Patrick had already met with Trevor Markham before he and Stephanie had brunch. Tonight it was merely social, and he was looking forward to spending more time with men who had served with Ryan. They met at a local pub/brewery. He felt instantly at home with the large screen TVs showing soccer, plus the dart boards and Celtic folk music in the background. They hunched around one round table, their feet scuffing through the peanut shells and sawdust littering the floor.
He got some details of the few decisions he was going to have to make while they ordered beers.
“Don’t go in there with a plan of action. Don’t bring anything you’ll mourn or get nervous about if it doesn’t sustain you. Just keep your wits about you. Improvise, but make damned sure you pay fuckin’ attention,” Markham instructed.
“You go it alone or with a friend or two?” Patrick asked him.
“This asshole,” he pointed to an olive-skinned, muscled warrior with the most tightly clipped beard he had ever seen. “And this asshole,” Markham gestured with his full palm to the man sitting directly across from him, who looked to be all of eighteen years of age and still sporting pimples.
“Make it easier?”
“You know our fuckin’ motto? Only easy day was yesterday? Don’t go lookin’ for easy. That’ll get you jacked up.”
“Hey, I’m Jake, by the way. My little brother will be joining one of the next classes. You might be in the same one, if it all works out.”
Patrick shook Jake’s hand and pointed to his beard. “That thing’s a work of art.”
Jake flashed him a big, white, toothy smile which made the heavy gold chain he wore flash in the high intensity lights nearby. “I indulge when we’re not deployed, but over there,” he wiggled his eyebrows and let his eyes go crazy. “I don’t cut anything.”
“This fuckin’ guy likes Brazilian waxing.”
Patrick rolled his shoulder. “Nothin’ wrong with that. The Europeans are into that shit too. Real common. The ladies, too,” Patrick said casually.
“See, Trev. I’m a trendsetter,” Jake said to his LPO.
“Yeah, but think how much more sleep you’d get each day if you didn’t spend all that time manicuring your hedge. Jake, you gotta find a lady who can take care of that for you.”
Jake’s grin was infectious. Patrick liked him immediately, and made a mental note to find out how to contact him to get the number for his brother. “Jake, where you from?” he asked.
“I’m just a Heinz mixture, man. Brazilian—”
A sandy-haired, tanned kid sitting on the other side of Trevor interrupted. “See, that’s where he gets that crazy notion he gotta be hairless. Fuckin’ Brazilians, man.”
Jake rolled with it, and Patrick soon realized there wasn’t much he got upset about. He found it refreshing. “Anyway, Patrick, I’ve never met any of my relatives. Grew up in foster care and each foster mother made up another story. I picked up a little bit from here, a little bit from there and—voila—you got your basic bad-ass family heritage. No pictures and shit. I got a granddad who was a Sioux chief, a grandma who cooked for rich folks in NOLA. I love Italian food, so there must be some of that in there, too.”
Several men chuckled and took long draws on their beers.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” Trevor said.
“What about girls. Any of you guys married?”
They all shook their heads. “Those guys don’t go on these types of trips, on account it’s a little tough on the wives to see this shit, know what I mean? I mean if they knew him, or knew the wife, well, that’s a different story. Then everyone comes. But we don’t like to separate the guys from their ladies when we get home. Bad for morale.”
Patrick nodded. “I’m guessing the wives stick together too.”
“Oh yeah!” Jake said, nodding with emphasis. “She’s gotta fit in like a little piece of the puzzle. If she don’t, they aren’t gonna make it.”
Patrick frowned.
“We got a high divorce rate. She’s got to like it as much as he does, or it never works.” That comment echoed around in his brain, and he realized Stephanie, although beautiful and just his type, would in all likelihood be a casualty of his decision. He didn’t like that thought, but he had time to sort it out, and until he signed that paper, anything could happen. The fact that she needed time didn’t bode well for the two of them, and that was a shame. But it would be the best for her. He resigned himself to that, at least.
“So they flew the lot of you,” Patrick looked from face to face until he returned to Trevor, “you all came over together?”
“Hell, no. I’m the only one here who was actually in the arena with Ryan. These guys were medical for this rotation. And Spencer here is a virgin.”
The catcalls began in earnest, while Spencer squirmed and turned bright red.
“I’ll have you know that’s just for deployment.” Spencer looked like Clark Kent without the glasses.
“We call him the professor,” Trevor chortled.
As their food arrived, Patrick was also warned to be realistic, that with a ten percent pass rate, odds weren’t in his favor. He knew the only thing he had going for him was that he’d kept that promise to himself since childhood, the promise not to fail at any team he tried out for. Quitting wasn’t an option. They’d have to bury him, or carry him away before that would happen. He didn’t have to be the best at anything, he just would outlast everyone.
“That’s good,” Jake said, making Patrick realize he’d said it out loud. “You can use that. I like it.”
Tomorrow he’d sort out what he would tell his manager when he returned to the team. He was worried about what he would tell Ronnie, his best friend and soon-to-be-ex-defender on the squad. But he was most concerned that this decision might ultimately drive a stake through any chance of a relationship with Stephanie.
Maybe he would be allowed one more trip back to California before they started their season in Europe. She could meet him in San Diego. They could take it slow, much slower. He owed her that respect. And if she didn’t want to see him…well, he’d have to accept that and move on. It would be good, though, to get it established one way or the other, so he could concentrate on his plans.
Nothing he found out about the SEALs gave him any pause. They looked him straight in the eyes. They had egos, but not attitudes. They joked, but they didn’t belittle or bully anyone. They had to be light-hearted but ready for anything. He suspected they all knew exactly how many people were in the bar, and how many of them carried weapons. He saw Trevor size up several large men Patrick had already decided didn’t care for. But what he liked best was that they weren’t vying for attention or making a spectacle of themselves. They looked like they wanted to be respected, but ignored.
He always thought you could tell a lot about a man by watching how he drank with his friends. Since his coaches on the professional level didn’t go into long speeches like American football players were used to getting, the local watering hole was where the team bonding happened. He suspected it was the same with the SEALs.
He became more and more comfortable with his decision.
Next afternoon, his plane landed in Ohio and he raced to catch up with the team at their designated hotel. He was running late, and the squad was already assembled in the lobby waiting for the busses to take them to practice. Ronnie, as always, was to be his roommate.
“Do I have time to run up and change quick?” he asked his coach. The man scowled and nodded, first at Ronnie, and then toward the elevators. Ronnie ran alongside him, clutching his personal equipment bag. He punched the key to the third floor.
“You okay, mate?” Ronnie asked.
“It was tough, Ronnie.” They rode the elevator, and then burst out and down the hallway. He followed Ronnie to their room. The defender inserted his key. “It was a beautiful ceremony,” Patrick said while he dumped his bag on one of the beds and yanked out his keeper jersey and backup glove bag. “Met s
ome of Ryan’s SEAL buddies,” he said while he pulled the bright green shirt over his head.
“Supposed to be fine lads, them SEALs.”
He wanted to be careful not to let his intentions leak out until he had a plan in place. “Enjoyed talking to them about what they do. Ryan was one of their favorites, and he sacrificed himself to save a handful of Marines and two SEALs.”
“That’s messed up, Paddy.”
Patrick busied himself tying his shoes, finding his cleats and second backup gloves, stuffing them into his team bag. “No. It’s what Ryan wanted.” He hadn’t slept well last night, and wondered how his lack of sleep would affect his performance in the box today at practice. When he looked up, Ronnie was staring at him with his hands on his hips.
“Fuck sake, Paddy. You’re not thinkin’ of following ol’ Ryan into the ground now, are you?”
He hated to lie to Ronnie, especially since Ronnie himself wouldn’t be on the squad. “I admit. It’s tempting, Ronnie. I had a good long discussion with them. A man could do worse.”
They headed out the door, running for the elevator.
“Shit, Patrick, you’d make, what, one tenth the salary? For what? Gettin’ yourself blown up? Riddled with holes, man?”
The doors closed. A young couple was standing in the corner, dwarfed by the large defender and the giant next to them.
“Hi folks,” Patrick waved to them. They huddled closer to each other and said nothing.
Ronnie had spoken the truth. But for Patrick, it wasn’t about the money. It was the adventure and the honor of it.
In his own way, he looked at serving on the Teams as the real beautiful game.
“You Yanks do the dumbest things for being such smart blokes,” Ronnie said.
“Yeah? Well, we beat you guys, didn’t we?”
Chapter 10
Stephanie missed a call from Patrick when she was working out. In his voice message he said he’d arranged to come to San Diego for a couple of days and wanted to know if she could meet him there.
Call me after 5 today, she’d texted back.
He’d not said why he would be coming to San Diego. She had a niggling fear that perhaps this had something to do with his decision to enlist.
“Stephanie, first I want to say something, okay?” She heard when her phone rang at exactly five, and he began talking before she could get it to her ear. Her heart pounded. She had been watching the phone as it counted down the last twenty minutes. The electric thrill that he’d called right on the dot at five o’clock meant something.
“We’ve already had a practice. Funny how that straightens out things. Draw a little blood, and I stop feeling sorry for myself.” His voice was gravelly. She remembered how she tingled hearing it. She was tingling now.
“I want to apologize.”
She went into high alert.
“Yesterday morning was very hard for me.”
So far so good, but when he hesitated, she couldn’t help but blurt out, “Patrick, just tell me. I’m not a fragile doll, here. I can tell you have something you want to say and you don’t want to say it. Well, quit making me wait for it.”
“Are you sure you’re ready? You’re Ryan’s girl.”
“Where did you plan on taking me, to a dungeon or something? I didn’t say I was going to have sex with you. I’m coming for a visit. And for the record, does this have anything to do with the Navy?”
“Yes. I want to talk to you about a few things, if you’ll listen.”
“When?” she finally asked.
“I’m thinking Friday. Make a weekend out of it.”
“You were thinking or you bought your tickets?”
“What? Look, Stephanie, do you want to come to San Diego or not? It’s a simple question.”
He was right. Time to make a decision. “Sure.”
“Good. Friday night I get in about six. You wanna catch a flight that gets in about the same time, if you can, or, better yet, I’ll get the tickets.”
“No, I’ll do it.”
“Actually, I’m going to insist. Sorry if that pisses you off. We have to talk about some things. It’s important to me.”
No, that didn’t piss her off at all. “Well, in that case. Sure.”
“I’ll work on it and text you the results.”
“Sounds good.” She waited for him to reply.
“Coming home again, seeing you, seeing Ryan’s friends, it’s had a big impact on me. Now I’m just trying to sort all that out. I’m looking forward to spending time with you again, Stephanie. I mean it.”
“Me too, Patrick. But please, no pressure. We’ll just see what happens,” she followed her comment with a nervous giggle.
“Fair enough, Steph. Look, I gotta go.”
“Until Friday, then.” She hung up so she didn’t have to feel any more of that awkward tension that had started up again.
Friday took forever to come. She’d been so preoccupied, she’d nearly wrecked her car once. When one of her fellow teachers offered to take her to the airport, she accepted gratefully. She had little to say on the way there. For some reason, her friend gave her a big hug, like her mother had done when she went off to college. She would come back changed. Just how was still a mystery. But it was somewhat thrilling.
The flight would be short, but the wait was long. She watched couples kiss, single servicemen in and out of uniform sitting in groups with their duffle bags. Young recruits spoke wide-eyed with older, more seasoned veterans with chiseled abs, covered in tattoos. She got respectful nods from most of the men ready to board the plane. She was surprised how quiet the group was, especially for a Friday night on the way to a vacation paradise like San Diego.
With the flight completely full, she sat next to a couple of young, muscled men she identified as some kind of Special Forces guys. They struck up a conversation with her and somehow it leaked out about Ryan. Their compassion and condolences didn’t help her nerves. She begged out of the conversation, even though she knew they were probably SEALs. She needed time with her private thoughts.
When the plane touched down, she was startled, having fallen asleep. She texted Patrick, and he promised to meet her by baggage claim. Quickly, she gathered her things and made her way down the aisle to the terminal. She had no checked luggage, but Patrick was there with a warm smile, looking way more handsome and refined than he had a right to. In his left hand he held a dozen red roses.
While not the expected greeting, it was exactly what her heart had dared to hope for.
He’d been nervous about seeing her. The flowers were more for his benefit than hers, trying to make a bold statement to give himself courage. He knew they had to have that talk. He wanted to explain things to her and do it right. He hoped to God, and even asked Ryan for his help, so he would get it right.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said while she approached him with her fresh looks. Her round brown eyes sparkled, her lashes demurely downcast. He liked that she was embarrassed. She wasn’t like any of the women he’d told himself he needed. His anonymous sexual partners were strung together like tangled netting in the box, all knotted up sometimes, running into each other. Stephanie was the model by which he had judged all other women. It had been that way for years, but he’d just figured it out. And now she was standing in front of him.
She looked down at the roses, sniffed them, and smiled. “Nice.” He could see she was anxious. She kept looking at the flowers, and then his feet, and his fingers holding the flowers, but she wasn’t looking into his eyes.
“Come here, Stephanie,” he whispered.
She quickly darted a look to his face, and that’s when he was overcome. He grabbed her, pulling her close to him, and holding her to his body, kissing her hard. He didn’t want anything misunderstood. The flowers said one thing. His kiss was going to tell her something else.
At first she was stiff, but then she eased into it, and at last melted. He felt her heart racing, loved the muffled moans she gave him while he pl
unged deep inside her mouth. Cradling her head under his chin he hugged her. “I’ve been an idiot, Stephanie.”
She nodded slightly in agreement, which sent his heart soaring. She pulled away drilled him with a look. “I think we both have.”
“Fair enough.” He extended the roses to her, taking her carryon and slipping his arm around her waist as they made their way through crowds of passengers. He watched as she buried her nose in the bouquet. It would have felt even better if she’d leaned into him. But he was going to work on his patience.
“Hope you’re hungry,” he said.
“Actually, starved. I didn’t eat all day.”
“That apprehensive?” He looked down at her but she didn’t return his gaze.
Her lack of response was bothering him.
They drove to the marina near the convention center. Helping her out of the car, he took her hand to lead her to the restaurant that had been recommended. “I’m just getting my bearings. Visited Ryan down here once, but I wasn’t in any condition to remember a thing.”
She said nothing. She was looking straight ahead with an unreadable expression. So, he kept talking.
“Ryan had just made it through BUD/S and, man, was he sore. He was bleeding in places I didn’t know men bled. His feet were green from wearing those boots and socks for five days straight. We got a room down right there,” he pointed to the multistoried hotel overlooking the marina, “and I had to practically force him to take a shower. He was falling asleep while he took his clothes off. I thought he’d fall asleep in the shower and drown.”
“I remember him telling me about that. His parents were so proud he’d made it through.”
“I think they’d cut about two thirds of the class by that time. You wouldn’t have wanted to see him. He was a mess.”
“Surprised he wanted to party.”
“Not that night. We put a movie on the TV, and I don’t think he stayed awake long enough to get through the opening credits. I let him sleep. We partied long and hard the next day and night, though.”
The restaurant was right where he’d been told, overlooking the twinkling water and boats at the marina. Ushered to their table, he asked if she wanted wine and she declined. She declined a beer, too, but he ordered one.
Game For Love_The Beautiful Game Page 6