up
her living quarters wherever that may be. We'll grab more, but for
the time being, there are aroma therapy candles.”
Confused I ask, “Aroma what?”
“Scented oils.”
“Why?”
“Four hundred-thread-count Egyptian
sheets.”
“Why would you purchase sheets from
Egypt?”
Realizing she's confusing me, she stops. “Oh,
dear. You're like a savage sometimes.”
“A Marine, ma'am.”
“I know. Simplicity is the faithful companion
of a Marine.” She offers a faint smile at me. “However,
domestication is the faithful companion of love. Now, eat some
breakfast, Haven, so we can do some real shopping.”
She points, “What about the–”
“You can review the paperwork this
afternoon,” she insists. “Now, skedaddle so we can get going.”
I plop down on the stool beside Haven, the
sweet smell of syrup mixing with the sweet smell of her. “Where are
we going?”
“We?” Mindy's perfectly thin eyebrows rise.
“Oh, no, Slugger. No.”
“With all do with respect, Mindy, I'm not
letting her out of my sight.” I pick up a piece of bacon, my eyes
challenging hers.
Surprised, Mindy puts a hand on her hip,
prepared to argue with me until she can't anymore. We've never
argued about girls before. In fact, the only women she's
occasionally seen me with are the ones I’ve happened to be trying
to get rid of before the sun rises as she grabs the morning paper.
And Le Le. The advice and conversation for both of them were always
the same, no more than a “Please be safe” and a “Respect your home
for what it is.” But Haven is different. I don't know how she
knows, but she does, the way I imagine my mother would if she were
still alive.
Not letting Haven out of my sight isn't just
about the fact I want her close to me, but I’m her ultimate
protection. I help her feel safe. Yesterday, Haven was afraid when
she heard the mailman come to the door. For a moment, she thought
it was someone else more menacing. Taking her out in public seems
risky. But she needs the exposure to feel free, to start to face
her fears. On the off chance we go out and she's spotted, I need to
be there. Defend her. Protect her. Bury the bastard on the
spot.
She growls, lifting her Starbucks cup back up
to her lips, “God, Slugger, you're just like your father.” Unsure
of what that means, I do my best not to glare. With a wave at me,
she finishes, “Fine. But try to keep up?”
Feeling victorious, I cock a half-crooked
grin and slide another piece of bacon into my mouth. How hard could
it be?
Instinct is a big part of how I operate, not
only on the field but off as well. It's what has kept me alive when
doing missions and kept me sane when operating in unfamiliar
territory, but I learned today I have none when it comes to women.
OK, so I wouldn't say none, but I am getting more clueless by the
minute. Haven and I spent the day with Mindy at high-priced
boutiques and expensive spas. I kept a close watch on the employees
as they eyed Haven’s bruises, curiosity clear on their faces. With
the help of my cold stares and Mindy's cash distractions, her usual
stylists promised discretion, and no one mentioned anything out
loud.
The two of them get things done to them that
make me wonder how exactly they don't get exhausted from just
getting dressed in the morning. Thankfully, I spend the day
observing and not speaking too much. I've always believed I had a
good grasp on how the opposite sex functions, but after seeing what
goes on behind the curtain, I'm not sure I do. Today was like being
in enemy territory yet having no idea, no clue, how to survive
without succumbing to their every request.
Last night at dinner, Haven was given the
short version of our little village's secrets. Once she got more
comfortable, she asked several questions, but Sir didn't give many
answers. He doesn't trust her. Facts say he has every right not to.
The feelings inside of me are screaming mercilessly that he
couldn't be further from the
her living quarters wherever that may be. We'll grab more, but for
the time being, there are aroma therapy candles.”
Confused I ask, “Aroma what?”
“Scented oils.”
“Why?”
“Four hundred-thread-count Egyptian
sheets.”
“Why would you purchase sheets from
Egypt?”
Realizing she's confusing me, she stops. “Oh,
dear. You're like a savage sometimes.”
“A Marine, ma'am.”
“I know. Simplicity is the faithful companion
of a Marine.” She offers a faint smile at me. “However,
domestication is the faithful companion of love. Now, eat some
breakfast, Haven, so we can do some real shopping.”
She points, “What about the–”
“You can review the paperwork this
afternoon,” she insists. “Now, skedaddle so we can get going.”
I plop down on the stool beside Haven, the
sweet smell of syrup mixing with the sweet smell of her. “Where are
we going?”
“We?” Mindy's perfectly thin eyebrows rise.
“Oh, no, Slugger. No.”
“With all do with respect, Mindy, I'm not
letting her out of my sight.” I pick up a piece of bacon, my eyes
challenging hers.
Surprised, Mindy puts a hand on her hip,
prepared to argue with me until she can't anymore. We've never
argued about girls before. In fact, the only women she's
occasionally seen me with are the ones I’ve happened to be trying
to get rid of before the sun rises as she grabs the morning paper.
And Le Le. The advice and conversation for both of them were always
the same, no more than a “Please be safe” and a “Respect your home
for what it is.” But Haven is different. I don't know how she
knows, but she does, the way I imagine my mother would if she were
still alive.
Not letting Haven out of my sight isn't just
about the fact I want her close to me, but I’m her ultimate
protection. I help her feel safe. Yesterday, Haven was afraid when
she heard the mailman come to the door. For a moment, she thought
it was someone else more menacing. Taking her out in public seems
risky. But she needs the exposure to feel free, to start to face
her fears. On the off chance we go out and she's spotted, I need to
be there. Defend her. Protect her. Bury the bastard on the
spot.
She growls, lifting her Starbucks cup back up
to her lips, “God, Slugger, you're just like your father.” Unsure
of what that means, I do my best not to glare. With a wave at me,
she finishes, “Fine. But try to keep up?”
Feeling victorious, I cock a half-crooked
grin and slide another piece of bacon into my mouth. How hard could
it be?
Instinct is a big part of how I operate, not
only on the field but off as well. It's what has kept me alive when
doing missions and kept me sane when operating in unfamiliar
territory, but I learned today I have none when it comes to women.
OK, so I wouldn't say none, but I am getting more clueless by the
minute. Haven and I spent the day with Mindy at high-priced
boutiques and expensive spas. I kept a close watch on the employees
as they eyed Haven’s bruises, curiosity clear on their faces. With
the help of my cold stares and Mindy's cash distractions, her usual
stylists promised discretion, and no one mentioned anything out
loud.
The two of them get things done to them that
make me wonder how exactly they don't get exhausted from just
getting dressed in the morning. Thankfully, I spend the day
observing and not speaking too much. I've always believed I had a
good grasp on how the opposite sex functions, but after seeing what
goes on behind the curtain, I'm not sure I do. Today was like being
in enemy territory yet having no idea, no clue, how to survive
without succumbing to their every request.
Last night at dinner, Haven was given the
short version of our little village's secrets. Once she got more
comfortable, she asked several questions, but Sir didn't give many
answers. He doesn't trust her. Facts say he has every right not to.
The feelings inside of me are screaming mercilessly that he
couldn't be further from the
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