Night Watch

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“I’m so sorry,” Britt said. “But my dearest darling needs some air. War wounds, you know, acting up. Excuse us.”

The crowd parted like magic, and she was able to lead Wes into Amber’s house, through a kitchen that was twice the size of Brittany’s entire apartment, and down a long marble-tiled hallway.

Most of the guests were outside, and once they were alone, Wes leaned back against the wall and laughed until his eyes watered. “The Bering Strait?” he gasped. “Do you know the average water temperature in the Bering Strait?”

Well, considering it was up by Alaska…“Cold?”

“Very cold, my dearest darling. No one’s doing anything raunchier than Eskimo kisses underwater up there. Believe me. You go into that water, and you’re in a dry suit. Which is even more cumbersome than a wet suit. And then, even within the dry suit, there’s the small matter of the effect of freezing temperatures on male anatomy. Pun intended.”

Brittany grinned at him. “Men are such fragile, delicate creatures.”

“Tell me about it.” He grinned back at her. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to marry me before introducing you as my fiancée, but some of those women were starting to circle like sharks. It was just a matter of time before they attacked.”

“And you really don’t want that?” Brittany had to ask him, suddenly serious. “I would never say this in front of Andy, and if you repeat it to him, I’ll deny having said it, but it’s not as if these women are looking for a lifetime commitment right from the start. And you…You can’t exactly have Lana, right? I certainly won’t think less of you if you—”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he said. “Unless you decide to join the circling sharks.” He was only teasing. He wiggled his eyebrows at her as he leaned closer. “I’ll be your bait any day, babydoll. Have I mentioned how much I love that dress?”

“Repeatedly,” she told him. “Wes, come on. Seriously. Who knows? Maybe one of these girls actually has a soul. Maybe you’ll meet her and forget all about Lana. You’ll never know if it’s even possible if you don’t let yourself get close to anyone else.”

He sighed. “Britt, these women don’t want to discuss philosophy with me. They want to jump me in their car.”

“Gee, what’s that enormous blob blocking out the sun? Oh, my God, is it your ego?”

Wes laughed. “Yeah, no, I said it wrong. They don’t want to jump me, they want to jump a SEAL. Any SEAL. It has nothing to do with me. They just want to be able to tell their friends that they got it on with a SEAL. You know, add that to their sexual resume.”

Ew. “Really?”

“Yeah. SEALs get laid simply by being SEALs. Anywhere, any time. It doesn’t matter what we look like, doesn’t matter who we are. And yeah, I’ve taken advantage of that more than I like to admit and…I don’t know. Right now I’m tired of it. I’m going through this phase, I guess, where I want the woman I’m in bed with to like me for me—at least a little bit.”