breath caught in her chest. She stopped walking and
stared at her phone. What did that mean?
Mary Ellen pulled her arm to make her walk again. “Let’s go.
As you said earlier, we’re already late.”
Ariel slid into the passenger seat and buckled up. But all
the way to the restaurant she couldn’t stop thinking that yeah, she wished it
was him.
* * * * *
Trav wanted to punch something. He’d spent the entire day
combing the city, showing Sarah’s picture. It was old, yeah, but it’s all he
had. Nobody had ever seen her, or didn’t remember if they had. And nobody had
heard the name.
At this rate, he might have to resort to doing the one thing
he swore he’d never do again.
Talk to his father.
The idea depressed him. No, it pissed him off. But he
couldn’t seem to drag his mind away from the unpleasant, yet necessary, plans
he had to make regarding his father. It wasn’t helping that the girls were
running behind. He never should have sent that text to Ariel. It was stupid and
it would only add to the things he’d have to explain once he told her the
truth. But curiosity got the better of him and he had to know if she was
coming.
“There they are,” Pete said and nudged him with his elbow.
They sat at a high-top table facing the door. Guilt and
anxiety gnawed at his gut like an ulcer as he watched Mary Ellen and Ariel wind
their way through the tables. Mary Ellen, he had to admit, was sexy in her
tight jeans and heels. But once his gaze hit Ariel, he couldn’t take his eyes
off her.
Simple black shoes, khaki pants and a cardigan sweater. Her
hair was pulled back on the sides and flowed down her back between her shoulder
blades. It wasn’t overtly sexual. Hell, she could have been a kindergarten
teacher reading a story to students dressed the way she was. But his pulse
raced and his throat seized at the sight of her smile.
“Hey boys,” Mary Ellen said as she sat in the chair Pete
pulled out for her.
Trav remembered his manners a minute too late and reached to
pull out Ariel’s chair. But she’d already done so herself. “Sorry,” he
muttered, pushing it in for her.
“It’s okay. I’m a big girl,” she said with a grin. “So
what’d you do today?”
“Just walked around, soaked in some of the culture,” Pete
said.
“I actually grew up not far from here, so for me it was more
a trip down memory lane.” Trav threw out the information casually, hoping to
use it to build on later for the big confession.
“Oh wow, we might have gone to rival schools then.” She
smiled and bumped his arm with her shoulder. “I played a mean game of tennis.”
“Given I’m a few years older than you I was probably already
out of high school when you were a freshman.” The image of her running around a
tennis court with her short skirt flapping wouldn’t leave his mind. He cleared
his throat, hoping his mind would clear with it. “So how was work?”
Mary Ellen sighed. “Long. We had the dinner shift where we
work and there’s another corporate retreat. Why fifty-year-old men think the
phrase ‘nice tits’ is a good idea for a pick-up line, I’ll never know.”
Pete used one hand as a pad, miming crossing something out.
“Cross that one off my list of possible pick-up lines.” They all laughed.
A waitress showed up to take their order. After she was gone
they fell into small talk, general subjects. Unlike a lot of tag chasers he’d
known in the past, the girls didn’t beg for details about their deployments,
hoping for juicy—or gory—tidbits. It was like they knew without being told that
it was a sensitive subject best left alone. He appreciated the understanding.
“So what do you plan on doing with your degree after you’re
done?” he asked Ariel after a line of servers brought their dishes.
Her smile lit up the darkened corner and warmth slid into his
belly.
“I’m getting my Master’s in social work right now—”
“Oh boy, here we go,” Mary Ellen
stared at her phone. What did that mean?
Mary Ellen pulled her arm to make her walk again. “Let’s go.
As you said earlier, we’re already late.”
Ariel slid into the passenger seat and buckled up. But all
the way to the restaurant she couldn’t stop thinking that yeah, she wished it
was him.
* * * * *
Trav wanted to punch something. He’d spent the entire day
combing the city, showing Sarah’s picture. It was old, yeah, but it’s all he
had. Nobody had ever seen her, or didn’t remember if they had. And nobody had
heard the name.
At this rate, he might have to resort to doing the one thing
he swore he’d never do again.
Talk to his father.
The idea depressed him. No, it pissed him off. But he
couldn’t seem to drag his mind away from the unpleasant, yet necessary, plans
he had to make regarding his father. It wasn’t helping that the girls were
running behind. He never should have sent that text to Ariel. It was stupid and
it would only add to the things he’d have to explain once he told her the
truth. But curiosity got the better of him and he had to know if she was
coming.
“There they are,” Pete said and nudged him with his elbow.
They sat at a high-top table facing the door. Guilt and
anxiety gnawed at his gut like an ulcer as he watched Mary Ellen and Ariel wind
their way through the tables. Mary Ellen, he had to admit, was sexy in her
tight jeans and heels. But once his gaze hit Ariel, he couldn’t take his eyes
off her.
Simple black shoes, khaki pants and a cardigan sweater. Her
hair was pulled back on the sides and flowed down her back between her shoulder
blades. It wasn’t overtly sexual. Hell, she could have been a kindergarten
teacher reading a story to students dressed the way she was. But his pulse
raced and his throat seized at the sight of her smile.
“Hey boys,” Mary Ellen said as she sat in the chair Pete
pulled out for her.
Trav remembered his manners a minute too late and reached to
pull out Ariel’s chair. But she’d already done so herself. “Sorry,” he
muttered, pushing it in for her.
“It’s okay. I’m a big girl,” she said with a grin. “So
what’d you do today?”
“Just walked around, soaked in some of the culture,” Pete
said.
“I actually grew up not far from here, so for me it was more
a trip down memory lane.” Trav threw out the information casually, hoping to
use it to build on later for the big confession.
“Oh wow, we might have gone to rival schools then.” She
smiled and bumped his arm with her shoulder. “I played a mean game of tennis.”
“Given I’m a few years older than you I was probably already
out of high school when you were a freshman.” The image of her running around a
tennis court with her short skirt flapping wouldn’t leave his mind. He cleared
his throat, hoping his mind would clear with it. “So how was work?”
Mary Ellen sighed. “Long. We had the dinner shift where we
work and there’s another corporate retreat. Why fifty-year-old men think the
phrase ‘nice tits’ is a good idea for a pick-up line, I’ll never know.”
Pete used one hand as a pad, miming crossing something out.
“Cross that one off my list of possible pick-up lines.” They all laughed.
A waitress showed up to take their order. After she was gone
they fell into small talk, general subjects. Unlike a lot of tag chasers he’d
known in the past, the girls didn’t beg for details about their deployments,
hoping for juicy—or gory—tidbits. It was like they knew without being told that
it was a sensitive subject best left alone. He appreciated the understanding.
“So what do you plan on doing with your degree after you’re
done?” he asked Ariel after a line of servers brought their dishes.
Her smile lit up the darkened corner and warmth slid into his
belly.
“I’m getting my Master’s in social work right now—”
“Oh boy, here we go,” Mary Ellen
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