OK Here We Go Pt. 01

Ok, so here goes my first-ever submission. Please be gentle with me.

So much of what follows is due to the efforts of my editor. S0rethr0at.

Part One

The darkness of night enfolded me. Clouds covered the sky; there was no starlight and no moon. It was black as a boot. Perfect.

In my ear, a voice whispered, "Move up for 100 meters to the front. Silent approach."

I checked my wrist compass, its dull glow just enough to confirm direction. I slowly started to move. The ground was a wet mixture of mud and rocks, and it made being quiet no easy task.

The voice in my ear whispered again, "Contact front! 20 meters."

I continued forward, my senses picking up even the slightest sound from loose equipment to the chatter in the trench ahead. And before I realized it, to be honest, I was slithering eel-like into a muddy trench. Screams and gunfire erupted all around, and as I got to my feet, a body came charging at me full tilt. With no time to shoot, all I could do was dodge.

I think my attacker must have been as surprised as me as he turned to raise a weapon. Too slow, I dived, grabbed him by the legs, and brought him down, dropping weapons that clattering to the ground.

I felt a glancing blow and then another as my attacker's arms, unencumbered, rained down blows on my head and shoulders. I grabbed his balls and squeezed as hard as I could, he screamed, and the blows stopped. A mixed blessing as the scream would surely bring others running. I grabbed my knife from my boot and lunged at his gut, the knife slid in easily through his cheap uniform, but he still screamed.

"Damnit, shut up, man." Drawing the knife back, I went for the kidney. Evidently, I missed as the guy heaved up and threw me off him. I managed to grab him by his hair and get an arm around his throat. But still, he was wriggling and screaming.

Cursing, I took the knife and worked the tip between his jaw and his ear and lunged with all my strength; the razor-sharp blade slid in. I pressed hard, and the blade continued its journey to cut the brain stem and spinal cord. Working the blade back and forth to make sure this time, I let his body drop.

I was covered in blood, mud, and shit, sweating like a bastard despite the cold night and blowing hard trying to get my breath. I found my weapon and cleaned my knife, returning it to my boot scabbard. I slowly became aware of another presence.

Darkness and silence enveloped me, soft hands stroked me, and a soft feminine voice was saying, "Tom, it's ok, I got you."

How could this be? I was in combat; how had this angel reached me? Dead; that had to be it. I am dead. And a sense of calm washed through my body. The voice, that angelic voice I remembered, belonged to my wife.

Oh, no. How can this be? I started to cry great wailing, desperate sobs of grief. Yet the arms still held me, the voice still spoke to me. Panic set in. What about the detachment. Rusty and Spot and Friday Tinks and Scubber, what about them? They don't seem to be here, so at least they can't be dead, can they?

At least I wasn't in pain. And then some odd happened, a blinding light came on and my daughters Alice and Lucy were bouncing on the bed, throwing their arms around me and crying, "Daddy! Daddy!"

Slowly I became aware. I was not in the freezing, muddy hell of the South Atlantic. But at home in Hertfordshire with my family. I started to cry again while Jess got the girls back to bed. I have these flashback nightmares occasionally now, and I cope with most things day-to-day.

My wife, Jess, is my rock. Without her, I am sure I would have committed suicide years ago. This is our story.

Until I met Jess, my other saving grace had been golf. I started playing as a kid and kept it up over the years slowly. I improved until by the age of 30, then I was down to scratch. It was golf that took me to the US, and although I was never going to be good enough to play on tour, I could get work in a pro shop giving lessons. Long story short, I ended up working for a hotel group in Palm Springs that owned several golf complexes.

The Golf complex I was working as a golf pro at, had a bar that I often went to, to relax. I walked into the bar feeling somewhat self-conscious. I had left the Royal Navy 7 years ago and immediately took a job offer in the US. With my only family being only my dad, life was fairly stable. I didn't have a great job in Palm Springs, but there were a lot worse. Walking around a golf course every day, teaching customers how to batter a small ball around a field more effectively, was certainly not a terrible way to make a living.

The tips made up the short fall in salary, and I got free accommodation and free food if I wanted the use of all of the clubs' facilities if I felt inclined to. I scraped together enough cash to buy an old mustang in decent nick. So, life was settled.

I called dad every week, and he seemed well enough and happy. I was about eight weeks into this life when I saw her. She was working in the bar; waitressing, and must have been new.

As I appraised the view, I mentally made notes. Height: about 5'8'', if reckoning figure: lean and fit. My God, was she fit. Legs the short skirt of the waitress uniform showed off: oh wow, just wow! Face and hair: a shining vision of loveliness.

Her beautiful almond-shaped eyes, olive complexion, and a wonderful cascade of hair, black as a raven's wing, were something to wonder about. That perfect hair fell down her back to lightly caress the most perfect ass I have ever seen.

A voice in my ear whispered, "Don't drool, son, it's rude."

"Who is she?" I asked Harlon, one of the wait staff.

"That is Miss Jessica Sanchez, boy, and if you are thinking of going there, beware, you'll get frostbite from her man."

I looked at him and asked, "How do you know?"

"Boy, I think every hot-blooded male within 50 miles has tried to get to know her, a good number of the women, too." He drawled in his soft South Carolina twang, sounding regretful, almost painful.

"How come I haven't seen her here before?"

"She been home to look after her sick pappa, I think."

"And?"

"Reckon he died. How come she's back here, I don't know for sure, though she won't talk to rednecks like me or no one else on staff for that matter."

My mind started working; she had to be hurting and presumably lonely. And that just should not be the case for someone as knock-out beautiful as Jessica Sanchez. I settled in a lounge chair at the back of the room to just observe.

The bar was busy, and Jessica Sanchez worked the room like a cat watching over her brood of kittens. This seemed to be her natural habitat. She smiled at the customers who spoke to her, especially the ones who were alone. If a customer got fresh with her, she put them down as efficiently as any warrior I had seen. That smile was her best weapon.

Eventually, she came my way. I started to sweat with nervousness, and my natural shyness charged into action, freezing my tongue. I knew I would just stammer like an idiot. This happened every time, every damn time, even after all I had been through, I couldn't talk to a girl without making myself look like an idiot. And now, heading straight for me, was the most incredible creature I had ever seen.

"Hi, Tom." I looked up, startled. "Err, H-Hi."

I stammered, "C-could I get a b-beer, please?"

To my absolute astonishment, she quickly checked the room and then pulled out a chair and sat.

"Hi, Tom," She said again; her voice was like warm maple syrup sliding over pecan pie.

"Hi," I stammered out. "I'm s-sorry, I, err... well, I don't know your name, I'm a-afraid." This was painful; I was making myself look like an escapee from a special learning school. My face burned.

That voice dripped again, "I'm Jessica, Jess to my friends. Tom, you don't have to be nervous, so please try to relax."

She stood, extending those legs and that lithe body in a fluid, poetic move that made my mouth run dry. She brought me my beer and dropped a napkin on the table, nothing unusual in that until I picked it up to wipe the table and I saw the note.

Tom, please, please meet me after work in the lounge. I finish at 01:00 am.

It has to be said that I was so flabbergasted, I just sat there and stared at the note, running all sorts of scenarios through my head; even some completely outlandish fantasies. I couldn't, for the life of me, make any sense of this. The other elephant in the room was that I had to start work at 04.30 am.

If I met Jess tonight, I would be in trouble at work. The issue, of course, was never in doubt and at 01:00 am, I was sitting in the soft lounge chair waiting for her.

She strode around the corner in jeans and a tank top.

"Hi, Tom. Come on, let's go. I don't want to feed the rumor mill here."

I got up and followed her out. We only crossed the main drag to a small coffee shop. As we slid into a corner booth-- I always sit so I can see the door-- I noticed a couple of guys staring at her.

"So, can I ask why we're here?"

She looked at me. And I saw the confidence that she had seemed to possess while in her working environment start to wain.

"I have been waiting for you to speak to me." She said, sheepishly. "So that I could slap you down like the others."

"Oh, thank you." I said, my anger starting to rise. "So, this is set-up then."

"No! No, please don't get upset." She replied hastily. "It's a joke. I was only joking."

"Ok, so tell me then. I've not seen you before today, but you seem to know about me, my name." I questioned in a not too friendly voice.

"I noticed you when you arrived," She said. "It was just before I went home.

"You looked different. The way you walk, the way you carry yourself, the way you are with the clients, you are different, and it caught my attention. All the time I was away, I wondered about you. No one has ever had this effect on me before, and it worried me a bit. Anyway, when I got back, I asked about you. Everybody I asked loves you, but they also commented on your shyness."

Bugger, I thought I was doing a decent job of just being the grey man, but it seems not. She was still speaking, "So when I saw you this evening, I thought this might be my only chance. I was worried about scaring you away. I know how the other staff talks about me."

I just stared. She looked shyly at me, and we sat in silence. It looked like she was going to leave, so I managed to blurt out, "Don't go, please. I'm just completely dumbstruck. You see, I'm hopeless at dating, always have been. Oh, it's great once I get going into a relationship, but meeting girls for me has always been an issue. And I have never ever met anyone as beautiful as you are, and when you came over to me in the bar, I froze like I always do. So, there you are, I suppose you never want to see me again, now."

She looked at me for what seemed like hours, and then said, smiling, "Thank you for telling me that." Then she reached over and took my hand. I was amazed. She stood up, pulling me after her. And I followed her; I'd follow her anywhere.

We stood in the warm palm springs night, the moon was shining and full, it's light reflecting on the water like a ball of light, rippling as the waves rippled.

She spoke softly to me, "I am not like other women. I do not give up, and I do want to see you again." With that, she put her arms around me.

The problem with a perfect life.

The next day at work, I was like a zombie. Harlon noticed straight away.

"Christ, boy, what did you do last night? You look like you spent the night fuckin' a raccoon pit."

"Leave it, Harlon."

"Well, ok, but you better get your shit together afore Floyd gets here, or he is gonna beat your ass."

I smiled wryly. Floyd was a big guy, but I had dealt with big guys before. As it happened when Floyd turned up, he took one look at me and sent me home, saying, "You look like shit, boy. Go sleep it off, or we'll all be infected by your limey ass."

He was trying to goad me, but I was just too tired.

I went to my apartment, and I think I was asleep before I hit the pillow.

I sat straight up in bed when I became aware of someone knocking on the door.

"What the hell." I stumbled out of bed. The evening light flickered through the windows of the room, and I realized I had slept for hours; I winced when the knock sounded on the front door again.

"Jess? What then? Come in." I was suddenly aware of my appearance: shorts and nothing else. Jess walked into my modest apartment. She looked at me with her head on one side. I expected her to laugh, but instead, she just smiled and said, "Get dressed, sleepyhead. We are going out."

My foggy brain produced too many questions all at once, but I resisted the urge to ask them. Jess waited in the lounge, and I reverted back to basic training, pulling on cargo pants, a polo shirt, and sneakers in the privacy of my room. I went to the bathroom and washed my face in cold water.

I walked into the lounge, and Jess was sitting in my only chair.

"Hi, Jess."

She looked at me and smiled.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"I heard you got sent home from work, and I feel guilty. It was my fault after all."

I assured her it was not, but she just smiled.

"Come on, let's go explore," she said. I steered her towards my Mustang and opened the door for her.

"I love your car."

"Thanks. I try to look after it."

The neck of her floral blouse opened slightly, allowing me a glimpse of dusky skin. I started to get hard and hoped she wouldn't notice.

We drove out towards Las Vegas until Jess told me to pull off the freeway and head for a place called Calico. I'd never heard of it but just being with Jess was enough wherever I go. As it turned out, I needn't have worried; we walked up the main street of what appeared to be an old west town, a bit run down, mind you.

Jess explained that Calico had been a silver town until the silver ran out and folk just left. I was fascinated by the old buildings, the boardwalk street, and, in the center of town, an old west-style saloon. I could hear music. I raised an eyebrow at Jess. She looked at me and grabbed my hand, "Come on, I love it here, and the food is great."

Then to my surprise, she almost dragged me through the swing doors of the saloon. I stood and stared; never in my life had I seen anything like this. Memories of every old western I had ever seen flashed through my mind. Jess looked at me with a frown on her face.

"If you don't like it, we can go," she said.

"No, No, I love it. I'm just surprised in all sorts of ways." I hastily replied.

A server came over, and I asked for a table for two. She led us to a booth in a quiet corner. We slid into the bench seat, and Jess looked at me.

"Talk," she said. I thought for a few seconds, then taking all my courage in both hands, I started.

"Jess, I confess I don't understand; you are one of the most amazing people it has been my privilege to meet. You are smart, kind, and beautiful beyond belief. You could get any man you wanted, and yet here we are.

"I just don't get why you would give even a passing glance to a bloke like me, 5000 miles from home, no real career to speak of, a crappy apartment, and a crappier old car. And there is loads you don't know about me. I have my issues, some of 'em I'm over here trying to run from."

"So? Look, I've seen you around for a while. When you came into the bar last night, you didn't just charge in and try to hit on me, which, let's be honest, is an occupational hazard for even an average-looking girl like me." She hurried on before I could interrupt.

"Despite your opinion of yourself, you are handsome. Your shyness is endearing because it is real. You exude a quiet charisma that is a rare thing. Whatever issues you have, you can tell me about them or not. But, either way, I will try to help, oh and I am tremendously attracted to you so there." She finished with a giggle.

I sat speechlessly and astounded; no one, certainly none of the few girls I had dated, had ever said anything like this.

That night under the stars above the desert, we sat and chatted and laughed. As we drove back towards Palm Springs, we held hands in silence, my old V8 rumbling away. I pulled into the parking lot, and then it happened. We looked at each other, and slowly, hesitantly, we kissed for the first time in our short 48 hour relationship.

Her lips were as warm and soft as butter, her tongue delicately explored mine, and I wound my fingers through her mass of dark curls. Eventually, we parted and sat looking at each other. I noticed her nipples were standing proud, so hopefully, she had enjoyed the experience as much as I had.

I had to attend to a somewhat stubborn hard-on, and I beat Tom junior for the way he had behaved. I beat the absolute snot out of him twice!

Jessica's POV

I noticed this new guy at work, one of the golf pros. He seemed different from the others, not loud or brash, just always smiling and pleasant. I asked around and found out he was a Brit. I was intrigued. Coming from Costa Rica, I had never met a Brit, and I was curious. It didn't hurt that he was built not in a massive way like some guys are, but he had amazingly broad shoulders, a tight waist, and a cute butt. And that's all I really knew.

I received a message to fly home; my Papa was ill, and I was needed. My Papa is a head ranger of a wildlife park in the outskirts of San Jose. It's a good job, and he earns good money, but it's stressful.

It turned out Papa was in the hospital. He had a heart attack, not a massive one but a worrying one all the same. The next four weeks were a blur as I nursed papa when he came home. My mama fussed over him, and eventually, I flew back to Palm Springs.

I had thought about my mysterious guy on and off while I was at home, and I determined to find out more about him. I get hit on a lot because of the way I look, and I hoped that this guy would be different. I was not disappointed.

I saw him walk into the bar my first shift back. I saw him look, even stare at me and my heart fell. Surely, he's not like them, I prayed. Instead of approaching me, he went and sat at a table in the back of the bar. My heart jumped.

I grabbed Harlon when I got the chance and asked him all about the newcomer.

"Girl, he's a nice guy for a limey. I suppose he's quite lost in himself. He's a loner. Say if you're lonely, any one of us would be pleased to step up. No need to be looking at some fool limey."

It's just that attitude, that arrogance, that irritated me. I went back to the bar, and when I got a chance, I spoke to Kelly, my co-worker, and I suppose BFF.

"Oh, he's cute, very quiet, polite, just keeps to himself. I saw him on the range one morning, and girl, when you see that body move! You interested?"

I blushed; she gave me a sly look.

"You will have to go get him. He won't come after you, babe."

I snuck a look towards the table I had seen him sit at, and he was still there. Right, here goes, I thought. As I walked towards him, I honestly thought he was going to run. He fidgeted, and when I spoke to him, he stammered. Instead of finding his shyness annoying, I found it charming.

I had my own insecurity issues and could only guess how much he had had to overcome because of it. Slowly we started to talk. The more we talked, the more I liked Tom. He was painfully shy, but I wasn't going to let that stop me. I asked him to meet me after my shift, and he did.

The rest, as they say, is history. The next night I took him to Calico, one of my favorite places. And at the end of the night, we kissed and oh wow, wow wow wow. I was hooked, utterly and completely.

Tom's POV

My head was buzzing as I lay in bed, things like this just don't happen to me. Ok, I was lucky to be working in a job I loved. But beautiful women just do not walk up to me and talk to me, let alone ask me out, they do not take me to desert ghost towns, and they certainly do not kiss me.