Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“We’re doing paintball and drinks after.” It wasn’t that Bacon wasn’t capable of planning a raunchy party, but he just didn’t seem to have the energy for it lately.
“Awww. Come on, man.” Curly faked indignation—they’d talked about this and no way did his fiancée want him having an X-rated party anyway.
“You can’t have a party without girls,” Donaldson whined. “That’s just gay.”
Bacon waited a beat for someone other than him to be the one to speak up and put Donaldson in his place, but as usual, no one censored him. Especially recently, the guys—Donaldson wasn’t the only one—seemed to think they were super funny when they trotted out their homophobic wisecracks.
“It’ll be fun. And you can’t be saying shit like that,” Bacon warned him, not wanting to start a fight, but he really couldn’t let him run off at the mouth, even if Bryant wasn’t at his side.
“What?” Donaldson acted all ignorant, same as always. They were almost to the food, but not close enough as far as Bacon was concerned.
“Dude. We’ve got the reporter here.” Curly shook his head.” You want him reporting we’re a bunch of Neanderthals?”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Bryant said mildly.
“See?” Donaldson crowed triumphantly as he bumped Bryant’s shoulders. “And I’m right. Everything’s better with hot chicks.”
“Wouldn’t say that,” Bryant drawled, and Bacon tried to beam him a shut up message. He respected the hell out of Bryant for being out, but he had no idea what a minefield he was walking into here. Luckily, they reached the food and their attention shifted to filling their plates. Bacon took double portions of eggs and biscuits, while Bryant accepted a scoop of oatmeal and some toast. He was going to have to eat more if he wanted to keep up with them in the field.
Bacon took the chair next to Bryant, uneasiness making his back itch. Maybe it would all be okay. Maybe he wouldn’t have to add protecting Bryant from the team’s fucked-up attitude to the list of jobs he did not want. All went okay as they ate, Bryant going back to observing and jotting some notes in a little book, old-school style, while Curly returned to humble-bragging about the wedding. But then Donaldson turned his attention back to Bryant, and Bacon’s stomach sank.
“So what does your chick think of you being gone for a few weeks? You married? You look married.”
“You mean I look old? Like I need a minivan?” Bryant laughed.
“Well, if the dad jeans fit,” Curly teased around a big bite of toast.
“Not married. No kids.” Bryant shrugged, and Bacon tried to will him to leave it at that. But of course he couldn’t stop here. “Ex-husband would think it’s pretty cool, though. He embedded with the army a few years back himself before he got on the White House beat.”
“Husband?” Donaldson made a sour face. “A reporter husband?” He said it like the only thing worse than being in a same-sex relationship would be being in one with a member of the press.
“Yup.” Bryant gave him a smile that was far more relaxed than Bacon could have managed. “Ex, though. He’s remarried now.”
Donaldson looked like someone had poured vinegar all over his eggs, and Bacon figured something ignorant was about to come out of his mouth. Thinking fast, Bacon shoveled in the last of his food.
“You ready to see BUD/S?” he asked Bryant. “We should probably get going.”
“I’m not in any rush, but sure.” Bryant kept giving off the same easygoing vibe, seemingly oblivious to how his admission had been a bucket of ice water over the table.
“Let’s go.” Bacon stood, scooping up both his and Bryant’s trays, leaving Bryant to put away his little notebook. Maybe Bryant would be content to stay, but Bacon needed out of there, away from the tension and Donaldson’s mouth and everyone else’s complicity. Even as he barreled out of there, he was hardly eager. He did not want to spend the rest of the morning one-on-one with Bryant. Fuck his life and this long-ass day that was barely underway.
* * *
Spencer didn’t really need a tour of the base—he’d been on military installations before, and honestly he found the interpersonal relations of the team far more fascinating than any landmarks or history lessons. He didn’t put up a fuss, though, when Bacon hurried him away from the table.
And sure, the Donaldson guy was an unmitigated ass, but Spencer found that intriguing. What made him that way? What had happened in his past to make him intolerant? Why was Petty Officer Bacon the only one to call him on his antics? These were the sorts of questions that drove Spencer as a reporter, the desire to seek out the human truth at the center of every story. It wasn’t enough to just dismiss Donaldson and the rest of the guys as a Neanderthal—Spencer wanted to dig deep into the culture that created guys like that.