Page 30 of Mr. Dangerous

"I didn't realize it would offend you. After all, you're the queen ofblunt."

"I drink on occasion," she said. "But I don't drink when I'm onchauffeurduty."

Joe settled into the armchair. "Like you said, Rob, she's always been the smart one out ofyoutwo."

"I don't think I said exactly that. Anyway, I don’t drive after having a drink either." Despite having the muscle mass to metabolize alcohol in a hurry. After Mitch flipped the Audi, I hadn't been afraid to drink, but not if I had to drive. I promised my life to stand between Americans and the evil in the world. Imagining my car as a high speed projectile, made into something evil itself, made mypulserise.

I nudged Naomi, who still stood beside the couch. "Are you going to sit? Rest up for another harrowing trip when we leave Boston? I've been on rides through Afghanistan where the driver seemed lesstense."

Naomi glanced at me, her face neutral but her posture stiff, and wandered across the living room to look at the movieposters.

"I want to hear all about this Navy nonsense," Joe said. "I thought you were going to be aMarine."

"The Marine recruiter was closed the day I turned eighteen,"Isaid.

"You always were impulsive. Too bad." Joe reached out to clap me on the shoulder. "I'm proud of youanyway."

"Thanks," I said. My tone was light. As if those words didn’t run into a deep, aching well that my father had dug intomysoul.

Joe settled back into his armchair with an exhausted sigh. "You see your dadlately?"

"Haven't had thechanceyet."

"You know he lives just at the other end ofthecity."

"Yeah, I'll go for a visit." I jerked my thumb at Naomi, who was strangely intent on a poster ofThe Sands of Iwa Jima. "Can't keep her away from her cats too long, but we're going to have breakfast with him tomorrow morning before weheadback."

"Oh, god, not more about the cats,"Naomisaid.

"I know, can't some things besacred?"

Joe’s eyes swiveled back and forth between Naomi and me, then returned to mine. There was a knowing flash in his eyes, but all he said was, "What did your dad think about you joiningtheNavy?"

"He thinks I'm crazy. I imagine that's what most of Newport thought,though."

"That's not what most people think," Naomi said. "They think you're setting yourself up for a political career. Future PresidentDelaney."

"Oh, really?" I briefly imagined myself as President, everything a negotiation, the stakes always high. It sounded like a big pain in the ass. "I don't think that'sforme."

"Best news I've heard all day." Naomi deadpanned without turningaround.

Her jeans hugged the curve of her ass and muscular thighs and calves, even though she wore a baggy t-shirt like she wanted to hide. The t-shirt, and the rise of attraction I felt anyway, made me think of when she joined the swim team. She’d worn this high-necked green swimsuit, and she kept tugging absently at the straps. But once she started swimming, she was all grace. Athletic glutes and calves, and a narrow waist, had made her curvy in her own way even though she was petite and flat-chested. She smiled as climbed out of the pool, her hair a sopping dark knot on top of her head. There were faint summer freckles still dotting her olive skin. I’d felt the comfortable sense of knowing Naomi flicker out. Something new bloomed in itsplace.

I wondered what she looked like in a swimsuit now. Out of one? No, she was right. Sex with Naomi would be amistake.

Fun, but amistake.

"Might I use your bathroom, please?" Naomiasked.

"Of course." Joe stretched out a finger towards the closed door visible down the short hallway. As soon as the bathroom door had clicked shut behind her, Joe leaned over towards me. "She have aboyfriend?"

"Nope."

"You have agirlfriend?"

"No time for agirlfriend."

Joe sat back, looking at mesteadily.

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