Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“You’re so good about going after exactly what it is that you want. I just want to be like you.” She gave him a winning smile, one that said that she too didn’t want to argue.
No. No, I’m not. Because what he wanted was Dustin and no way was he going after that. He might be the master of setting goals for himself, but this was one objective that would never be within reach. No sense dreaming either. Nope, from this point forward, he had to tamp down whatever dreams he’d had, whatever hurt he was feeling, and treat Dustin the same way he would any other XO. Just do your job.
* * *
Dustin surveyed the group of seven men in front of him. He and the LT had split the team for today’s obstacle course drill, and somehow Dustin had ended up with both newbies, Wes and the newly minted SEAL everyone was calling Shiny thanks to Bacon saying he was as shiny as a new penny and about as old. Shiny would eventually be one of their communications go-to guys as well as backing up Wes with explosive maneuvers, but right now he was greener than Dustin could ever remember being.
“All right. Our mission today is to get these to the end of the course.” Dustin kicked the two sacks at his feet. Each was a solid 150 pounds and about six feet long. “Before the other guys, right?”
“Yes, sir!” Shiny was first to answer, as Dustin had expected.
“We are going to win.” Dustin didn’t give them room for failure. “And we’re going to trade off on the loads. Bacon, you and Shiny start with one. And...” Don’t play favorites, and don’t avoid him, he reminded himself for the millionth time that week. Ever since their phone conversation, Wes had kept his word and been nothing other than professional, and each day it stung just that much more. “Lowe, you and Curly start with the other.”
“All ready?” the LT shouted from their position down the sand from Dustin’s group.
“Ready,” all seven of Dustin’s men yelled back in unison.
“And go!”
The first part was run across uneven log planks to a wooden wall about eight feet tall. Wes—Lowe shouldered his half of the burden with Curly and set out at a fast clip, easily keeping up with the other load and the rest of the team, which was the point. They all had to stick together and finish at the same time, working together.
When they reached the wall, Dustin organized them to get both loads up and over. He scrambled up first, then lay on the ledge to help the others over and down. He’d done this drill hundreds of times, but something felt off when his eyes met Wes’s as Wes scaled the wall.
Wes’s eyes were full of concentration, not secret messages as he and Curly hefted their load up to Dustin and his ensign, who then lowered it down to the men waiting on the other side. Still keeping his gaze on Dustin, Wes pulled himself up but missed the next handhold, slipping to dangle precariously from one arm.
“Lowe,” Dustin shouted. He stretched down to Wes. “Grab my hand.” Wes hesitated a second longer than the other men might have, and Dustin hated that. “Now.”
Wes grabbed hold and Dustin hauled him up with a grunt. Wes’s grip was solid and warm and Dustin reveled in the brief contact, unable to stop the way his heart sped up with more than simply the adrenaline of the situation.
“Thanks.” Wes looked away quickly as he made it to the ledge.
“No problem,” Dustin said, same as he would to any other man. God, this tension in his chest was awful, far worse than he’d expected.
But there was no time to mope. On to the next obstacle, a tricky sequence of ropes that took all eight of them to get the loads across. Wes proved to be more than adept at swinging himself around on the long, thick hemp ropes.
“Hey, Lowe, we win, you gonna let me and Bacon take you out for a beer tonight?” Curly yelled.
Dustin’s gut contracted even as he forced himself to smile. He should want Wes to make friends, be a part of the team and the easy familial relationship of the enlisted men, and shouldn’t care that this was one more sign of Wes being off-limits. Dustin didn’t go drinking with his men, didn’t involve himself in their off duty lives.
“Y’all buying?” Wes’s smile looked as forced as Dustin’s.
“Sure.” Curly passed the load on to the ensign who was waiting for it. “I’ll try to get my girl to come out, bring some friends.”
Dustin waited to see what Wes would say—he knew from prior conversations that Wes wasn’t out at work, but he didn’t know how he handled stuff like this. The strain around Wes’s eyes was a look Dustin recognized well as one he’d seen in the mirror more than a time or two.