The Charlotte Chronicles (Jackson Boys 1)

“How was the golf game today?” Nate asks Cabby.

Cabby glares, first at Nate and then at the imposing figure at the end of the table who Nate had introduced as his commanding officer. “I hate that fucking game and you all know it. But instead of reminding me I hate it, you lure me onto the course with offers of free beer.”

“We got thrown out after fourteen holes because Cab threw the club at the clown face,” Lieutenant Sykes explains.

“I fucking hate clowns, assholes.” Cabby shudders.

At my confused expression, Nate clarifies. “Mini golf.”

“It’s the devil’s game, Charlotte,” Cabby says. “Never play it.”

“I swear I won’t.”

He leans across and offers his pinkie. “Pinkie promise?”

I hook my little finger with his, amazed at how it’s dwarfed, as if his hands have muscles mine don’t. “Pinkie promise.”

We shake and Cab’s eyes glitter mischievously as he lets me go. “Now that we’ve bonded, do we show each other our tits now or after we break out the glitter bombs?”

Nate settles his own heavy hand on the back of my neck. “The near daily sight of your manboobs is why I was celibate for nine years. Don’t punish Charlotte by killing my libido once again.”

Hoots fill the air at Nate’s easy admission of his nine-year drought. There’s something awesome and incredibly sexy in his openness about how he’d stayed faithful to me even though we weren’t together, even though he had thought we would never be a couple again. His confidence doesn’t flow from his crotch like so many others. There are few men who would be as unconcerned as he about not having any action for months, let alone years. I’m used to men measuring their self-worth by the number of hookups they have in each city.

Cabby grins broadly. “How was it? As good as pissing after a long walk outside the wire?”

“If you think pissing is comparable to having sex, I’m concerned,” Nate replies. They clearly enjoy ribbing each other.

“At least I did piss on a regular basis, unlike some people I know.”

I decide to break up their love fest before it turns south. “It was spectacular, Cabby, if you need to know. But don’t worry, he still loves you.”

“Good. Good.” He nods and winks. “He loves you too. Just remember that when he calls out my name the next time you’re getting it on.”

Nate’s hand drops from my neck to my shoulder and pulls me against him. “Cabby’s sad because I was his best wingman. Now he has to hang with the rest of these fools and try to prove he’s the better choice when last call is made.”

“True story,” Cabby says mournfully.

After we establish that Cabby is capable of closing deals without Nate helping, the conversation turns to the latest crop of potential SEALs. Cabby and Bride think they’re worthless, but Lieutenant Sykes argues that the fail rate is no different. The argument becomes heated as Bride says that his BUD/S class was the best. Everyone jumps in, even Nate, who says that Cabby and his class had the best pass rate, best water rescue performance, best rifle marks, and so on.

They keep arguing until another round is delivered and a new group of young ladies waltz in wearing barely-there dresses and high heels.

“Cab, if you keep eye fucking that brunette across the room, I’m going to get pregnant,” jokes Bride.

“There’s a threat to our national security,” says a short, rough-looking male whose nickname is Gonzo.

“I’m not eye fucking her,” Cab protests. He looks at me earnestly. “Ma’am, we do not eye fuck. I promise you that we’re better than that.”

“Yeah?” I can tell he’s leading up to something rowdy and probably a little raunchy.

“That’s right. Because an eye fuck is an empty promise, and a U.S. Navy SEAL does not give empty promises. We deliver.”

Next to me Nate rolls his eyes, but everyone else at the table laughs. “Then you best get over there and deliver your fucking, or she’s going to go home and tell everyone how you were a man of looks but no action.”

Bride hoots at this and tips his beer toward me. “I like this girl.”

Nate presses a kiss to my temple and says warmly, “Not as much as me.”

We all settle in and watch as Cabby sets off to reel in his fish. The camaraderie between the men is evident, and it makes me happy to think of Nate surrounded by good friends these past years. As miserable as I was, I never once wished that he was unhappy.

Bride and Gonzo role play Cabby’s seduction.

“Why, miss, you look parched and lonely over here. Mind if I buy you a drink?” Bride intones in a deep voice.

“My mother told me not to accept alcohol from strangers.” Gonzo adopts a high-pitched falsetto.

“If you tell me your name, we won’t be strangers.”