Brothers of Paradise Series

“The USS Denver is a big ship. But it’s not an aircraft carrier or a destroyer, it’s a cruiser. This was a regular patrol. So I had one of my lieutenants radio in to command and make sure they made contact with the Russians. That had to be step one, that they knew this wasn’t intentional. And in the worst case so that they could help us if we went down.”

Gary draws a breath. “Hayden…”

He shoots his uncle a small smile. “It’s rare. But we didn’t have cargo or ballast, only ballast water.”

“What?” My father reacts immediately. Ships and boats, and you’ll have his rapt attention. “You’re telling me a US cruiser went to sea without proper ballast?”

“Yes. It was a tactical decision, but one that backfired given the unexpected storm. We were rolling heavily. We went from thirty degrees heeled over to one side, only to whip to the other at thirty degrees, all in the span of seconds. The crew was… well. It took its toll.”

“Did you have steering-way?”

“Yes. We had to fight for every inch to make sure we met those waves head-on. But she’s a well-maintained ship, and the crew is worth its weight in gold.”

“What did you do?” I murmur, looking at him. It’s easy to picture him in his uniform, out under a darkened sky, thousands of miles from home. The waves crashing around him, barking orders.

Hayden’s gaze softens. “You do what you can. You give the right orders and you follow the ones given to you. And then you hold on, and you pray for luck, and hope you win the fight against the sea.”

There’s complete silence around the table. I can see the pride in Gary as he looks at Hayden. Oddly enough, it’s also mirrored in my dad’s eyes. Who knew?

“We’re so thankful you’re back,” Mom says finally. “And no more active service, huh?”

“Not sure yet,” Hayden says carefully, avoiding my eyes. “I’ll have to see. I don’t know how long I’m staying.”

My mom shoots him a massive smile. “Will you come tomorrow? To the marina?”

Hayden looks confused, but nods. “Sure.”

“Mom is on the organizing community for the Junior Sailing Regatta,” Parker explains. “I’ll be there, helping out. You should join, man.”

“Sure. I’d love to.”

“I’ll text you the details,” Parker says. “Lily will be there too, won’t you?”

I grit my teeth and nod. “Yes. Yeah, I will.”

Mom puts a hand on mine and I resist the urge to withdraw it. “Lily is painting children’s faces, the dear. It was so popular last year that we had to get her back a second time.”

Hayden looks straight at me. There are a million things in his eyes-laughter being the main one. “I can’t wait to see that.”

The rest of the dinner is uneventful. We make it through the main course and dessert without any mishaps or odd questions. I even manage to avoid talking directly to Hayden.

But Mom turns to me after dessert, and judging by the teasing look in her eyes, she’s about to put an end to the peace. “Lily, how’s Turner? Is it time we start inviting him to a few Friday night dinners?”

I can practically see Parker’s grin next to me, just like I notice the sudden edge in Hayden. God, get me out of this dinner, and save me from my own meddling mother.

“No, I don’t think so,” I say, gritting my teeth. “We just went to an event together. It’s too early for family dinners.”

Avoid Hayden’s gaze, avoid Hayden’s gaze… It’s a mantra in my head now.

“But you’ve known him forever,” Parker points out. “It’s not a stretch, exactly.”

Dad comes to my rescue. His face is marred by a frown, as it so often is. “They work together. There’s no denying he’s a good man, like his father. But mixing business and pleasure is never a good idea.”

“Yes, there’s that. Thanks, Dad. I’m very concerned about what it might do to our professional life. Now, let’s move on from my dating life.”

But no, apparently we aren’t quite done. Hayden frowns, suddenly looking like a mirror image of my father. “Not to mention, Parker and I knew Turner quite well in high school. I’m not entirely sure about some of his actions.”

“Is that so?” my dad says, leaning back. “Parker, is that true?”

Parker shoots Hayden a look so filled with surprise it’s almost comical. “Well, yes. Technically. But he’s grown up since then.”

“He has,” Hayden says thoughtfully. He’s leaning back in his chair too, muscled arms crossed over his chest, looking like the sole authority on the topic. “One wonders how much, though.”

I’m so angry. It’s a hot furnace inside me, burning and burning. Now he’s protective? Is it the kind of protective you are of a friend? The same kind of friend you kiss-or the friend you send platonic gift baskets to with notes asking for friendship?

“Turner’s a great person.” It takes effort to keep my voice calm. “For the moment, I’m not interested-but if I want to date him, I will.”

My emotions are like a yo-yo. One pull from Hayden and they bounce, sending me reeling again. And I’m tired of it.

I stand to clear the plates after dinner. I’ve barely made it to the kitchen when Hayden follows me, carrying plates of his own.

There’s tension in his shoulders. They echo the same unease in mine. He puts plates down next to the dishwasher and taps his fingers along the countertop.

I fill the machine with dishes and let the silence stretch on.

He finally speaks up. “Did you get the basket I left you?”

“Yes.”

“And…?”

“And what does it mean? Is it a friendship basket? Is it a sorry-I-kissed-you basket?” I ask, not saying the third option. Is it a sorry-I-left-you basket? I-want-you-back-basket?Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

“You’re angry. Damn.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It was both, I suppose. A sorry-for-everything basket.”

“For everything? It was a good basket, Hayden, I’ll admit, but still…”

“You’re right,” he says, leaning closer. “It’s not enough.”

I close the dishwasher and face him entirely. “Why did you kiss me the other night?”

He’s quiet for a moment, like I’ve surprised him by needing to ask. But then his eyes blaze. “Honestly? Because I wanted to.”

It sets something off in me. It’s anger, and it’s need, and it’s so many more things. Because I wanted to. Well, I’d wanted to as well. But now it’s complicated things, and I’m no closer to getting answers. I still don’t know what I am to him. A fun fling from the past? A childhood friend he remembers fondly?

Parker walks into the kitchen. “Hey, guys. Care for a drink? We could head downstairs and let the elders do their thing.”

“No,” I say. “I’m heading out.”