Against my better judgement, I threw on swim trunks and a t-shirt to accompany Maya to the pool. I could’ve easily worn some slacks and a polo and sat off in the distance to keep an eye on her. Instead, I turned into a pool boy or playmate as I once again gave into her and charged after her, jumping right into the water.
Not that it was necessary to be so close, but I never left her side. Not even when she splashed and fanned water into my face. In fact, we got a whole lot closer when she attempted to dunk me and jumped on my back. Rough play with her was so fun that I lost track of who I was…who we were. If I had been observing us, I would’ve guessed that we were a couple.
And anyone who listened to us bantering back and forth about which flavors of ice cream were the best and who made the best—not that I was a big fan of the cold treat—might have thought we were siblings. Either way, we appeared friendly and close in an intimate way.
I had to admit that I liked it.
And mostly I liked the way she made me feel and I wanted to be her man…the man who cared for her. The man that knew her well enough to order for her.
“She’ll have the club sandwich, a side of fries and another Bikini Sunset and I’ll have a ginger beer and the special shark tacos.”
“Shark.” She played with that word on her tongue and I liked how it sounded and made me think of other ways I’d like to hear her say it. Well, maybe not that exact name. But definitely my name on her lips.
“Speaking of sharks. I’ve been meaning to ask you, what’s the reason behind your name “Shark?” I’ve heard a few guys call you that and you answered your phone that way a couple times.”
“All SEALs end up with a nickname. Barlow is Fin, great swimmer. And Roman is King, royal background. Most of them are simple and often involve inside jokes. I got mine from a training officer who happened to remember me from my competitive swimming days.”
“You were a killer? Predator? Deceitful?”
I shook my head knowing that it was nothing like she had imagined and part of the reason why I rarely told anyone the reasoning behind my name. Not that many people even asked. “Our swim team was called Sharks.”
“That sounds a bit boring.” I loved the smirk on her face as she wrinkled her nose up so cutely.
She made me laugh and then I gave in and told her the rest of the story as I remembered how he had pointed his finger at me in an accusing manner as I stood at attention.
“You’re a Shark!”
Everyone turned to look my way as he stood right in front of me. I read the name stitched in yellow on his navy blue t-shirt. It was a very familiar name from my youth that had me answering “Yes, Sir” and standing up a little straighter.
He had been a few years older than me, but with our age bracket groupings—unfairly set—I had to compete against him. Truthfully, I didn’t mind. I knew I would never beat him, but he made me swim some of my best times—trying to get as close to him as possible. I was no competition for him. However, he knew of me like many other swimmers in our competitive summer season for two reasons: One, a timer had logged the wrong time for me at one swim meet and that incredibly low time followed me in the record books.
The second reason, he shared with the rest of the recruits. Off the starting blocks, I zoomed to the other end of the pool, did a flip turn and headed for home with everyone else in my line of sight far behind me. I couldn’t believe it and then I heard my teammates following me down the edge of the pool, cheering me on. I kicked and dug in harder thinking I had finally beat him as I reached out to the touch pad. Then as I waited for everyone to catch up, I realized that I had done freestyle while everyone else was doing the breaststroke. That—at one time embarrassing, long ago—story had my fellow recruits laughing and the “Shark” name was mine forever.
Maya laughed too. “Well, I learned from Shark Week that sharks are gregarious and highly social. I think you’re quite friendly.”
I loved the smile that brightened her face and it had me wanting to reach behind her head with my hand to bring her in close for a kiss. A little taste. A little taste would never be enough. A little taste would be very wrong since I was working for her. Protecting Maya. I needed to say those words over and over in my head because I was having a hard time focusing on what I was assigned to do and nothing more.
No emotions. No involvement. Stay on task. Complete the mission.
I should’ve been looking around the area. Scanning the faces of the people around the pool. Noting any unusual behavior. Was anyone studying Maya? Taking photos of her? I was keeping her safe but I wasn’t supposed to be barely dressed and lounging next to the beautiful woman depending on me. Laughing. Basking in the sun. Ordering her lunch like we were on a date. Enjoying her company far more than I should have. None of those things had ever been part of my training.
“Don’t be so serious. You’re off the clock for now.”
Was she reading my mind?
“I’m never off the clock where your safety is concerned.”
“I don’t believe anyone in their right mind would try to come at me with you next to me. So relax a bit and tell me more about you before you became a bad ass.”
Her laughter put me at ease and I forgot about work to an extent.