SPARKS

Chapter Seven

Hazel and Mike finished up at around four. They sent the last one out the doors and then started packing everything up. After Quade had left, she'd forced herself to calm down, act like everything was alright, and focus on the others. It had been hard, though. So many questions had been racing through her mind, but she'd ignored them. She'd had work to do.

But now she didn't have work to distract herself with. Now her mind was free to wander and think about him. Only him. Quade Darst. It was almost like an obsession she had with him. She'd been preparing so long for what she would say to him about Joey, and she felt she was finally ready.

As she and Mike walked out with all their equipment, Hazel couldn't help but wonder if Quade was still here. Usually, they didn't give fitness evals to drill instructors if they were still training a platoon. The active drill instructors just simply wouldn't have enough time. She'd heard so many horror stories about how much sleep they got each night and how there weren't enough hours in the day to get all their work done.

Her wandering mind came to a screeching halt as soon as they stepped foot inside the lobby area. Quade Darst was sitting in a chair over in the far corner. He was flipping through the pages of the newspaper. Flowers were on the seat next to him. He turned to look at her and Mike. His eyes widened as soon as they landed on her, and then he stood up abruptly, almost dropping the paper on the floor in the process.

He folded it, set it down, picked up his hat and the flowers, and then walked over to them.

He looked different from this morning. Instead of his workout clothes, he wore pressed, dark green pants and a short-sleeved khaki shirt that showed his powerful forearms. A polished belt and shiny shoes completed the look. He looked clean. Cut. Ready.

Hazel didn't know what to say. Quade was standing right in front her, and she didn't know what to say. She could feel Mike's gaze on her. From beside her, he cleared his throat and reached for the equipment she carried.

"Here. Gimme those." Mike took her bags. "I'll be waiting in the van. Nice to see you again, Gunnery Sergeant Darst."

Quade nodded before turning to her, those pale eyes never straying from her own. "Hi."

"Hi."

"I got these." He held the flowers out to her. "For you. I wasn't sure which were your favorite, so I just got...all of them."

Hazel accepted the flowers. He wasn't kidding when he'd said he'd gotten "all of them." There was such a vast variety and array of different, contrasting colors. It was one of the most stunning bouquets she'd ever seen. She thought back to that night when he talked about his grandparents. Was he thinking about it, too?

"Thank you," she said, inhaling the sweet scent. "They're beautiful."

"Well, beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady."

"Oh, I..." She felt her face heat up. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He cleared his throat but didn't look away from her. "I was wondering, if maybe, you'd like to go out to supper with me sometime. You know, to catch up."

"Quade, I-" Joey's face was once again in her mind. He'd be waiting for her at the preschool, excited to bring Lucky to the park. "I need to tell you something."

"Okay." He smiled. "What is it?"

"I think we should sit down first."

"We could sit down over supper," he suggested.

"Yes, true, but I need to tell you now, Quade." She looked him straight in the eye and said, "I have a son, Joseph. He's going to be three in march."

His face remained the same. But she saw in his eyes as he figured it out. They'd met three years ago in June. March was nine months away from June. Joseph was his middle name. It didn't take a genius to figure out. And certainly, somebody like Quade, would have it figured out in seconds.

But Quade just looked like he was going to fall. He basically fell down in the chair closest to him, holding his head in his hands. His hat almost fell to the floor, but he caught it. She sat down beside him, awkwardly holding the flowers.

"I tried contacting you, but I couldn't get a hold of you. I'm sorry you had to find out like this."
"I lost my phone at the airport. I'd called Silas, but it was so early in the morning. And then they flew me down to San Diego to help train some drill instructors, because one of the instructors broke his leg. And I didn't have your number memorized, because I- and I'm just..." He raked his blunt fingernails across the back of his neck, looking up at her. "He's mine?"

"Yes."

"Can I meet him?"

She couldn't help but smile. "Yes, of course."