Tank
Page 20

 M. Malone

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The boardwalk isn’t my favorite place, usually because it’s chock full of tourists, but this is where Emma wanted to meet. I’ve asked her out for weeks so if she’s willing to give me a chance, I’m willing to meet wherever she wants.
Emma stands a few spaces over peering into the trunk of an older sedan. When she straightens and sees me walking toward her, she waves. “Hey. I thought we could take a walk on the beach. I packed a small cooler for us.”
She points to the small red and white cooler in the trunk of her car. I lift it easily.
“Did you pack anything for me?” It doesn’t feel like there’s much in the cooler and definitely not enough to feed two people.
She blushes. “Probably not enough.” Her head disappears into the front seat of the car and when she emerges, she’s holding a thick multicolored beach towel.
“I’m prepared.”
She’s so cute that I don’t have the heart to tell her that half of my body will likely be hanging off that towel. We walk down and find a spot on the sand. There are only a few people out here. It will be a completely different scene once summer comes. She spreads the blanket and I set the cooler on one end to hold it down. Emma sits on the other end facing me.
“Are you hungry?”
I squint up at the seagulls diving above us. They remind me of my conversation with Finn a few days ago. At least I could tell my brother that I finally made it to the beach.
“I could eat. That’s true pretty much all of the time.”
She laughs softly. “Yeah, I’ll bet. Well, if you’re good, I even have desserts in here.” She pulls out sandwiches, small snack bags of chips and a plastic container of red velvet cake.
“You know, I’ve never been on a date where the girl planned everything. Will I get my balls back after this is all over?”
She looks up at me, and then lets out a little giggle. “Is it that threatening?”
“No, I’m just joking. Badly, obviously.” I look down the sand to where a few other couples sit on towels, similarly enjoying the unseasonably warm weather. The sky is a crystalline blue dotted with fluffy white clouds that look like floating cotton balls. I close my eyes and let the breeze coming off the water flow over me. Above me, I can hear the cry and call of the seagulls.
“I’ve never really been a beach person.”
Emma stops her fussing with the food. “Sorry, we can go if you’d rather do something else. I just thought it would be a quiet place we could talk.”
“No, this is nice. I find myself willing to make an exception for you. So, how long have you worked for Patrick?”
Her face falls slightly. “Just a few months. After my parents died, Mr. Stevens was the one who handled their estate. He’s an old family friend. I think he just feels sorry for me, really.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“No, it’s okay. I know you didn’t know.”
We sit in awkward silence for a minute before she asks, “So, what about you. What did you do before you worked as a bodyguard?”
“I was in the military. I’ve been working for Alexander Security ever since I got out.”
“What branch of the military?”
“Army.”
She looks at me expectantly when I don’t provide any additional details.
“Most of the missions I was on were classified so I can’t really talk about them.”
“Of course. I don’t need to know details. I was just wondering what you did, you know, in general?”
“Um, I was a sniper actually.”
“Oh. Really?” Her eyes go round and she takes a big bite of her sandwich.
I dig in the cooler looking for another sandwich. Anything to distract me from this painful silence. What am I supposed to say, I used to kill people?  I did scary stuff that I hope you won’t ever have to know about? There’s just nothing that I can say to put her mind at ease. I’m reminded of my last girlfriend, Jenna’s, words.
You’re just too much sometimes, Tank. Too damn much to deal with.
“Oh. Well. Okay then.” Her eyes roam over the sand, the waves crashing to the shore and then to the birds flying overhead. She’s working as hard as I am to think of something to change the subject. Apparently she’s not having any more luck than I am.
Damn this is awkward.
“Don’t worry. That’s always a conversation killer. It’s not just you.”
Her eyes light up. “Good. I mean, not good that it’s a hard question to answer but good that … oh, never mind. So, tell me more about you. What’s your family like?”
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. “That shouldn’t be a difficult question to answer either. And yet, it is. I apologize, Emma. This is the least normal date you’ve probably ever been on. To answer your question, I grew up with my younger brother, Finn. He’s like a shorter, less attractive, version of me.”
Her lips quirk up at the corners. “I’m sure. Sorry if it feels like I’m questioning you, or something. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You weren’t. You are asking perfectly normal questions. It’s just that my life is a little too reality show for a girl like you to understand.”
“What does that mean? A girl like me?” She raises her eyebrows.
“The kind of girl who grew up with two parents and a dog. The kind of girl who wears sweater sets and thinks hell is a bad word.”