“I told you—boring.”
Gunner nodded. “I’ll tell you abou
t my life, then.”
Raketa folded her arms when Gunner leaned back in his chair. What was she afraid he would tell her? Something made her take a step back, close herself off to him.
“I have one sibling, a sister. She picked out your clothes, by the way.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“She owns a clothing store,” he explained.
“Thank you.”
He nodded. “Her name is Odette.”
“Interesting name.”
“Both my parents are French, although my dad was born in the States.”
“Is Gunner a French name?”
He laughed. “No, my father was a military man. I’m surprised you don’t know that.”
“Oliver Marchand Godet. Retired four-star general. Deceased at the age of sixty-two,” she murmured.
She rattled off the basic statistics of his father’s life with no emotion, just like he would’ve in a briefing. His dad was so much more than her words.
“He was the best man I ever knew.”
“Tell me about him,” she said, uncrossing her arms and resting them on the table.
Gunner told her about the first time his father brought him to the island along with several other stories about growing up with the man who was known as “Devil Dog.”
“He wasn’t around a lot, but he always made up for it when he was on leave.”
“And your mother?”
“Salt of the earth, as you’d expect any son to say, but in this case, it’s true. Nothing fazes the woman, or if it does, I’ve never seen her show it.”
“You’re like her.”
Gunner laughed. “I would’ve expected you to say I’m her polar opposite.”
Raketa tilted her head.
“Most would say everything fazes me.”
“I don’t agree. You’re very, what is the expression? Even-keeled?”
“If you think so, you don’t know me very well.”
Gunner saw the flash of hurt in her eyes that she quickly masked.
“I was joking,” he said, taking her hand in his. “You’ve seen sides of me very few have.”
“No one…” She shook her head.