Page 7

CHAPTER 7

CARSON

“Daddy!”

I turned toward the tiny but loud voice and came face to face with an adorable mini-Roman Ott. She looked just like her daddy with her big blue eyes. Her hair was much darker than Roman’s at the moment, but he’d been in Afghanistan for nearly a year. The summer sun had always lightened his to the same light brown it was now. I was sure his would darken back up to match hers over the next few months.

Instead of waiting for someone to help her down the stairs, or walking down them slowly holding the stair rail, she took off down the slick tile stairs at breakneck speed, only to stumble and right herself. The sigh of relief that began in my chest got stuck when she stumbled again, launching her off the stairs.

Like Roman and his mama, I stood frozen, filled with horror as they no doubt were. Margot flew into the air. I thanked my training for my quick reflexes. The image of that beautiful little girl, Roman’s daughter, smacking into the floor spurred me into action, and I darted forward, catching her with a sigh of relief.

Letting her momentum dictate the movement, I swooped her down to the floor and up into the air.

Chastising her, I said, “Whoa there, Amelia Earhart. Little girl’s gotta have a plane to fly. Whatcha think you are? A bird?”

Her squeals and peals of laughter still filled the air as she responded, “Amelia’s my nana’s name. I’m Margot.”

Kneeling before her, I kissed her hand gallantly, then cracked up when she curtsied, thanking me like a regency princess. I scooped her into my arms and stood, turning to look at her dad and grandmother.

Amelia stood with tears flowing down her face, one hand over her mouth and the other over her heart. Roman, on the other hand, looked to be fighting off the anger that so often rode the coattails of fear. His shoulders rose and fell several times as he wiped his hands over his face.

When he reached out for Margot, she launched herself at him. He caught her easily. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, yelling “Daddy!” in his ear. He didn’t seem to mind since his eyes slid closed as he pressed a kiss to her head.

As I stared at them, Amelia seemed to gather herself and came forward. One of her hands now cradled Roman's face while the other rubbed Margot’s back. She, as fabulous as she always was and probably still is, only appeared in my periphery. My focus was on the man and child.

They were beautiful together, and I couldn’t pull my gaze away. How Roman’s wife could abandon them, I didn’t, and couldn’t understand it. Two beautiful souls that belonged to her, yet she threw them away without a backward glance.

I must have made a noise because Roman’s eyes met mine as soon as he opened them, his brow furrowed. I shook my head, and the crease deepened, but he didn’t push. How I knew he wouldn’t was insane. That connection we’d had in high school, where we could read one another’s thoughts, both on and off whatever field or court we were playing on at the time, snapped back into place, and I just knew.

Amelia cleared her throat, muttering something about food, but she still didn’t pull my attention away from the vision of Roman Ott and his little princess.

“Nana! I wanna help!” Margot yelled, wiggling in her daddy’s arms.

Roman put her down, kneeled in front of her, and tilted her chin up to look at him. He paused, waiting for her to focus on him, then said, “Walk, Margot. Do you hear me? Walk. The floors are slick as snot, and Carson won’t always be around to snatch your little rear end out of the air.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He kissed her forehead.

“Go on and help Nana. Daddy and Carson will be there in a minute.”

She rushed past him, and he yelled, “Walk, Margot!”

She turned around and rushed back to him; her face a pretty pink. She kissed his cheek and said, “Sorry, Daddy. I forgot.”

This time, when she walked away, it was at a much slower pace but still faster than a walk.

“You’ve got your hands full,” I said, but the last of my words came out as a grunt when he stood, grabbed me by the neck, and pulled me to him forcibly.

Our chests collided, forcing the breath from me, but I didn’t give a fuck. Roman wrapped me in his arms and tucked his face into my neck.

He whispered, “Thank you,” and I barely registered it because my traitorous body, which hadn’t responded to a single person in more than a decade, flared to life in an instant.

There was no stopping it. I couldn’t help it.

Horrified, I pushed out of his embrace, holding him at arm’s distance, and I prayed he wasn’t aware of what was happening below my belt. I wanted him. I had back then, and I did now, but he was a straight guy. Hell, he’d been married. He had a kid.

Not to mention, he was an officer to my enlisted.

Even worse, the military’s policy literally said, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.”

I’m pretty sure my cock was shouting its intentions for all to hear, even if it couldn’t fucking talk. It was doing a fucking award-winning pantomime.

Taking a deep breath, I cleared my throat and said, “You don’t gotta thank me, Rome. Anyone woulda done the same.”

He cupped the side of my face and patted my cheek as he said, “Maybe, but you’re the one who did. And I can’t thank you enough.”

He needed to stop touching me, or the party in my pants would never break up.

“Well, you promised me food.”

He laughed, threw his arm over my shoulder, and wrapped it around my neck as he pulled me into his side. He guided us toward the kitchen, where the smells that assaulted my nose when we first arrived came from.

“Mama, Carson is demanding payment for rescuing the punkin.”

“After the heart attack that child just gave us, Carson can have whatever he wants. All he’s gotta do is ask.”

Visions of Roman filled my head, weaving themselves together into what had to be the hottest fucking gay porn ever made. Not that I would know, having never watched the stuff. Hell, I didn’t even know the logistics, but fuck me if my brain couldn’t turn Tab A and Tab B into something magical. If the slots ever got added in, my brain would probably short circuit.

“Carson, sit with me!” Margot yelled.

Stepping out from under Roman’s arm to squat next to Margot, I said, “I can’t take your daddy’s seat.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “Silly, we just moved here. Daddy don’t gots a seat yet.”

“Daddy doesn’t have a seat yet,” Amelia corrected, naturally, reminding me of Mama and nephews. Mama did the same thing to the passel of hellions my brothers had spawned.

“Sorry, Nana.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked, but Roman put his hands on my shoulders and pressed me into the spot Margot wanted me to sit in.

“Sit. We’ve got this.”

Roman worked next to his mama as if they’d lived in the house together for ages, even though I knew Amelia and Margot had just arrived yesterday. Roman set the table with plates, silverware, cups, a coffee carafe, and condiments before taking the seat opposite me, putting Margot between us at the end of the square table that took up the floor space in the kitchen. Amelia placed the last of the food on the table and took the last seat.

I braced myself for the required handholding and blessing over the food, but it never came. I distinctly remembered his family had attended church and said grace when I ate at his house in high school, so the deviation threw me, but not enough to comment on since I wasn’t too keen on the practice myself.

The meal, delicious and filling, passed quickly. Too quickly. It was rare I experienced a family meal like this. One that felt like I was a part of the ensemble and not an extra, hanging on for whatever scraps of attention I could get. Or worse, where I wasn’t stealing the spotlight from someone else. Someone who’d be pissed as fuck to share the attention.

No, I felt wanted here.

Conversation flowed easily. Amelia, and to a lesser extent Roman, questioned me about my life and role as a SEAL. Partway through the meal, Margot climbed out of her booster seat and crawled into Roman’s lap. She talked nonstop throughout the meal, sometimes remembering her manners not to talk with her mouth full and to use her inside voice, but the reminders were never harsh like my brother Trip’s were toward his kids and our nephews. The few times I commented on it, Trip made snide comments about me being a “fag” or called me “queer.” Never where Mama or Daddy could hear because they would’ve hot-footed him out of the house, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

Little did he know how accurate his comments were. Over the years I’d tried to educate my family about the gay community too, but it wasn’t done with any thought to it being my community. That wasn’t it at all. Because while I might’ve had a crush on Roman, that was years ago and not what fueled my actions toward my family, at least not as a whole.

Hillbillies had enough generalizations made about them. All with a thread of truth weaved through them. You didn’t get marginalized and generalized without reality and fiction becoming entwined. I didn’t want my family lumped into the generalization that country folk, West Virginians, were homophobic.

Unfortunately, it proved to be a useless waste of time with Trip. Maybe one day, he’d realize the error of his ways. I just wasn’t optimistic.

“So, Carson, will you be in Germany long?”

I shook my head, taking a sip of my coffee. “I doubt it. Typically, we’re only brought here if one or more of us is severely injured.”

“Is that why you are here now? I mean, if you can tell me.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s why we’re here. A buddy was severely wounded, so they brought him and another teammate in, then sent the rest of us after them. I doubt we’ll be here another day or so. They’ll put us on a transport back home as soon as they have the room for us.”

“The room? I’m confused?” she asked.

“Mama, transports from Germany back to the States are for the wounded. They get priority. Even over a SEAL Team.”

I nod and murmur, “As they should.”

“Oh, dear me. Carson, overlook me being a dunce. Of course, they’re for the wounded. Margot and I did some research before moving here, but I’m still learning the ropes, not just about Germany and Landstuhl but the military as well. Roman’s been in the service for quite some time, but every one thing I learn uncovers ten I still need to know.”

I patted her hand where it rested on the table. “The military is an ocean of perpetual learning. I’ve been in the Navy for almost ten years, and I’m still figuring stuff out.”

She chuckled. “Well, that’s either refreshing or scary. I’m just not sure which.”

Roman and I laughed and watched on as Margot’s head popped up at the sound. She looked around at the three of us and immediately joined in with an obviously fake laugh, making the rest of us laugh harder.

The moment, like most of the good things in my life, got cut short. For a SEAL, this was a regular occurrence, but it didn’t mean we didn’t resent the interruptions at times. This was one of those times.

I pulled my blaring phone out of my pocket. The racket it made had Margot throwing her hands over her ears.

“That thing needs to use its inside voice!” she yelled.

We all chuckled. I looked down at the screen.

Foster

Not sure where you are, but we’re heading back to the hospital to check in on Adam and take Brock food.

Carson

I’ll meet you there.

“Do you have to go?” Roman asked.

Looking up at him, I nodded. When I did, something flashed across his gaze. Something I couldn’t place. Whatever it was caused butterflies to swarm throughout my chest. I ignored them, convincing myself that my feelings for him were playing tricks on me.

“No. Mr. Carson, you gots to stay with us. I wanna show you my room!” Margot yelled, sliding from Roman’s lap and rounding the table to stand next to me.

I started to explain, but Roman chimed in before I could.

“Punkin, Carson is in the military like Daddy, and he has to go where he’s told.”

“I hate the stupid military!” More yelling, this time accompanied by a stamp of her little foot. She raced from the room.

Amelia sighed and stood. I followed her lead. She raised up on her tiptoes to kiss one cheek and patted the other.

“Don’t be a stranger, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am. I promise.”

She turned and walked away, and I wanted nothing more than to stay here, where I felt the love they have for one another and where I felt included.

I’m an idiot, and apparently, I need to prioritize getting home for a visit, so I quit trying to insert myself into Roman’s family.

“Let me go tell Margot I’ll be back…”

“Absolutely not. I feel bad enough that I horned in on your reunion with your mama and Margot. I’m not taking you away from them again.”

“How will you get back?”

I laughed at him. “Don’t worry about me.”

“But I will. I always have,” he replied.

His eyes went wide at the last bit, and I was sure he wouldn’t, but he continued.

“I’ve examined the face of every SEAL who’s passed through every hospital and sick bay I’ve been stationed at.”

Flabbergasted didn’t cover it. Did he mean what I hoped, or was he looking for his friend from high school? I wanted to ask. So, so badly, but like a bad penny, my phone buzzed. Not the blaring alarm for my CO or command, but another interruption during a moment I didn’t want to end.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.