you’re
right. We do have a few undignified traditions in the military,” he said,
cracking a smile at the memory of a few grog bowls and a visit from King
Neptune the first time he passed over the Equator on a ship. “It’s to even out
the score a bit. So much of what we do is too damn serious.”
“Is your Trident buried with any teammates?” she dared to
ask.
“Yes,” he said curtly, hoping she wouldn’t ask for details
because it was a memory he’d like to erase—the feel of his Trident
against the side of his fist that day they put Reynolds in the ground. His
family had been small, just two grieving parents and one sister were present
that day. Yet the church had been packed with Reynolds’ extended family—his
SEAL family—all in their dress uniforms.
She squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
Savoring the feel of it again, her hand remained joined with
his for a few moments, till Maddox stood. While he enjoyed this closeness he
felt every time his skin met hers, he didn’t do well with sympathy. He reached
out, taking the soiled napkin from her hand and tossing it into the garbage.
“So, thoughts on the ice cream?”
“Well, I liked it. But I like all ice cream. I thought the
waffle cone might have been a bit stale.”
“Good. I was thinking the same thing. And the ice cream
didn’t have the butterfat content that Becca’s does, I’m betting. What did you
think of the inside?”
“It was cute. They need seating though. Don’t you think? I
mean, the benches outside are nice, but what if it was cold or raining out?”
“Good point.” He looked up the street. “Ready to hit the
next one?”
With a queasy look, she touched her palm to her
stomach. “I don’t think there are anymore in downtown Annapolis.”
“Actually, I thought I’d take a drive around the
outskirts of town and make sure I’m not missing anything there. There are a
couple that got good reviews online. I’d like to see what they’re doing right.
And rent might be cheaper there.”
Her eyebrows lifted, intrigued. “You’re going to eat more
ice cream?”
“Yeah. Want to come along?”
There was a lengthy pause as they turned off Main Street. “Sure,
why not? I doubt I’ll eat any more, but I’m thinking you might need a
designated driver when you pass out after a sugar crash.”
He was glad for the company when they climbed into his car
and drove to a place he found online that had five-star reviews. The area
called Parole didn’t have the historic charm of downtown, but it was chock-full
of restaurants, shopping, and new construction. Definitely worth considering,
even though he doubted his partners would want anything but the heart of
Naptown.
Five minutes later, with a waffle cone in his hand, he held
open the door for Bridget.
She glanced at his cone, overflowing with three scoops. “How
do you eat like that and still manage to keep those titanium abs?”
“I don’t eat like this every day. Have a bite,” he offered. “I’d
really like your opinion.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Well, when you put it that way…” Her
mouth opened, lips pressing against the creamy succulence.
Oh, to be an ice cream cone…
“It’s good,” she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. A
smear of chocolate remained just above the left side of her lips and he ached
to lick her clean. But given the circumstances, he settled on brushing a napkin
to her mouth, enjoying her blush as it touched her cheeks.
He took a bite himself. It was the only way to cool himself
down after focusing too long on the perfect rose outline of her lips. He
swallowed with a shrug—no competition here—and extended the cone
back out to Bridget. “Want more?”
“No way.”
Giving a nod, his head tipped toward the sky. It was
cloudless and the sun beat down on the pavement making him miss the old brick
sidewalks of downtown. He’d admit that restaurants and shops were bigger here
and there was ample parking, but his eyes had
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