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)
“Nope.” Dustin set the food on the coffee table. “Sorry. We’ll have to eat in here. I don’t exactly have a dining room set yet.”
“You don’t exactly have a lot of anything.” Wes offered him the ghost of a smile. It was true—big living and dining room open to the kitchen area and all Dustin had was the couch, a coffee table, single bar stool, and a light. A deck opened off the living room, and out there next to the grill he’d stuck a plastic chair he’d found near the recycling bins when he moved into this place.
“Decor isn’t my thing.” Dustin got the plates and two beers from the kitchen. “I mainly bought this place as an investment. And to get off base.”
“That your boat down there?” Wes had walked to the glass door leading to the deck and was looking down at the boat slip below them.
“Yeah. Little thing, but it’s fun.” Dustin wanted to offer to take him out in it, wanted that in the worst way, but it was an impossibility, one best stamped down quickly. “Come eat.”
Wes came back over to the couch. “Not hungry. Sorry.”
“You want me to crack open the scotch, you’re at least going to eat some bread.” Dustin kept his voice firm.
Wes managed a rusty-sounding laugh. “You think you can give me orders here?”
Heat licked up Dustin’s spine. They both knew that giving orders wasn’t what Dustin wanted behind closed doors, and while he was more focused on making Wes feel better, he couldn’t deny that Wes’s look had a certain promise to it.
“I think it’s been days since you had real food, and if you think I’m letting you drive wasted, think again. Eat.”
“Fine.” Wes pulled off a breadstick while Dustin opened their beer bottles. “And thanks.”
“No problem. So, you talked to your mom?” Dustin wasn’t sure whether avoidance or talking would be better for Wes, so he gingerly tested the conversational waters, trying to read Wes’s signals.
“Yeah. And I am pissed at her.” Wes bit off a large chunk of bread, then followed it with a sip of beer. “She didn’t even try to get me a message. We could have been gone weeks.”
“She didn’t want to distract you,” Dustin guessed. “My mom kept the news of our old dog dying for a whole six-month deployment. Not the same thing, but I think it’s typical mom behavior.”
“Yeah, well, she and Dad shouldn’t have to be going through this by themselves. It’s not right.” Wes thumped the couch cushion next to him.
“Try again for leave,” Dustin urged. “I mean, I can’t do anything to guarantee it, but we should be stateside for a spell. Maybe something can be worked out.”
Wes took another angry bite of bread before answering. “The transplant could take months. And there’s a good chance a donor won’t come up. So what am I supposed to do? I don’t have a huge stockpile of leave, so I can’t go wait it out, much as I want to. Feels like if I go now...”
“What?” Dustin set down his slice of pizza, patted Wes on the leg.
“Feels like it would be to say goodbye,” Wes whispered. “And I both want to be there—all the time—and I don’t want that. I’m not ready for that. Not ever going to be ready for that.”
“I wish hearts were like kidneys,” Dustin mused. “Then there could be a drive, try to find her a match—”
“Hell, I’d give her half my heart in a heartbeat. Kidney too. Whatever she needed. Just say the word. People don’t realize how awesome Sam is.” Wes grabbed another breadstick.
“Tell me,” Dustin urged. Wes seemed to eat more the more he talked, which was good.
“She’s the reason I’m a SEAL.” Wes got a far-off smile on his face, one tinged with more than a little pain. “See, back in high school, I set out to race a triathlon for heart disease awareness. I found all these SEAL exercises online, and I really dug them. Did them every day. And Sam told me I should try for real. I told her no way, but the more school went on, the more I didn’t have a plan for afterward. And I kept working out, doing more races. Got in the paper for it, even.”
“That’s awesome.” Dustin passed him a piece of pizza while Wes was distracted enough to take it. “You raise a lot of money?”
“Fair bit.” Wes shrugged. “Anyway, this navy recruiter came to one of the races, said I should go talk to him if I was interested. Sam told me to at least go listen. Told me...” His voice broke a little. “Told me I could be a hero for her.”
“And you are. I know she looks up to you.” Dustin rubbed Wes’s shoulder. Putting his arm around him felt way too damn natural. “Your whole family’s proud of you. Don’t be too mad at them for not telling you what was up. And don’t beat yourself up for not being there—I think you’re where they want you to be.”