Page 5

Story: Men of Fort Dale

“I do not! Plus, how is it fair that just because I show an interest, that’s a bad thing? He just grunts at everything, and they fling themselves at him.”

“Hey, some people find the grunting sexy.”

“Only because they don’t have to work with his crabby ass.”

Sloane looked up, glaring. “Only people who complain about me are jackasses like you. Quit your whining.”

John jabbed a thumb at him. “See?”

“I mean, he’s not wrong,” Trisha said.

“I’m not either.”

Trisha shrugged. “No, he’s a grump, that’s Sloane, you get used to it. You’ve been stationed here what, a couple of weeks? You’ll learn to love his glares and insults right along with the rest of us.”

Sloane eyed her. “Quit encouraging him, or he’ll never shut up.”

“I like hearing him whine. Gets me all tingly inside.”

John flopped back in his seat with an annoyed grunt. “Is that the answer? I just have to let women torture me, and then I’ll have their attention?”

Trisha winked. “Maybe you should try it.”

Sloane finished the rest of his message, desperate to block out the chatter from his companions. Why General Winter thought Sloane needed to be posted at the front gate and stuck with two other people was beyond his understanding. Sloane wouldn’t consider himself a paragon of introspection, but he knew himself well enough to know he wasn’t a people person. People didn’t like him, and most people drove him absolutely crazy.

John glanced at him. “Who’re you talking to anyway?”

“Don’t start sticking your nose in my business just because you can’t get laid,” Sloane grunted.

“Hey!”

“It’s probably Dean,” Trisha said, returning to the book in her lap.

“Dean?”

“The Doc.”

John’s eyes lit with realization. “Oh yeah! I forgot you two were friends.”

Trisha picked the book up with a shake of her head. “You have the attention span of a gnat.”

“Wait, but isn’t he like...you know,” John began, waving his hand around in a vague fashion.

Sloane looked up. “Isn’t he what?”

John gestured emphatically. “You know.”

Sloane knew exactly what John meant, but he wasn’t going to make the conversation any easier on the private. Sloane wished he could have been paid for every time some smart-ass decided to comment on either Dean’s sexuality or their friendship. He would have had a nest egg waiting for him to make a strong start in civilian life once he was done in the military.

John stopped, cocking his head. “Wait, how does that work?”

“How does what work?” Sloane asked with a growl.

John frowned. “How do you get all these girls? That ain’t fair?”

Trisha sighed. “Oh, boy.”

“I’m not gay,” Sloane said.

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