CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SHANNON
I observe my spoon. We’ve moved onto Africa—Ethiopia, to be specific. “What did you say this was again?”
“Shiro be kibbe,” replies Gabe, spooning more into his mouth. “It’s a peasant dish, but everyone eats it over there. It’s the most popular dish in the whole damn country.”
I look around at the restaurant. If you weren’t actively looking for it, you’d never find it it’s so well hidden. It’s more like someone’s home kitchen.
“How do you find these places?”
Gabe smiles that smile that won me over from the start. “Like I said before, I’m just trying to find a little bit of the greater world here in our fair city.”
“Moroccan, Turkish, Ethiopian… What next?”
“Ever had Italian?” Gabe jokes.
“Does Olive Garden count?”
He smirks at that. “That’s about as Italian as a hamburger and fries. By the way, that was some act you pulled in the parking lot last night. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
I act surprised. “That the quiet nerd might just be a sex goddess?”
“‘Godly’ sums it up alright. And with Matt in the back? Jesus, and I thought I was wild.”
“There’s lots left to learn about me yet, Gabe-Gabe. You ain’t seen nothing yet.” I drop my spoon. “Hey, tell me more about the SEALs. I want to know.”
He places his spoon down. “What it’s like, you mean?”
“Sure, like how you started. I know why, not wanting to be a burden and all that.”
“So you want to know the how?”
“I do.”
“It was pretty simple. I rocked up in my dress whites and they were stupid enough to send me to BUD/S.”
“Like the beer?”
“Like Basic Underwater Demolition SEAL training.”
“Where you ring the bell if you want to go home?”
Gabe nods solemnly. “You take hold of that braided rope and ding that sucker three times to find your release. It sits right out there on the Grinder, this concrete and asphalt courtyard where you do calisthenics, fucking thousands of push-ups—all sorts of punishment and pain you never even knew existed prior to signing up.”
“You never thought about it?”
“Ringing the bell? No. Once my mind’s made up, nothing’s stopping me, and I wanted to be a SEAL more than anything. I wanted to be the best, and there were guys—the fittest guys you’ve ever seen—pulling on that thing day and night. This one dude we nicknamed Conan. He was built like a mountain, completely unstoppable in PT, but come Hell Week he practically crawled his way to that bell blubbering like a newborn.”
I push food around my plate, don’t know if I can fit in another spoonful. “Sounds like… fun.”
“Like they say, ‘the only easy day was yesterday.’”
“It was really that bad?”
I don’t mean for it to sound offensive. I’m genuinely curious. Dad always spoke about the SEALs with reverence.
Gabe laughs. “‘Abrasive’ is the best word I have for it, but it’s necessary.” He points beyond the doors. “The first time you get into trouble you’re thankful for every second of hell they put you through.”
“And you were on Team Three, right?”
“Correct. I’m not one of those Team Six superstars, sorry, but we had our fair share of entertainment, based in south-east Asia and the Middle East mostly, thus my love of exotic cuisine. The locals sure did better than what Uncle Sam calls chow.”
“Well, I, for one, am enjoying it, learning about this all, about you.”
His eyes light up. “That’s the best thing about being a SEAL. It’s the learning, the training. It never stops—rigger school, languages, marine ops, OTB… You are always filling your head with something new. I’m going to miss that.”
“I’m new…” I purr.
His smile turns sultry. “That you are, Ms. Bailey, but do you have something to teach me?”
“That you don’t already know? I doubt it.”
“It’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for,” he remarks.
“Was I quiet last night?”
“No, ma’am. Truth be told, I’m starting to feel a little sorry for your neighbors.”
“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “They take their hearing aids off when they go to bed.”
Gabe turns the conversation around. “And you. What did you want to be growing up?”
“An astronaut,” I reply bluntly, “but you can see how that worked out.”
“You wanted to explore the galaxy, walk on the moon?”
“I wanted to see the Death Star, actually—Way too much time spent watching Star Wars with Dad.”
“So you are a nerd.”
“I’m a fan of fine films. What’s your favorite—film, that is? Wait, let me guess. Is it Top Gun?”
“As much as the thought of buff guys playing beach volleyball turns me on, no.”
“Under Siege?”
“There’s only one real SEAL movie.”
“Act of Valor?” I suggest, hopeful.
“G. I. Jane,” he smirks back.
I roll my eyes. “You’re joking, right?”
He shakes his head. “Am I not. The plot’s holed up like a block of Swiss cheese, there are technical errors all over the place, but that guy who plays the master chief? He has it down pat. Gave me fucking chills.”
“I know something else that will give you chills…”
“Does it involve us getting naked?”
“It might,” I reply.
“Then signal for the bill, because this Chief is going to G. I. Jane your ass all over that bedroom tonight.”
Less than a minute later we’re walking out the door, running to Gabe’s four-wheel-drive hand in hand like a couple of horny teenagers.