“Oh, that makes sense.” She sounded sincere, but Carson had the distinct feeling he was being played. A little mischief crossed her face. “You don’t look 42. You can’t be a day over 30.”
Carson raised his eyebrows. “Just a shade over.” The next statement was out of his mouth before he could give any consideration to how it might be received. “Are you going to become my problem child?”
“I hope so.” Her voice sounded over-eager to Carson. “I don’t imagine that’s too terrible of a role to fill. The problem child gets all the attention.”
If Carson thought he’d misinterpreted her earlier signal, he no longer had any doubt. She was flirting with him. He hadn’t been the recipient of such interest for so long he almost forgot what it was like. But this was neither the time nor the place for him to respond. “Well, that may be true, but right now there are other problem children who need my help, so I’m going to need you to straighten up and fly right for a few minutes. I’ll have to deal with you later.”
Katie’s eyes brightened, and the tiny beauty mark on the left side of her upper-lip danced about as she pursed her lips in a smile that made his stomach do a flip. “I see,” she replied, letting her gaze linger for a moment before focusing on her monitor.
Carson cursed himself as he made his way back to his own seat. What are you doing?! He couldn’t handle dating or getting into a relationship, and he doubted this young woman wanted a quick roll in the sack. Clearly, she had no idea how broken he was, how bad he would be for her. He sat down, resolving to act more like an adult than an eighth-grader mooning over a girl he met in study hall.
***
When the instructor decided it was time to break for lunch, most of the class bolted out of the room fast enough to make people in the hall think it was on fire. It wasn’t so much that they wanted to escape the training but, being visitors, they knew only of the main cafeteria and how long it took to get there.
Carson lingered, so much so Katie suspected he was trying to avoid joining her for lunch as he had promised. Maybe he was playing hard to get. Combined with the sense of mystery he projected, he presented a challenge, and that was just fine with her. She went over to him as he scrolled through his emails. “Hey, are you trying to ignore me?”
His finger paused over the ESC key for a couple of seconds, ostensibly giving him time to finish reading the last paragraph of the email, but Katie got the impression he was countering her aggressiveness by intentionally delaying his response. All right, then. It’s on.
“Nope,” he said, finally looking up. “I’m letting everyone clear out so they won’t follow me to the little cafeteria that’s right around the corner. It’s close, it’s never crowded, and the food is actually a bit better.” He winked dramatically.
“I knew it was a good idea to hook my wagon to you!” A minute later, they were in a small room with about 15 round tables, only half of which were occupied, and each sat down with a tray of food.
“So,” Katie said as she allowed a spoonful of her New England clam chowder to cool, “do you live close-by?”
Carson shook his head, holding a fork loaded with salad a couple of inches from his mouth. “I’m pretty close to where you work. I’m in Lewes.”
“Where’s Lewes?”
“North of Rehoboth, on the bay.”
“Oh, that’s pretty close to me.” Katie furrowed her brow. “But I thought it was pronounced ‘lose.’”
“No, it’s like ‘Lewis.’ Everybody makes that mistake.”
“I live right down the road in Laurel. We’re practically neighbors.” All kinds of good news.
“How long have you lived there?”
“About four months. I got a place after I left my husband, and now I finally have a decent job.”
Carson frowned at hearing about her marital situation, although his eyes didn’t change from their languid appearance. “I’m sorry to hear about that.”
“Me leaving my husband? Don’t be. Too long in coming. I’m much happier now.”
“Oh, well that’s good. Where did you live before Delaware?”
Katie squared her shoulders with pride. “Born and raised in Stowe, Vermont.”
“Wow, that’s quite a move. Why such a drastic change?”
Katie resisted the urge to answer Carson’s question as truthfully as she wished. “I just wanted to be in a place where I could make my own way, on my own terms, and not have the comment and rumor machine running non-stop.” She paused, letting the dark cloud lift. “So here I am, having a gourmet lunch with my guide!”
“Gourmet?” Carson snorted derisively. “I got better chow in the Navy.”
“Navy, huh? That’s cool. Did you get to steer the big boats?” Katie knew absolutely nothing about the Navy nor any other branch of the service.
Carson raised his eyebrows, feigning disbelief. “Well, boats aren’t big. Ships are big. And, to answer your question, I have steered boats. The only time I steered a ship was at the Academy during basic training, and that was on a simulator.”
“So how big is big enough to be a ship?”
Carson paused, clearly trying to determine how to answer without confusing her further. “Look at it this way; a ship can carry a boat, but a boat can’t carry a ship. So, an aircraft carrier is a ship, but the motorboat that it launches to rescue a man overboard is a boat.”
“So,” Katie deadpanned, “you’re saying size matters.”
Carson nearly choked on his food. “Well, in this instance, it makes a difference, yes.”
“Gotcha. So, you were probably an admiral, right?”
“No. I was a master chief petty officer, an E-9.”
Katie gave Carson a blank stare. “Is that good?”
He shrugged. “It’s neither good nor bad. Pretty much every enlisted man in the
