Boot(s)

29-Boot

Sergeant Jackson

"Are you sure? I can move. I'll move."

I made a half-hearted effort to push myself off him, but it was mainly just for show. He knew it, too. He grabbed the neckline of my sweatshirt and yanked my body back on to his. "Stop, Pete. Stay put, please. You weren't making me uncomfortable, but now you are." He was looking at the TV, his head sideways, but I could see he was smiling, so I did as he said. I let my cheek press against his chest, shoving my new leg as far into the couch cushions, away from him, as I could.

Bo insisted on aggressively watching the news every Sunday morning, so I was practically asleep when his phone rang ten minutes later. Sighing under his breath, he reached into the pocket of his sweats. Inadvertently, his hand digging around in his front pocket rubbed up against the front of my thigh, where I was, in fact, laying on top of him. It was embarrassing how much the touch—through two layers of fabric—made me squirm.

When he saw who was on caller ID, he swore, then answered it before I had the time to ask what that was about.

"Brandon!"

It took me a minute to remember, but then it hit me. Brandon, the Naval officer. Brandon, Jessie's husband. Brandon, the man who Bo's been filling in for for the past six years.

I could hear him talking on the other line. "... it's a surprise for Jess and Bella. I'm beyond excited. I'm getting into the airport later this afternoon and wanted to keep everything quiet, but the driver I normally use takes Sunday's off, and this was kinda a last-minute thing... And I wouldn't ask you unless it was absolutely necessary, but—"

"Of course we'll be there. What airline? What time?"

"God, Bobby, you're a lifesaver. United. I'll be in around 2. Did you say we?"

I felt Bo crane his neck to look down at me. "Oh. Yeah. Peter, remember? Jess told you he's been living with me, right?"

"Of course. Of course, Peter. That's right. Well, that would be great. I really appreciate it, Bobby."

"Anything for you guys. We'll see you at 2. Bella's gonna be so excited."

"I know. Trust me. Thanks Bo, talk soon."

"Talk soon."

When he hung up, instead of shoving his phone back in his pocket like I had been desperately waiting for this entire time, he tossed it on the coffee table.

"Wow," he mused. "He doesn't do this often. His schedule is usually pretty strict," again, I felt him try his best to look at me. I tilted my head upwards to meet his eyes. "Do you think something's wrong? Could you ever leave unexplained like that?"

"He's probably fine. You get time off, yeah." But I never took it. Not for personal reasons, at least.

Bo turned back towards the TV. He had one hand dangling over the side of the couch within reach of the remote that he stashed on the floor. The other one of his hands sat loosely on my back. I pressed myself against it. "Should we go into the city? Get brunch and make a day of it?"

"Why, Sergeant Jackson," the arm around my back tightened. Squeezed. The combination of that and sergeant almost made my eyes roll. "That is a grand idea."

An hour and a half of us sluggishly downing the rest of our coffee, showering, and changing later, we were in the car, and a bit pressed for time if we wanted to get brunch. Neither of us cared, though. I could be stranded at an old gas station with him in the middle of the Boonies, and I wouldn't have cared.