Sailor Proof by Annabeth Albert
Chapter Seven
Derrick
“This is a terrible plan.” I greeted Arthur at the ferry station with the complaint because it saved me having to figure out how exactly one greeted a fake boyfriend. None of our target audience was around—just the usual ferry traffic, people heading for boats and buses. But was I supposed to keep the act going at all times? I wasn’t sure, and I particularly didn’t like the part of me that was demanding I greet Arthur with a hug or something more.
Back tight, I ignored those impulses and led the way to my car. I’d been up early to go claim it from the buddy who lived off base and who stored cars for a few of us when we were deployed. I’d taken it for a wash and oil change, and now it gleamed in the summer sun.
“Oh, come on. It’s a great plan.” Arthur threw his overloaded bag in the back seat. He was back in more familiar attire—a T-shirt featuring woodwind instruments duking it out with horns and loose jeans with messier hair. But still hot. Damn it. “And no more grumbling. It’s a gorgeous day for a drive, and you’ve got a sweet ride.”
He whistled low as he circled the car, blatant appreciation for my classic Dodge Challenger in his eyes. The red finish with black details really was eye-catching, and driving the car always lifted my mood.
“Thanks. Did a lot of the restoration on it myself.” Because I was deployed so often and had lived mainly on base, I didn’t need a commuter car. Indulging myself in a classic a few pay grade promotions ago had been a rare splurge for me, and Arthur’s appreciation of my hard work made my chest warm.
“And thanks for not making me ride with Calder and his crew.” Arthur opened the passenger door but didn’t seem in any hurry to climb in.
“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I made you ride with your brother?” I managed a smile for him. Might as well get in the habit. The decision to drive myself had been far easier than the decision to come in the first place. I liked having my own wheels, my own way to leave an event, and Calder was bringing two friends from base. No way did I want to be stuffed in the back seat again with Arthur practically in my lap. There was only so much temptation a guy could take.
“Are you the kind of boyfriend who parts with the car keys?” Grinning impishly, Arthur tilted his head.
“Not a chance.” I jangled my keys as I headed for the driver’s door.
“I’m just saying, you probably haven’t driven in months.” He wasn’t wrong, but I merely snorted. No matter how long I’d been at sea, I never forgot the pleasure of an open road and the purr of a well-tuned engine. And even Calder didn’t get to drive my baby. Arthur, however, was determined. “I could help you out with that. My brothers made sure I could drive a stick.”
“Good to know.” I pointed at the passenger seat. “Get in the car, Arthur.”
“And no kiss hello? I’m wounded.” Laughing, Arthur slid into the seat. Despite his leaner stature, he had the same long limbs as his brothers and moved with a surprising grace given how distracted he could be at times.
“I think I’ve had enough PDA now to last a lifetime.” I waited for Arthur to buckle up, then backed out of the space and headed north. I kept my voice light, but I wasn’t kidding. The last few days had been endless jokes and teasing about my viral welcome home, and if I hadn’t already regretted the deception, all the attention would have done it. And honestly, the gossip was a huge reason why I’d messaged Arthur that I was in for the reunion. The trip couldn’t be any worse than sticking around base.
“That’s just a shame.” Arthur used an exaggerated scolding tone as we sped past the outskirts of the base.
“How do you figure?”
As I stopped for a red light, he winked at me. “You’re too damn good at kissing to keep it all to yourself.”
“Think so?” The back of my neck heated.
“You looking for compliments?”
“Nah,” I said, even if I kind of was. He’d seemed so singularly focused on the audience that it was nice to know that the actual kiss had been tolerable for him.
“Seriously, though, how bad was the teasing on base?” Arthur asked.
Bad. My buddies were crass and mouthy on the best of days, and having something to rib me about made them even more so, and that didn’t even start to account for the random comments from people I barely knew. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“At least tell me that your snake of an ex drunk-texted you all salty.” He sounded all proud of himself. Outside, the traffic finally thinned out as we made our way toward the canal bridge that would take us onto the Olympic Peninsula.
“There might have been a text.” I couldn’t hide my smile, and Arthur predictably chuckled. Steve jealous was a nice ego boost even if he had insinuated that Arthur was too young for me. Like he had room to complain. I hadn’t bothered with a reply.
“Knew it.” Arthur’s tone was triumphant before he shifted to more curious. “Would you have him back if he and Lieutenant Idiot break up?”
“Nope. Fool me once and all that.” Steve had lied. And lied again. And been an ass about the logistics of the breakup. And now seemed to delight in rubbing his thing with Fernsby in my face. “I’m out on relationships.”
“Other than the fake ones.” Arthur shifted in his seat, almost like he was worried I might change my mind and turn the car around.
“Other than playing pretend. Don’t worry. I’m not going to leave you stranded or something. When I give my word, I follow through.”
“I know. Your trustworthiness is why my mom likes you so much.” Arthur sighed and stretched, looking out at the canal and the mountains beyond the wide body of water. “And see, this is nice. We can enjoy the drive, and there’s none of that tension about if we’ll last as a couple and what we’re gonna do later and all that.”
Speak for yourself. He might not be nervous about things like sleeping arrangements and being alone, but certain parts of my body were already tense and we weren’t even to the part with a space with multiple flat surfaces and a door that locked. But he didn’t need to know how his mere nearness affected me, so all I said was, “Yeah.”
“So where was our first date?” Arthur demanded.
“Excuse me?” Blinking, I kept my eyes on the road even though I really wanted to know what the heck he was after and if he was joking.
“We need a good story,” he explained with more patience than I probably deserved. Fake relationship. Right. Yet more details to manage. “People are going to ask, and if our stories don’t match, the gig is going to be up.”
Being found out might put an end to this fake relationship nonsense, but it would also be all kinds of humiliating. I’d had enough embarrassment for the decade thanks to Steve and then the viral kiss, so it was better to have a ready lie. “Okay. We went with Calder for food—”
Arthur cut me off with a pained groan. “Derrick. I’m twenty-five. Not fifteen. We most definitely did not have a chaperone. And surely we can do better than dinner.”
“Dinner is a no-go?” I didn’t have the most experience with dating, but dinner seemed pretty standard fare.
“It’s boring. And lacks romance. After that kiss, everyone’s going to expect some swoony story, not burgers and the latest big-studio action flick.”
Well, then. Maybe Arthur had unwittingly explained why my relationships had never worked out. But rather than confess my lack of a romantic soul, I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel.
“Okay, King Romance. Let me think how I’d impress a discerning date like you.”
“Hey, who says you’re the one doing the asking?” He yawned like my lack of game was just that dull. “Maybe I had tickets to a classic car show last time you were stateside.”
“Not a bad idea.” That he knew me well enough to suggest something fitting made me feel that much guiltier for tossing out dinner with his brother.
“Would you have said yes?”
“Uh...” I made a strangled sort of noise because I could picture it only too well. Us at some family event, me there with Calder, us making small talk, him making the offer. And me far more tempted than I would have ever thought a week ago.
“I don’t mean for real.” His sigh was so dramatic that I didn’t have to glance over to know he was rolling his eyes.
Yes.I would have said yes. And probably set about a path to tanking one of my oldest friendships. But even with his reminder this was all fake, I could still see the scene, taste the tang of temptation.
“Sure. It sounds fun.” I tried to match his casual tone. “But how about...” I wanted to impress him the way he had me, wanted to be more than some stodgy fun killer with zero romantic bones. “The zoo has these annual outdoor concerts. The music might not meet your fancy college standards, but maybe we took a takeout picnic. Something chocolate for dessert.”
“You remembered I like chocolate?” His little pleased chuckle went straight to my groin.
“That and you’d probably be more impressed if I took you to some obscure tuba or didgeridoo concert, but we better pick something that I know for sure actually occurs. The fewer holes in our story the better.”
“Yeah. Okay. I like it.” Arthur slapped his thigh. “First date was the zoo concert. Second was a car show. And third was none of their business.”
I coughed. And coughed again, oxygen suddenly in short supply.
“Careful there. Work on not having a horror movie recoil at the idea of sex with me.”
“I wasn’t—”
“It’s okay. Just stick to the story and we’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t so sure, but I let the conversation drift off rather than end up in even more uncomfortable territory. No good could come from telling him it wasn’t horror that stole my breath but rather sudden, swift desire. Damn kiss, lurking near every conversation.
We continued our drive north, but it didn’t take too much silence before Arthur wiggled around in his seat again. The guy’s need for perpetual motion made me smile even as I wished he’d pick a position and stick with it.
“Does your stereo have a connector for my phone?” he asked.
“It should.” I’d installed a nice stereo a few summers back, a modern one with GPS and an interface for my phone. “Feel free, but please tell me you’re not still in your Austrian Funeral Dirge phase.”
“That was one summer.”
“And then there was the phase where all you listened to was obscure ancient computer stuff.”
“Eight-bit chiptunes. Classics. But no worries, I’m not subjecting you to those.”
“I’m still nervous.” I laughed, this lightness between us both welcome and kind of weird, how easy it was to be around him.
“Don’t be. I made us a special playlist last night.”
“You probably make a playlist for getting groceries,” I teased as we took the Hood Canal Bridge with its spectacular view of both the canal and sound.
“Guilty.” Arthur fiddled around with his phone and the stereo until a vaguely familiar seventies ballad filled the car. “And I had fun, trying to figure out what music a silent, brooding sailor might like.”
“You could have asked me.” We’d texted a few times in the lead-up to today’s journey, mainly practical stuff, but I wouldn’t have minded some conversation. Hearing from him made my chest do a little skip, and I couldn’t decide whether it was anticipation or guilt over the continuing deception.
“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Arthur hummed along with the music, perfectly in tune. He’d always been more obsessed with instruments and digital music, but his singing voice was quite pleasant, and I let one song bleed into another until I had to laugh.
“Does every song involve water in some way?”
Arthur made a happy noise. “You guessed it. Yay.”
“You’re easy to please.” I shook my head.
“You have no idea,” Arthur muttered as the song changed to one I knew, an oldie that had been in a movie my grandmother had loved, and I sang along. Our voices mingled nicely. We weren’t going to win any music reality shows as a duo, but he was fun to sing with.
“You’re good,” he said as we finished.
“That’s what I hear.” I waggled my eyebrows at him, loving his easy chuckle.
“Did you ever do choir? Like high school?”
“Nah. I’m not really the performing type. I’d sing along with my grandma and the radio, though. She had a nice voice and could play piano. Made me take a couple of years of lessons.” I groaned at the memory of her hawk-nosed, exacting music teacher friend who had made me do scale after scale. I’d preferred her other friend, Flora, the cranky loudmouth who swore worse than any sailor in my crew and who spurred my love of classic cars.
“Lessons are the worst.” His voice was sympathetic. Outside, the landscape was much more rural, endless acres of evergreen trees, and we weren’t even to the mountains or the national park yet.
“Says the guy who taught himself a half dozen instruments. We’re not all geniuses like you.”
“Not quite genius, but at least my fake boyfriend has a high opinion of me.” Arthur sounded happy, like all the sunshine and gorgeous scenery was working its magic on him, making him all punchy and adorable.
“Ha. You’re impressive and you know it.” I let his ego have the win, but his tease also reminded me of something I’d wanted to ask him on the drive. “Speaking of the fake-boyfriend thing, though, how do you want to play this?”
“What do you mean?”
“We covered the backstory, but what sort of boyfriend are you wanting me to be? Distant? Attentive?” I tried to keep my voice casual. This was strictly data collection so that our ruse didn’t fail the first night of the reunion.
“My preference matters?” Seeming surprised, Arthur shifted around in the seat again.
“Well, yeah. You’re stuck with me for a week. Seems like you should at least get a fake-boyfriend experience you enjoy.”
“Awww. You’re sweet. Just be yourself.” Arthur’s voice was warm, but he maybe had too much confidence in me. “What sort of boyfriend are you normally?”
“Uh.” I made a sputtering noise as we slowed for a curve. I took a minute to handle shifting gears, while I searched for an answer. “Other than Steve, I don’t have a ton of relationship experience, and clearly I fucked that one up, so maybe you could help me out here, tell me your ideal boyfriend traits.”
“Whoa, whoa.” Arthur threw his hands up. “You didn’t fuck up. You’re not the one who cheated and lied, and whatever my opinion might be on how much deployments suck for relationships, he signed up for that sort of separation when he decided to be with you.”
“I don’t think anyone is truly prepared for deployment. It’s hard on even the strongest of couples.”
“As I well know.”
“And... I maybe wasn’t the most attentive when we were in port,” I admitted. If I couldn’t be honest with my fake boyfriend, who could I be? “He complained about me taking on extra responsibilities that weren’t strictly job requirements. And he said I wasn’t as fun as he’d thought. He was really social, liked going out and parties, and I think staying in with me started to chafe.”
Memories made my jaw clench, and I looked straight ahead, at the rolling terrain, not at Arthur.
“Then he should have spoken up.” Voice firm, Arthur tapped the dash for emphasis. “Like an adult. No sneaking around.”
“Yup.” Damn but it was nice to have someone on my side instead of dishing out well-meaning advice that inevitably made me feel worse. “And I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear all my pitiful relationship drama.”
“I don’t mind.” Laughing lightly, Arthur finished with a big yawn. “And for the record, I’m no prize either. I get lost in composing and forget to eat, let alone remember dates to hang out. I once totally forgot I had someone over.”
“Oops.”
“Yeah. It’s not that surprising that I haven’t had the most practice with boyfriends either.”
“Ha. We’re a pair.” If I was going to be hopeless at relationships, it was at least nice to have company.
“Hey! How about we use this week as practice?”
“Practice?” My voice came out wary even as my brain jumped ahead to all sorts of sexy things I’d like to practice with him.
“Yeah. Be better boyfriends. The kind we’d like to be when it counts.”
“Huh.” Not that I was ever traveling the long-term relationship route again, but Arthur made a certain amount of sense. It might be nice to get my confidence back, stop beating myself up for my shortcomings. “That’s not a terrible idea.”
“I do have good ideas. You just have to trust me more.”
“Working on it.” Considering that the last time I trusted him I ended up with a kiss I still hadn’t recovered from and a fake relationship that kept getting more complicated, I was still a little skeptical of this plan. Being nice to Arthur was hardly a chore though, so perhaps Operation Be a Good Boyfriend wouldn’t be that hard.
“Okay, so I’ll try not to forget you exist—”
“Pretty low bar.” I had to laugh and Arthur joined in.
“Hey, I’m starting small. And you can practice spending time with someone instead of work, work, work. Easy.”
If only. The spending-time-together part wasn’t going to be difficult, but I still doubted our ability to pull this thing off unscathed.
