“This is a crazy idea.” Spencer tried to keep up with Del’s determined march across the parking lot.
“Yup. Reckless and impulsive. That’s me, remember? But this isn’t one of my worst ideas.”
“Oh?”
“You want to be friends, right?” There was something uncertain on Del’s face but he continued on. “Wouldn’t friends be better than this awful...missing each other business?”
“Us together would be better,” Spencer countered. Then because Del had said he needed time to think and he didn’t want to be the guy continually going for the hard sell all evening, he added, “But, yes, I’d like to think we could be friends too. I miss the friendship stuff almost more than the relationship stuff.”
Del sighed heavily as they caught sight of his truck. Spencer had only ridden in the souped-up four door Silverado a handful of times, but he recognized the distinctive silver color with black trim and red accents. It gave the country truck more of a punk edge, suiting the man himself.
“The relationship you were determined not to have.” Del shook his head.
“I didn’t count on falling in love with you,” he admitted.
“Dude.” Del whirled on him. “You don’t get to go trotting that word out now.”
“Sorry. Timing. But it’s the truth.”
“Here’s what we’re gonna do.” All of a sudden, Del was Bacon again, the SEAL with a plan back on that island. “We’re going to have a nice meal with my mom—and no, you’re not going to wheedle out of it—and you’re going to talk about teens doing business and whatever else you’re working on these days. And we’re not going to mention that word again. Yet.”
Spencer’s pulse sped up at the world of potential in that yet. And knowing Del had kept up with him made him stand a little taller. “You heard my NPR piece?”
“I did. Now behave.” Del approached the passenger side of the truck. The window was down, and the woman Spencer had seen earlier with him sat there, country music coming out the speakers.
“Messing with my presets again, I see.” Del gave her an easy smile.
“You know I don’t like that garage-band stuff of yours.” She returned his smile, but her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Spencer.
“Mom, this is my friend, Spencer. He came down from LA to watch my ceremony. Would it be okay if he ate with us?”
She worried her lip with her teeth, and Spencer was afraid he’d already failed this test.
“I recognize you. From the back of the book Junior gave me for Christmas. You’re the writer.”
“I am. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell Del I was coming. I understand if you’d rather have him to yourself.”
“Of course you’re welcome.” She patted her short, grayish-blond hair. Other than the hair, she looked a lot like Del—long, lean build, intelligent blue eyes, and generous mouth. “I’ll just move to the back—”
“You will not.” Spencer swung himself into the backseat before she could protest further. “I’m fine back here.”
Del went around the driver’s side and got in, switching the radio off. “Now where do you want to eat, Mom?”
“It’s your day,” she demurred.
“It’s yours as much as mine. Couldn’t have done it without you.” Del gave her a smile so filled with love that Spencer’s chest hurt. He wanted to earn that look too.
“You’re sweet.” She patted Del’s hand.
“And we all know that there’s a grand total of three places you’ll let me take you to.”
“Now, Junior, I’m just not as adventurous as you. But your friend probably is...”
“I can eat anything,” Spencer said, even if that wasn’t quite true. But he was supposed to be charming her. “Pick your favorite.”
That turned out to be a fifties-style diner near the airport, which Del already had saved in his truck’s GPS.
“Mom lives for their cookies-and-cream milkshake.” Del gave her a fond look before putting the truck in Drive. Spencer really liked getting to see this side of Del, the loving son who liked indulging his mother.
On the drive there, Spencer was content to listen to the two of them banter, Del threatening to make her try some Mexican place again, her telling him not to plan on stealing her fries.
“He can have mine,” Spencer offered, this entire jaunt feeling rather surreal. But if it got him forgiveness faster, he was all for it.
“Their onion rings are amazing too.” Del turned into the crowded parking lot for the restaurant. To his mom, he said, “Spencer usually eats healthy. We’re probably corrupting him.”
“Hey, Spencer can eat a burger,” he protested. So far, he probably wasn’t making the best impression, which was somewhat disheartening. He’d never really had to impress parents before, never really cared about making them like him. But then nothing had ever mattered quite as much as Del, securing a future for them.
“Prove it.” Del’s eyes flashed at him as they exited the truck. Spencer was more than a little tempted to kiss him, get him as off balance as Spencer was. But his mother was right there, looking between them with undisguised speculation, so he restrained himself.
Instead, he went into reporter mode while they waited for their food, asking Del’s mother all about her work at an elementary school as an aide. Her love of her work shone through, as did Del’s obvious pride in her. He also followed Del’s orders to talk about the story about the teen business owners, which she asked good questions about, and he ended up telling them both about a piece he’d pitched to a national magazine about the rise of crowd-funded podcasts as a legitimate media source.
“You should do one. I’ve listened to some of the ones you’ve guested on, and you always do well.” Del was dipping fries in house-made ranch, and Spencer was trying not to cringe at that combo.
They hadn’t been lying about the food being good—the onion rings, something he hadn’t eaten in maybe a decade, were perfection with a crispy batter, and the burger was thick and juicy with an amazing sauce. Del talked him into trying a milkshake full of real strawberries. Del, as usual, managed to pack away his own food as well as extras from his mom and Spencer.
“Got a long run tomorrow. I’ll burn it all off.” Del patted his nonexistent gut as they finished. And damn, he looked even more edible than the milkshake in that khaki dress uniform.
There was a brief tussle over the check with all three of them making a play for it. Spencer, however, had more experience being fast with his credit card than either of them.
“Do you want to come along while I take Mom home?” Del asked.
“Sure.” Spencer tried not to sound like he was desperate to get Del alone even though he totally was. He continued his role of trying to get Del’s mother talking while they drove to Chula Vista. She seemed happy enough to answer his questions, but she was reserved, hard to get a read on, a problem Spencer didn’t usually have with interview subjects. Usually, he was good at putting people at ease and reading their cues, but he was all kinds of off right then.
When they arrived at the small two-story apartment complex, they all got out of the truck—Spencer to move to the front seat, and Del to hover over his mother.
“You want me to walk you up?” he asked her.
“No, Junior. You and your friend are probably eager for time to talk, just the two of you.”
Del laughed. “Spencer’s the person I told you about—the one who broke up with me a few weeks ago.” He delivered this news matter-of-factly, and Spencer had to fight the urge to ask him what the hell he was getting at, telling her that.
“Oh.” His mother’s mouth formed a perfect circle. “I thought I had a feeling...”
“Figured you might.” Del hugged her. “He wants to win me back, but I told him he has to impress you first. How’d he do?”
Way to put the woman on the spot, Del, he tried to say with his eyes. And he was far more nervous about her response than he had any right to be.
“You call Junior Del,” she said instead of giving a direct answer. “Why is that?”
“Because that’s who he is to me. I like having something special to call him. He’s special to me.” Since Del had said no L-word talk, he left it at that.
“He is special,” she agreed. “I’m not the type to lecture. But just...take care of him? Okay?”
“I’d like to try.” Every ounce of Spencer’s longing came out in his words, and at last, she smiled. Del, infuriatingly, said nothing, and his expression remained unreadable.
“Good.” She had a big hug for Del and a shrewd look for him before walking away.
Del waited until they saw her unlock her second-floor unit before speaking. “What lot did you park at back on base?”
“What? That’s it? You’re just going to take me back to my car?”
“Chill, Spencer. I am one hundred percent capable of talking and driving at the same time. And it’s been a hell of a long day for me.”
“I’m sure.” Spencer softened his tone. “We could go to my hotel, let you rest...”
“We both know if I come up to your room, we’re fucking.” Del’s voice was firm as he pulled out of his mother’s parking lot. “And I’m still not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Because you’re still mad? I’m so, so sorry I hurt you, Del. That wasn’t my intention—”
“Yeah, it kind of was.” Del drummed his fingers against the steering wheel at a red light. “You intended to choose your story over me. Over us. And I’m more than a little worried about the next time you decide a story’s more important than what we have together.”
“It’s not going to happen. I told you. I’m giving up the book. I want us to be together. I want to put us first from here on out.”
“Yeah, well, I’m working on believing you about putting us first. And as for the other, I don’t think you should give up the book for me. That’s a recipe for resentment right there.”
“I’m not going to resent you. I couldn’t.” His voice shook as Del took the on ramp for Highway 75 faster than he was ready for. The sun was setting over the San Diego bay, and the scenery should have relaxed him, but he couldn’t let go of the tension coursing through him. This was too important.
Del shook his head like he didn’t believe Spencer. “I’ve thought about this nonstop for two weeks straight, and I’m not sure there’s a compromise. I want you to write this book. The world needs this book. It needs you to write it. It’s good, important work.”
“You wanted me to drop it,” Spencer reminded him. “You asked for that, actually.”
“Yeah, well, that wasn’t right of me. I’ve been reminded just how needed your sort of reporting is. But I’m just not sure I’m prepared to deal with the professional fallout if you publish it and we’re together. I want to say yes, yes I’ll deal. Because I do care about you that much, and I want to be together that much, but fuck, I just made chief.”
“I know. It’s not fair to put you in the middle if Naval PR decides to come after me.”
“I really want to be that guy for you, Spencer. The one who tells you write what you need to write and that we’ll deal.” Del’s eyes were dark and pained.
“Us being together is the important part,” Spencer insisted. “And I was wrong to choose to put the story ahead of that. You believing in the project, wanting me to do it, that does mean something to me. It really does, but I’m not going to put you in that position.”
“But years from now—and I want years from you—you’re going to look back on this book, at what you could have done, and you’re going to resent me. You will.”
“I want years too.” Spencer was getting a little desperate here. “And you’re wrong—there is room for compromise here. I’ve been thinking about this continually, especially since Oscar died—”
“Hold up. Oscar died?”
“Yeah. A few days ago. My piece on him ran in Sunday’s paper.”
“I’ll read it. I’m so sorry, Spence. I know he was important to you.” Del gave him a quick squeeze on the arm.
“He was.” He had to clear his throat from the emotions threatening to bubble over.
“And he’d want you to do this book.”
“You don’t know that,” Spencer countered. “And actually, I don’t think so. I think he’d want me to make things work with you more. I think he’d tell me that there are other stories, other chances to make a difference, but only a few shots at love.”
Del growled at that word.
“Can we still not say that? That’s what this is for me. I love you. I want a future together. I want to be public together—I don’t want you to have to hide what we have because of something I’m writing.”
That Del didn’t immediately reassure him that he felt the same way made Spencer’s stomach sink. More so when Del didn’t speak as they exited 75 except to deal with base security. He found a space near Spencer’s car, big truck dwarfing Spencer’s poor Beemer.
“I’m sorry. I just assumed you felt the same way. I shouldn’t have—”
“I didn’t say I didn’t.” Del’s narrowed eyes gave him a fierce expression. “Told you. Losing you gutted me. I want a future measured in years, not Spencer’s next deadline.”
Ouch. That cut, made his chest feel raw with the accuracy of that barb.
“I can’t promise to never write something that makes you upset, but I can promise that it won’t end us—no story is more important than ours. The one we’re creating. Our story. That’s the one I’m really missing out on here if we don’t give it a second chance.”
“So no more deal-breakers? And I was guilty of the ultimatum-throwing too. I can promise I won’t do that over a story again either. We work things through, together?”
“Yeah. We can talk. And I should have talked to you sooner. Way sooner. That’s on me.”
“I still don’t know about you not writing the book.” Del bit his lip, exact same spot his mother did when she’d been uncomfortable around Spencer. “That’s a lot to ask of you. And you’re saying now that you won’t resent me, but maybe I’ll resent it, wonder what you could have done with it.”
“First, I’m not hurting for cash. Losing this deal isn’t going to break me. Second, I’ve got Oscar’s memoirs now, and that’s a project that needs me too. I’m really finding myself excited about the prospect of editing them, getting them ready for publication. Third, I’ve told you about my work mentoring the interns at the paper. I think I have the right young writer in mind for this—I can work with her on it, be more like Oscar and mentor her, keep my hands on the project, but more behind the scenes where it won’t hurt your career as much. It’ll be her book, her byline, but I can make sure the research is impeccable and that the stories get told.”
“You’d do that? Let someone else take the credit?”
“There was a time when no one wanted me doing more than fluff reviews for the arts-and-entertainment page. But Oscar gave me my first real scoop, told me to run with it. He could have given it to a more experienced writer, but he gave me a break. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately about my legacy, and I want to know that I did my part to mentor the next generation. So, yes, I think I could be okay passing the project on to someone else.”
“And you really think I’m worth that?” Del’s voice was quiet.
“You’re worth so much more. So much. And it’s us. We’re worth finding compromises on for stuff like this.” Spencer pulled him toward him—it was not unlike trying to move a khaki boulder, but he succeeded in making Del look at him. “Tell me that we can try again. For real this time.”
“And if people give you shit for meeting me on assignment? Because that’s coming, I’m sure. A lot of people may not care, but some will.”
Spencer made an impatient noise because he didn’t really want to think about that right now. “I’ll deal. As you said, I’m Spencer Fucking Bryant. I’ll take my lumps, and honestly say that we didn’t start up until after the assignment, and I’ll deal with the blip to my reputation.”
“Okay.”
“That’s it? Okay?” Spencer blinked.
“Okay, we can do this thing. Not try. Do it.” Del finally, finally closed the gap between them, leaning in for the barest brush of lips. “I’m a SEAL. We don’t try. We do. And I do want to do this with you.”
“Come back with me,” Spencer urged. “Even if it’s just to sleep. You look exhausted.”
“I am,” he groaned. “And sleeping next you sounds like heaven, but I need to be prepared for some more making-chief hazing tonight and tomorrow morning. I probably need to stay in the barracks tonight, but fuck, how I have missed you.”
“You mean my bed and my shower and my cooking?”
“I mean you.” Then they were kissing for real, kissing like the world might burn down around them and they’d still be here in this truck, wrapped up in each other. But because they were in a truck, on base, where someone Del knew could see them, Spencer reluctantly pulled away, and busied himself straightening Del’s uniform.
“Missed you so much.” Del rested his forehead against Spencer’s. “Does us being together now mean I can drag you to this thing I have to do next weekend?”
“Absolutely. Especially if I get a night with you in the bargain.” He tried not to look too desperate to get Del in his bed again.
“It’s Curly’s wedding. My team and other friends will be there.” Del regarded him carefully, wariness back in his eyes as if he was expecting Spencer to say no.
“Then I guess I’ll bring a suit.” Spencer sighed. “I know it’s not going to be easy for you, coming out to them, and I’ll handle whatever grief they give us because I want to be there for you. With you.”
“Good answer.” Del kissed him again, a soft, lingering kiss that promised more. They still weren’t back on firm ground, but at least Spencer felt like they had a path forward, and he’d take that for now.