so Aunt Lizzie could hear—that woman obviously had ears like an elephant—Ethan said, “I mean, the Five Hogs of Heaven.”
“Super-weirdo,” Destiny said. “Thought you jarheads got down to business. Why are you sitting there babbling nonsense when the world’s best peach cobbler is right in front of you?”
She leaned over the table, giving him a heart-stopping view of her generous cleavage, grabbed his fork, stuck it in his dish of peach cobbler, and offered him a bite. Feeling a little dazed, both by the view and by the gesture, Ethan opened his mouth and let her feed him the bite. The streusel topping was crisp and buttery, the peaches soft and sweet. Maybe it was the wor
ld’s greatest peach cobbler. But he suspected that he’d have thought the Five Dicks of Death were the greatest thing ever if Destiny was the one putting them in his mouth.