"Okay," I said, feeling a foolish grin cross my face and stepping aside to wait for our order.

  O'Reilly clapped me on the shoulder. "See, you just needed a wingman."

  I decided to forgive him for embarrassing me. I was meeting up with Eden to arrange a date thanks to his interfering, after all.

  Ugh, now he's going to take credit for our relationship.

  I mentally sighed. Eden was totally worth it.

  six

  EDEN

  It was official. I was the most reckless guy alive. I'd let myself fall for that guy's attempt to help his buddy and agreed to meet up after work to arrange a date.

  One date! I told myself sternly. I've obliged myself to only one, so I can go out, have fun, then tell him it was nice hanging out but there was no chemistry. We'll part as friends, and that will be that!

  It had to be that way, no matter what my heart said, or how cute he was trying to talk to me, or what his friend said on his behalf. I had Prahdah relying on me. I was all she had, really, as I knew we couldn't rely on Chantal forever either. I needed to get that apartment, get us insurance, and see if I could track my Dad and Amy down so they could sign her over to me. If not, I'd have to figure out another way that would see us just having to file in court without social services becoming involved. If I had to, once I was full-time, I could look at other AAFES positions out of state, in one where gaining legal custody would be simpler.

  One step at a time, I reminded myself. Full-time first, and insurance. Then get an apartment. Custody stuff afterward as I’d look responsible and could show I was able to provide everything she reasonably needed.

  "Can I have onion rings instead of fries?" the soldier ordering asked me.

  "You sure can," I smiled. "It'll add a little more to the cost of your combo, though."

  "That's fine. Onion rings, please."

  I was absolutely exhausted by the time the lunch rush was over.

  "Go take your lunch," my manager said, coming to take over. "What do you want? Order anything."

  I settled on Martin's usual order, a bacon, mushroom, and cheese double with fries and a chocolate milkshake.

  She laughed. "Well, somebody's hungry! Go sit down. I'll have it brought out to you."

  I gratefully did as I was told. It didn't take long for Shelly, a new hire who started this morning in the kitchen, to bring it out.

  "Thanks," I said, opening the burger box.

  "You're welcome," she smiled, turning away to go gather some more trays to wash. Fred came out as well, only he emptied the trash.

  "A'ight?" he mumbled, walking past.

  "Yep," I replied, and he gave a nod before shuffling off, a bag in each hand.

  I gobbled my food down as fast as was seemly and without choking, knowing just how quickly thirty minutes could go. I felt overfull afterward and decided a lighter choice for dinner would be smart.

  I cleared my tray away and went to use the restroom, making sure to thoroughly wash my hands, same as I always did, whether working around food or not. I handled the orders as they came in, helping man the fry station until the start of the dinner rush while everyone else took their breaks and finished cleaning the lobby, outside eating area, and bathrooms.

  Then the pre-dinner rush began, passing in a blur until everything came to a standstill as the post loudspeaker began to play. It was five pm and Retreat was playing. Everyone stood at attention, turning to face where the post flag was being lowered. Soldiers saluted, as did children and several spouses. The rest of us stood at attention, a few with a hand over their heart. I knew if I glanced over at the road, I'd see every vehicle stopped and people standing by their cars. The last notes played, and it was like a switch was flipped as everything started off exactly where it left off. The first time I’d experienced it, I had been stunned.

  Before I knew it, it was six, and I was being replaced by one of the closers. I ordered my free food, ordering that bunless salad of a Big Mac Martin and Sam had ordered at lunch. I ordered two without thinking, and the manager threw in a Happy Meal toy regardless.

  "Healthier eating, huh? I try not to feed my kids a lot of nuggets and fries either," she said as she handed me two bottles of juice. I slid it all into my backpack with thanks and headed out.

  "Hey," Martin said, straightening up from where he'd been slouched against the wall.

  "Hey," I replied. I blinked. "Don't think I've ever seen you out of uniform before." He was hot in his uniform, but in form-fitting black jeans and a navy blue Henley with the top button undone? Pure sin.

  "Yeah? You like?"

  "I do," I purred, momentarily forgetting myself.

  His lips quirked up. "You know, I've never seen you out of uniform either."

  I flushed. "Yeah, well, it's not like it's as cool as yours."

  He hummed at that, then reached for my hand. "Last bus already went. Which way? Enlisted housing, officers, or gate?"

  I stared at him for a moment, my brain already short-circuited from the zing of electricity that shot through me when he touched my hand.

  Stuff like that is supposed to only happen in books, right? So why now? That wasn't static.

  He tugged me gently forward.

  "You felt that, right?" I asked, still trying to wrap my head around it.

  "Oh, definitely," he replied, looking smug. "I was hoping it would happen but wasn't sure if it ever would."

  I fell into step beside him, wanting to know what he meant.

  "See," he continued, "it all started with my grandmother. She went to spend the summer at her uncle's farm, and at a barn dance, felt it when this guy took her hand in a grand right and left. That's where the gals turn one way and the guys the other, and they go round the girl, right hand, then left, and do it until back with their original dance partner."

  "Oh! And he wasn't her dance partner, huh?"

  He chuckled. "Nope, he was a new farmhand on a nearby farm, and luckily he'd gone stag and was dancing with an unattached young lady who also wanted to dance. He came calling on her after that, and they got married the following summer. Then with my mom, she went on a blind date. That guy stood her up, and the waiter felt sorry for her and brought her out a dessert to try to cheer her up. His hand brushed hers, and he looked into her eyes, and they both just knew, just like grandma and grandpa. Dad was working his way through college, and they got married right after he graduated. Mom finished the year after. My sister got zinged when she shook hands with the new loan officer at her bank. They've been married two years now. My brother zinged with a woman he pulled over for an expired tag when he went to hand her her license back."

  I laughed at that. "How long have they been married?"

  "Two years. I'm the baby and the only one in the military. I'm gonna have to call Mom and tell her we zinged."

  He stopped walking. "Okay, so which way now?"

  "Straight on to the main gate," I admitted.

  "Of course, it would be better if I get to describe our first date too. I was hoping you'd be free tomorrow and would accompany me as my guest to the buffet dinner at the NCO Club."

  Dinner could be pricey. Buffet didn't sound too fancy-dancy, but it being at the Club made it sound exclusive and fancier than a cafeteria kind of buffet or a cheap all-you-can-eat place, both of which would honestly stretch my budget anyways. I'd kind of hoped he'd invite me to the base theater as the cheap ticket prices and Exchange-priced candy would be easier on my wallet.

  "My treat, of course, seeing as I asked you this time."

  "I don't know where that is," I admitted.

  "Just meet me at the front gate. I'll come meet you," he said, just as the said gate came into view.

  I found myself agreeing. I was off tomorrow since I was working Saturday, so it was doable.

  "Okay then," he said as we stopped by the guard shack.

  "This is me," I said lightly, disengaging our hands. I immediately felt bereft at the loss of his touch.

  "Wait," he said as I began to turn away. I turned back to see what he wanted, and he pulled me towards him, one hand on my shoulder, the other cupping the back of my head possessively. He crashed his lips to mine, and that zing was back, causing my lips to tingle and my toes to curl as I kissed him back with just as much fervor.

  We broke apart, panting, and he cupped my chin, swiping my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

  "Fuck," he murmured. "What you do to me already."

  "This isn't a make-out spot," the MP said, looking amused.

  I squeaked, realizing that everyone passing in and out of the gate in their cars during this busy time of the evening saw us.

  "See you tomorrow," I blurted, hurrying away to catch my bus. It was only once I was on the last leg home that it registered. Everyone who had zinged together had gotten married. I felt cold. Shit. Saying we didn't have chemistry wasn't going to work now, especially not after that kiss. What the hell was I to do now? I had until the end of our date tomorrow to figure it out.

  seven

  MARTIN

  We'd zinged; he let me hold his hand all the way to the gate, and we were going on our first date tonight. I was still walking on air by the time I got up and made it to formation at 0700, right before heading to the chow hall for breakfast.

  I could already tell it was going to be a fabulous day. The sun was shining, but a cool breeze gently blew, and if it kept up, it would keep the worst of the heat away. The shuttle bus wasn't crowded, and I got a seat to myself. Then, when I made it to the chow hall, the cooks were making omelettes to order.

  "Look at you!" O'Reilly said as I sauntered into the office. "Plans going well?"

  "I held his hand, and we zinged."

  His eyes grew as round as saucers. Last year, after a few beers at the company picnic, he'd told me about how it had been love at first sight with his new wife and how it always happened that way in his family—with this sort of fluttery feeling and a halo around the person meant to be theirs. He'd expected me to laugh at him, but I hadn't. Instead, I shared about our zings. We agreed that soul mates were totally a thing, and some of us were genetically gifted to be able to find them.

  "No way," he breathed. "What did he say?"

  "He listened as I explained and seemed to think it was awesome. I told him I needed to call my mom after our date so the family would get to know I'd found The One."

  "Since I was your wingman and without me, you wouldn't have gotten to hold his hand to find out if you zinged, I better be your best man at your wedding."

  I laughed. "You and my brother, yeah."

  "Do I need to spell my first name so you get it right for your first child?"

  I laughed harder. "You're ridiculous," I told him. "Besides, we won't want to name our son Doofus."

  O'Reilly clutched his heart. "I'm wounded! Wounded, I tell you."

  "Unless it's serious enough that you need to go see a doctor, work through it," came Captain Spinnaker's voice.

  We snapped to attention.

  "As you were. Somebody please tell me the coffee is already in," he sighed.

  "I'll put it on now," I said, hurrying to do so.

  "Good, because I have to write a fanned report for the post commander explaining that no, two certain people did not have to pay three hundred dollars during a trip to another base within a day's driving distance to catch a Space A flight to Puerto Rico to meet their cruise ship because we prevented them from getting the wife's ID card in time and them having to book a VRBO for two nights while they wait for the ship to dock."

  "But she got her card. She was too late already for the post pharmacy," I protested, spooning coffee grounds into the lined basket. "She could have gone to Walgreens."

  Spinnaker pinched the bridge of his nose. "Precisely what I intend to put in my report, along with the written statement from the head of the pharmacy department."

  I was glad I wasn't an officer and had to write b.s. reports like that. The reports I did have to write for normal stuff were bad enough, but at least they weren't that frequent or due to self-entitled jerks.

  "What's going to happen, sir?" O'Reilly asked.

  Spinnaker's reply made my day. "Oh, I imagine they'll have to go down to San Diego to use base facilities after this. This sort of thing getting out of hand usually ends up with privileges revoked, and he was already talking about banning them from the post. Seems the wife called his office from Puerto Rico and demanded he have the Army refund them their extra travel expenses."

  I stood, glass carafe aloft, staring at him.

  O'Reilly whistled. "Talk about doing something stupid."

  "Yes, well, he needs my report so he has all the facts in the file first. Damned nuisance." He wandered off to his office.

  "He takes cream and one sugar, right?" I asked.

  "I think so?"

  "I'll just take the creamer and sugar in to him. His day already sucks."

  O'Reilly grinned. "Yeah, but just think. We are never, ever going to have to deal with those particular yahoos again unless we get unlucky enough to cross paths at a later duty assignment."

  I beamed right back. That was fab news.

  The clock struck nine, and our first group of people needing their IDs sorted came in. My first job of the day was replacing a damaged CAC card. My second was a newlywed coming in for their first, their wedding certificate in hand. This got me half daydreaming as I worked, thinking about bringing Eden here to turn in his card, courtesy of his AAFES employment, and getting a military dependent one with full benefits instead.

  When it was time for lunch, O'Reilly nudged me. "You've had this weird look on your face all morning. You even forgot to take Spinnaker his coffee, so I did it. Nerves about your date tonight?"

  Shit.

  "Thanks. I guess I have been a bit out of it. Just the whole zinging thing, and then that couple came in with their marriage certificate for her first card, and it got me thinking about the future with Eden and all that."

  O'Reilly laughed. "Whoa, little horsie! Going a bit fast there, pardner! First date is tonight. You might have zinged, but you're not planning on calling me to go to Las Vegas with you, are ya?"

  I laughed. "No, but soon, ya know? I don't see the point of waiting a year or more when we already know it's right."

  He looked at me for a moment and just nodded before saying, "Come on, we can talk about all this over the food I brought." He cackled. "I told Boopsie you'd gone over to the dark side with us, so she's decided to start packing you food too. Said on days you go see your boo, you can have it for supper."

  "Boopsie? Really?" I grimaced, following him to the break room.

  "Hey, pet names just happen organically. You don't sit there and pick them in advance; they just slip out. And now that our friendship has moved to dating and relationship advice territory, it includes getting comfortable with hearing pet names. I call her Boopsie more than I do her real name 'cause she likes it."

  He pushed the door open to the break room, which was empty except for one private who was buying a canned soda from the Coke machine. O'Reilly brushed past him to reach the fridge, taking out two clear plastic lunch boxes and two insulated drink bottles, handing me one of each.

  "Come on, let's eat at the picnic tables under the trees," he said, referring to the ones behind us on the stretch of grass dotted with trees we shared with the buildings next to us on this road and the ones on the next road over behind us.

  "So, what does she call you?" I asked.

  "Bunny," he replied flatly.

  I couldn't help it. I laughed.

  "It's because we always snuggle," he defended himself hotly.

  "Uh huh. Okay, Bunny."

  "I hate you."

  "No, you don't." I crossed my heart. "I won't tell anyone, promise."

  He looked at me suspiciously. "Good, because if you do, I'll tell everyone you made it up."

  I laughed again. "Sure, sure."

  We'd reached the back doors now, and the bright sunshine hit us in the face, a welcome change to the bright artificial lights inside. We picked a table and headed over to them, unsurprised to find none of the rest of them occupied. We sat down, and I opened the lunchbox, which was a clear purple-tinted plastic with a label on it that said it was made by Sistema. A piece of masking tape was on the top, with our last names written in neat block letters.

  Inside, it was divided up into compartments. The main compartment had a roll in it, and a quick inspection showed me it was the soft kind and filled with egg salad. To my surprise, the larger side compartment held a frosted brownie, while the two smaller ones on the left had a little pink lid over them, which lifted straight off. I found salted peanuts inside both.

  I took a tentative bite of the sandwich roll. It tasted pretty damned good. I chewed and swallowed. "Is this that keto bread?"

  "Yeah. Told you it was good. She's using another dough recipe tonight to make us pizza. It's not about denying ourselves foods we like, but making better choices with ingredients and stuff."

  I took another bite. I could eat like this, I decided. "Gonna need to get the recipe," I said, swallowing. "Once I have my own kitchen."

  He nodded. "She took it out of the breadmaker to make rolls, but you can leave it in and have it as a loaf. This one is made with coconut flour, but you can also find recipes with almond and soy flour."

  I stared at the roll in my hand. It was made from coconuts? That blew my mind. I'd thought flour had to be made from grain.

  I put it down, reaching for my drink.

  "Chocolate milk," he said before I took a sip. "I told her about your love of chocolate milkshakes, and she thought you might like it as a substitute."

  I took a sip. It tasted sweet and chocolatey, though the texture was silkier than I'd expected.

  "What's in this?" I asked.

  "Coconut milk, cocoa, and a powdered monk fruit that she keeps a vanilla pod in to make a vanilla sugar type thing."

 

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