Sailor Proof (Shore Leave 1)

Another topic I hadn’t exactly covered with Arthur. We were both excellent at avoiding any mention of the future and any plans later than my next day off. “So? It’s not like we don’t travel for work ourselves.”

“Exactly.” Calder pointed at me like he’d caught me in a lie. “Because he’s always been absolutely adamant that he’s never ever doing long distance. I’m not sure exactly what sort of kiss-drunk spell you put on him to make him temporarily forget he hates the navy, but emphasis on temporarily. He’s not suddenly gonna get okay with the military. You’re going to break his heart right back with your next deployment.”

And there Calder went, hitting my biggest fear. It didn’t matter how hard I fell for Arthur. My job would always be the stumbling block to a future together. Eventually Arthur would stop being patient, and that goodbye I was already dreading would come. But I also couldn’t let Calder see that dread.

“You don’t know that. And besides, we’re still working things out as we go. Long-term is a bridge to cross when we get to it.” Or a bridge to avoid. Maybe if we continued to take things one day at a time, we could bumble our way into long-term. Accidentally uncover a way to have forever. It could happen, and I tried to make myself believe the lines I was feeding Calder. “Right now we’re having a great time together, and he makes me happy. Really happy.”

That part was true, a little too true. Arthur made me happier than I could ever remember being. Everything from cooking for him to lying awake talking to him to listening to his latest composition made me happy. And that really was the bottom line here. I wasn’t going to give that happiness up before I absolutely had to.

“That’s something.” Calder’s shoulders slumped like I’d deflated the big guy with a single pinprick. “And I want you both happy. I do. I simply don’t think you’re right for each other. And someone is gonna get hurt.”

“Let me worry about that,” I said with more conviction than I felt. His words slithered through my brain, like spec ops troops infiltrating a target, undermining my defenses. He’d hit on another of my big worries, namely that while Arthur was perfect for me, maybe I wasn’t the best thing for him and that I was being selfish in keeping our relationship going. Me getting hurt was inevitable and a price I was willing to pay, but Arthur hurt was a whole different story.

“Like you worried about Steve?”

Another dart, right to the chest, but I only gritted my teeth. “Arthur’s not Steve.”

“No, he’s not. Unlike the cheating snake, he’s a good guy who’s not gonna double-cross you. But you’re on the rebound, vulnerable, and I’m worried you’re seeing a future that’s just not there because you’re trying to make up for what you lost.”

Fuck. Was Calder right? Was this all simply me on the rebound? Not real emotions? I didn’t want to believe that. “I didn’t lose anything with Steve. We were never going to make it, and I see that now. What I feel for Arthur is different.”

It was. I’d never felt this intensely about Steve, never lain awake plotting what I wanted to talk with him about the next day, never raced to be able to send him a single text, never rearranged things simply so we could have a few extra hours together. That wasn’t a rebound fling, it was—

“Chief Fox.” Grammer, one of the newer guys from our boat, dashed up to us. “Senior Chief is looking for you. Some sort of meeting.”

“On it.” Whatever the emergency was, the churning in my gut said it wasn’t going to be good.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Arthur

“Do you want to tell me now or later what’s bugging you?” I finally asked as we approached the exit for Oliver’s neighborhood. He’d been quiet and moody ever since I’d met him by the ferry, short answers to my questions, and flipping on the radio as soon as we’d hit traffic, not even joking about my playlist selections. “Because if I can tell that something’s the matter, my mom will for sure be able to sense your mood, and she’ll ferret it out of you. Not to mention the kids.”

Bringing up the kids was something of a low blow, but I was desperate for him to talk.

“Later.” Derrick gave me a strained smile. “I’m sorry. I know I’m terrible company right now. You deserve better.”

“You’re not terrible. I like being with you even when you are quiet and grumpy. I’m worried about you, though. And I’d help if I could.” Sabrina’s point about how this was more than sex pricked at me. This was more than casual, way more, and Derrick being upset made me upset, made me want to fix whatever it was for him.