EIGHT
Fisher
I suspected the issue with Major Pratt wouldn’t end well. As a result, I’d been reluctant to move forward with Anna, especially from a sexual standpoint. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. Being sexually involved with her over a four-day period – and then going back to prison – would have been selfish and inconsiderate on my part.
Now that I knew I wasn’t going back to prison, I viewed things much differently.
I hadn’t been to Oceanside – or to a beach – since my infantry training. Being there brought back memories, and with them came a flood of emotion.
“This is awesome,” Anna said, waving her hand toward the horizon. “As far as you can see. Nothing but ocean.”
I twisted my bare toes into the wet sand and recalled the many nights I surfed until the sun set against the western horizon. “It’s tranquil, isn’t it? Being here? Seeing it?”
She grinned. “It is.”
“I loved this beach when I was training here. I’d come here every chance I got.”
“So, you’ve been to this exact beach before? Walked on this sand?”
“I have. I’ve walked on this sand, surfed these waves--”
“Wait. What?” Her eyes went wide. “You can surf?”
“I can.”
“Can you show me?” she asked excitedly. “Teach me?”
“I will. If you want me to.”
She watched the waves crash ashore for a moment, seeming fascinated by it all. When she turned to face me, her smile had faded.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She looked up. “It’s just. I don’t know. I left everything back there. In Texas. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had. Being with you has been awesome, but this is kind of a wakeup call. I need to get a job, I don’t have a car, I haven’t got any money, and I don’t have anywhere to live.”
“You can stay with me.”
“Thank you. But. I still need to get my life together. I spent way too much time with Josh, and I have nothing to show for it but a bunch of emotional scars.”
I reached for her hand. “I’ve got as much or more emotional scars than anyone. I don’t have a family, and I’ve lost touch with all my Marine brothers. I think I wanted to come here in the hope of finding one of them. The chances of that are pretty scarce.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You don’t have any family?”
The thought of proceeding with my adult life without them was unsettling. I shook my head. “They were killed in a car wreck when I was a senior in high school. Losing them was what prompted me to join the Marines.”
She squeezed my hand. “I’m so sorry.”
I pulled her into me and wrapped my arms around her. After a long embrace, she looked up. “I don’t have any family, either.”
“What?”
She chewed her bottom lip as she responded. “I never knew my parents. I went from foster home to foster home until I was old enough to run away. Then, I went from that to the abusive prick I was with. My life’s been interesting.”
“So, you’ve got no one?”
She shrugged. “Not that I know of.”
“Looks like all we’ve got is each other.”
“Kind of. I mean, this whole thing has been hard to believe.” She chuckled, and almost choked on it. “I hopped on the back of a motorcycle with a man I didn’t know, and rode across the United States with him. I still can’t believe it.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No.”
“Let’s start over.” I took a step back and extended my hand. “Hi. My name’s Fisher Knox. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She smiled. “Anna. Anna Marie Mc Cay. Nice to meet you.”
“I’m looking for a place to live and a roommate who knows how to cook. Can you cook?”
She nodded eagerly. “I can cook anything. I’m so serious right now. I’m not good at much, but I’ve been told I cook well.”
“So, you’re interested?”
She smiled. “Very.”
In attitude and in appearance, she was an adorable woman. “What else are you good at?” I asked playfully.
She glanced over each shoulder and then leaned toward me. “We’d be arrested if I showed you here,” she whispered.
“Sounds like it’s time to leave.”
She took one last look at the ocean and then met my gaze. “I’m ready.”
“I thought you wanted to spend some time here.”
She reached for my hand. “I’d rather spend some time cooking, and, well, the other thing.”
I had an idea what the other thing was, but I wanted to find out for sure. So, hand in hand, we walked up the beach and toward my motorcycle.
“I’ve got commitment issues,” I said as we reached the bike.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“If I have sex with someone, we’ve got to agree first that we’re committed to one another. I don’t do one-night stands. Everything’s got to be in place, and my feet have to be firmly planted on the ground first.”
She laughed, but it seemed forced. “You’re thinking the other thing was sex?”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
She shook her head. “It’s sewing. I’m good at cooking and sewing,” she said straight-faced. “I can fashion a shirt from scratch.”
I turned off the bike’s alarm and then switched on the ignition. Acting indifferent regarding her response, I mumbled a comment over my shoulder. “That’s a damned shame.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’m really good in bed.” I looked at her. “I thought if that’s what you were talking about, we’d be a good match.”
“Get your feet planted firmly, and I suppose we can find out,” she said dryly.
“So, you’re planning on sticking around?”
She grinned. “As long as you’ll let me.”
The thought of having someone in my life on a permanent basis was exciting. I lost my parents, graduated high school, joined the Marines, went to war, and then spent seven years in prison.
Other than learning a few lessons, I’d made no progress since graduating high school.
“First things first,” I said. “We need to sell this gold and find a place to live.”
She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Let me know when we get there. I’ll cook dinner.”
That was one meal I couldn’t wait to eat.