Single Dad Seeks Juliet

Holley agrees with an up-and-down tilt of her chin, though I know she doesn’t really understand. And not because she’s a woman or a civilian or any of that crap—I just know because I never understood either. Not until I lived it.

“Anyway, we were at the tail end of that assignment, working our way back to civilization, when we got word about Chloe’s mom going into labor. It’s not out of the ordinary for wives—or girlfriends, in my case—to give birth alone when they’re involved with a military member, but something about this meant that I was being given leave, effective immediately. There was a C-130J with my name on it, and I was on my way home, stateside.”

“That’s good, right?”

I smile—not the kind that conveys happiness and not the kind that’s faked. It’s a sad smile filled with sad memories from a long time ago.

“Knowledge is power, Holley, but no one saw fit to give me any. I walked into the hospital, dirty, sweaty, overtired, but happy. So, I went to the gift shop to get a couple things to celebrate. Wendy and I hadn’t planned on getting pregnant, but we were both excited anyway. But when I got to the front desk and asked for the room information, the guard immediately called upstairs to someone and they came down to meet me.”

Our close proximity forgotten, Holley takes a hand off of my shoulder and puts it to her lips.

“From there, I was taken to a room and informed that all the joy I’d spent the last twenty-four hours preparing to feel wasn’t to be my reality at all. Wendy had passed away during childbirth—a detail they’d known since the beginning and the reason for my leave—and I was the only person my brand-new daughter had left. Three days she’d been in the care of the hospital staff, without any other kin to call, waiting on me to arrive. Waiting on someone to bond with—a person to call home. And I was in the gift shop.”

I don’t know why I decided to share that story with her. A story I keep very close to the vest. But there’s just something about Holley Fields that makes me feel comfortable enough to open up.

“Jake,” she whispers, her voice laced with poignant sadness.

“Knowledge is power, Holley,” I repeat. “I spent a lot of time wishing I could redo a whole lot of those first moments—wishing I’d been given the chance to prepare for them better. It wouldn’t have lessened the heartache on my way home—it would have amplified it. But it would have given me the time to prepare to fight. Understand?”

She nods, the green of her eyes clearly shining with the moisture of unshed tears. Her hands have moved from my shoulders to my neck, and suddenly, the proximity of our bodies is feeling a hell of a lot less innocent.

In fact, I can feel my dick starting to get hard.

Gently, so as not to alarm her, I set her away enough to ensure I’m not at the center of an uncomfortable explanation but keep a hand to her elbow for support. She churns her legs in an active doggie-paddle, which is sure to tire her out quickly.

“What do you say we make our way back toward shore?” I suggest. “Go get some breakfast.” Today’s ocean exercise will be limited, but one day of variation isn’t going to kill me. I’ll be back into the workout and breathing exercises tomorrow.

She nods excitedly. “I love breakfast, Jake. And since knowledge is power, I just really thought you should know that.”

I chuckle and shake my head. “Are you mocking me?”

“Only a very little bit,” she qualifies. “It’s good advice, and I promise, I took you seriously. It was just too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

I nod and hum. “I see how it is.”

Her smile curves even the corners of her eyes, lighting them up with the reflection of the water. I take a hand and splash the surface in front of her, effectively sprinkling the peachy-tan of her skin with a million droplets.

“Ahh!” she shrieks, splashing me back without hesitation.

I laugh as she starts to move farther away and follow her. I’m fine with having her out here, but I don’t need her developing a late surge of confidence that gets her in trouble again.

“Come on, Holley,” I say. “Take my hand.”

“No way!” she says with a laugh. “I know what you’re going to do when I get close. You’re going to splash me again!”

“No, I’m not,” I assure. “I’m done with that childishness.”

“Sure,” she replies disbelievingly.

Needing a new tactic and running out of options, I go for something that’s bound to work but she won’t like very much.

Pulling my face into a position of concern, I look directly over her shoulder and lower my voice. “What’s that?” I ask suddenly, like I’m a little shaken.