CHAPTER SEVEN
SHANNON
The next few days at work are blissfully peaceful. I’m starting to realize just how useful having your own personal Navy SEAL is.
You should put him to work on your clitoris…
I stifle the sexual thoughts while I hunt through my wardrobe, read: very small collection of clothes, not very many of which seem to spark excitement.
I’m not a girly girl. I never have been. To me, shopping for clothes is no more thrilling than hitting the supermarket. It’s a chore. But as I push dress after dress aside, a stunning realization occurs to me: I’m actually having trouble deciding what to wear.
I don’t know why I’m getting so worked up about it. It’s not like I’m even going on a real date. I’m simply going over to Gabe’s to discuss this meeting with his mother—nothing more.
I show up at Gabe’s in a simple peach shirt-dress thingy one of the girls gave me for Xmas… three years ago.
I feel out of place in it, an alien, but when Gabe opens the door my reservations are gone. His eyes say it all.
“You look,” he’s having trouble finding the appropriate words as he lifts his eyes, “amazing.”
I hold the side of the dress. “Oh, this? Just something I had lying around.” I’ve been dying to use that line forever.
He stands aside. “Come in.”
I step past Gabe into the apartment, brushing his chest on the way through and confirming that, yes, the guy’s made of concrete, abs like an exit ramp leading down to…
Do not even go there right now.
I stop when I find another man standing in the lounge. He looks similar to Gabe—same height, same panty-frying features—but he’s dressed in a tailored linen shirt and pleated pants, far from the fresh-from-tour military chic Gabe’s going for.
He smiles and offers his hand. “Hi, I’m Matt, Gabe’s brother. Nice to meet you.”
I take his hand, finding my voice. “And you.”
There’s a touch of disappointment when I realize Gabe and I won’t be alone, but then again this could also be a valuable way to get the inside scoop on my future fake husband.
I take a seat, wrapping the dress around my thighs and placing my hands in my lap.
“Can I get you a drink?” offers Gabe.
“Just water, thanks.”
Matt relaxes on the lounge opposite, clearly at home here. “So, Shannon, tell me how my blockhead of a brother managed to reel you into this?”
My eyebrows jump. “Um, I don’t know. There was a guy messing with me at this bar. I suppose Gabe was my knight in shining armor.”
Matt laughs, slapping his knee. “There’s nothing shiny about Gabe, not when you’ve spent that much time in the sandpit. Ain’t that right, big brother?”
“Don’t listen to a thing he says,” comes Gabe’s voice from the kitchen. “Matt wet the bed until he was fifteen.”
I look to Matt. “O-kay.”
Matt lowers his voice. “This from a guy who Mom busted with his dick in the vacuum cleaner. I’m surprised it didn’t suck the thing clean off.”
“I can hear you,” Gabe calls.
Matt winks. “Just wait until I tell you about prom. This girl with braces, Gabe—”
“Shannon doesn’t not want to hear about any of that,” says Gabe, reappearing and placing two glasses of water down.
“Why?” asks Matt. “You’ve seen There’s Something About Mary, right, Shannon?”
“Uh…”
“You know that scene with Cameron Diaz where she’s doing her hair thinking she’s using hair gel but it’s really—”
Gabe places Matt into a headlock. “And I think that will be enough of that.”
He lets Matt go, who takes one breath before continuing. “You’re not even going to tell her about the birthmark shaped like Colombia on your ass cheek, your aversion to shellfish, your love of lattes?”
“Lattes?” I question. “Do all SEALs drink lattes?”
“Only the ones with vaginas,” laughs Matt, and there they go wrestling to the floor again.
Matt signals his surrender, both boys straightening up.
A phone rings from the back.
“I should get that,” says Gabe.
“Yes,” says Matt, “can’t leave Commissioner Gordon waiting now.”
Gabe punches him lightly in the shoulder. “Asshole.”
“Knob jockey.”
I pick up my glass. “Wow, you two have quite the relationship.”
Matt puts his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m not the one who’s marrying the guy.”
When I’m sure Gabe’s gone, I lean forward and ask, “Honestly, am I crazy?”
Matt sits back and shakes his head. “No. It’s easy to get swept up in Gabe’s world. He’s a likable guy, even if he can be a little stiff.”
“So he’s not going to murder me or anything?”
“Rest easy. You’re in good hands. Well, not in his literal hands. Ah, hell. You know what I mean.”
“He told me about the thing with your mother and I couldn’t say no.”
Matt looks between his legs at the carpet, nodding. “Yeah, she’s pretty damn excited. She only wants the best for him, to settle down and all that. She says he’s been married to the Navy for long enough, and I’d say lucky even to be alive given the kind of situations he’s been in.”
I can only imagine.
“He’s a good guy,” continues Matt, clearly on his brother’s side.
I’m not sure whether I should ask, but I’m genuinely curious. “Has he had any long-term girlfriends, ex-wives I should know about?”
Matt laughs just like his brother, his thick, dark eyelashes framing his eyes. “Gabe doesn’t know the meaning of ‘long term.’ Even before the Navy, in his glory days, he wasn’t big on sleepovers. And the one long-term relationship he did have? It didn’t end so well. In fact, she died.”
“Oh, I had no idea.”
“He’s a stoic guy, honorable, but if he seems gruff or distant sometimes, that’s why. It really got to him.”
Gabe returns holding his cell. “Sorry about that.” He tosses it onto an armchair, standing between us. “So, what’s the topic of conversation?” He looks to me. “He’s not still on the whole Gabe-used-to-be-a-player thing, is he?”
I feel awful for Gabe after what I’ve just heard, but I put on a smile regardless. “Actually, your brother was complimenting you.”
“On my excellent board game skills?”
“Only if we’re playing Monopoly,” Matt interjects. “Gabe’s always been good with money. I mean, look at this place.”
It is a beautiful apartment, but there’s a certain coldness to it, as though it’s a show home, not something really lived in. There are no photos around, no pictures on the wall. The sole personal touch is a set of dog tags hanging off the coat hook.
Matt gets up. “I should be getting on. Some of us have to work these days.”
“What do you do, Matt?” I ask.
“I work in IT,” he answers, “but don’t ask for details. You’ll be asleep by the time I get to ‘MU-MIMO protocol.’”
“He’s right,” says Gabe. “I swear he speaks purely in acronyms sometimes.”
“This coming from the king of acronyms.”
“So do you enjoy it, the IT job?” I question.
“Yeah,” nods Matt, “though It’s a long way from the movie stunt driver I wanted to be growing up”.
“When you were, like, seven,” laughs Gabe.
“Hey, not all of us can be action heroes, can we?” replies Matt.
Gabe smiles. “You’re damn right about that.”
Behind the playful banter, I see genuine affection between these two. I was an only child. I don’t understand this sibling back-and-forth. I didn’t have brothers or sisters, yes, but I was never spoiled, never made to feel entitled. Dad was very particular about that.
Matt gives a small wave in my direction. “It was nice to meet you, Shannon, and good luck.”
“Thanks.” I smile back, still fiddling with my hands.
Gabe sees Matt out and closes the door, walking back over to me to take up Matt’s spot. “What do you think? Can you see the family resemblance?”
“You’re a little more,” I search for the right word, “bulky?”
Gabe jerks back. “Bulky? I don’t know whether to say thanks or burst into tears.”
I swallow. My mouth is way too dry. I reach for the water. “It’s a good thing. You know, you’re,” I try to flesh out my thoughts with a hand in the air, but it really just looks like I’m trying to jerk off the Invisible Man, “well sculpted.”
Gabe continues to laugh. “Wait until our wedding night.”
I let that one go, staring down into the water. I’m going to need to throw it over my head soon I’m getting so hot and flustered here. The tingling between my legs doesn’t go unnoticed. It’s nice, the beat of a butterfly’s wings.
“Shall we then?” offers Gabe. “I’ll give you a briefing at lunch.”
Pity. I was rather looking forward to a de-briefing. “Lunch?”
“It’s just a short walk.”
I stand and pat down my dress. “Sounds great.”
I follow Gabe to the door, and I can’t quite get over how good he looks from the back, as if those jeans he’s wearing were spray-painted on. But even though I’m looking at him on this superficial level, I’m seeing him in a new light after what Matt told me. Gabe seems like he has it altogether, but maybe there’s a broken man inside.