Page 32 of Grunt: A Marine Romance

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AFTER CHECKINGIN and dropping Banjo in the hotel room, Bret and Selena pulled up to Mustards Grill in Napa. His father had often taken him here when he was a boy. It was his favorite restaurant—just good, hearty, all-American food without a hint of pretension.

The drive over had been pleasant but awkward. Sure, Selena now placed her hand on his leg while he drove and they bonded over idle talk about how much they missed each other, but they still hadn’t had the difficult conversation. Bret knew Selena had deep feelings for him. That was clear. But was he just a rebound? Could she really give up her world of celebrity for the simple life of a Marine Corps wife? Was she ready to start a family?

Bret was determined to find out.

“Bret, I love this place. So rustic. What are you having?”

“The calamari and the hangar steak. And a beer. You?”

Selena perused the menu. “A burger sounds good. I’ll have the mushroom and spinach burger.”

Bret laughed. “You realize that’s not actually a burger right? It’s made out of vegetables.”

“Oh I know. I just haven’t eaten meat in, like, five years.”

Bret sighed. A vision of future family dinners made with tofu and tempeh flashed before him. Bret loved to barbeque chicken, ribs, hot dogs, and burgers with his buddies. But he’d be happy to throw some zucchini on the grill to make her happy.

A cute waitress stopped by the table and took their order. She raised an eyebrow when she saw Selena but if she recognized her, she didn’t let on.

They held hands across the table and made plans for the weekend. Bret wanted to take a long bike ride the next morning. Selena wanted to book a couples massage in the afternoon, which Bret agreed to as long as he had a female masseuse. He didn’t want some dude rubbing his hands all over him.

The waitress delivered the calamari and Selena’s salad, with dressing on the side.

Bret pierced a crunchy calamari ring with his fork. He watched as Selena dipped her fork first into the dressing and then scooped up a piece of lettuce.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, it’s a diet trick Vika taught me. Instead of pouring the dressing on your salad, you just dip your fork before every bite.”

Bret shook his head. “You realize how weird you are, right? You weigh barely a buck and you don’t have an ounce of fat on your body. How is a little dressing going to hurt you?”

Selena dipped her fork again in the dressing. “It’s not that simple. Everything shows in the costumes. I just want to be careful.”

“Well you aren’t dancing with Dima anymore. I think you’re too skinny. Live a little. Pour that dressing all over your salad.”

She looked up at him and smiled. She picked up the little dressing dish and saturated her salad with blue cheese. Her fork scooped up the now soppy greens and she stuffed them in her mouth. “You’re right, it tastes so much better this way.”

Bret laughed. “Okay, Selena. Seriously. Last night was incredible. And I want to make this work. Do you see us having a future?”

Selena took a long sip of her glass of water. “Well—you are stationed at Camp Pendleton, right? That’s only two hours from Los Angeles. We can live off base in Orange County. Maybe Laguna Nigel? Or Ladera Ranch? I have a friend who owns a dance studio down there so I can still teach. My students will come to me. And I can commute during the tapings.”

Bret was impressed that she’d at least already thought some logistics out.

“Ladera Ranch or Laguna Nigel? Yah, I mean the location is great because they are both close to the back gate of Pendleton and I work right there. But those places are so expensive. My housing allowance with dependents would be two thousand a month. So that could maybe work if we get married.”

Selena spit out her water. “Married—we just made love for the first time in ten years last night and you’re talking about getting married? Was that your version of some proposal?”

Bret’s lips burned, and it wasn’t from the Fresno chilies on the calamari. “No, Selena, when I propose, you’ll know it. And it sure as hell won’t be in a crowded restaurant. But let’s cut the crap. Marriage is where this is heading, right? You didn’t just ruin your career to have a one-night stand with me, did you? You want kids and a family. I didn’t just pick you up last night at a bar. We have a past. And hopefully a future. Plus, I’m a Marine. If we aren’t married, you won’t get any benefits, and you’ll have a hard time getting on base or being involved with the community of wives. I’m a Staff Sergeant. If we stay together, I’m going to need you to help the younger wives of the men in my unit when I deploy. That will be part of your duty as my wife.”

Selena’s fork pushed around the lettuce on her plate. “Sorry, Bret, I didn’t mean that. I’m just so overwhelmed. Please forgive me. Of course, I’d love to eventually get married and start a life with you. I’m just really worried about the tabloids. They’re going to have a field day with this story. They’ll paint me as a vixen in some weird twisted love triangle.” She paused and her lips parted. She shook her head as if she changed her mind as to what she was going to say. “Who knows what other lies they’ll make up?”

Bret wondered what she had wanted to say and if she was hiding something from him. But he kept his concerns to himself.

Selena continued. “It will be awful. I just know it. And I don’t want to scare you away.”

Bret’s eyes blinked. She was right—everything she said. What had he been thinking? Being on the show was one thing. He’d agreed to do it for his friend. Being a tabloid kicking toy was another. His mind raced. This could ruin his career. His ex, Jessica, used to read those magazines all the time. Would they interview his friends, family, his ex? Would they twist his motive to going on this show as a devious attempt to get Selena back?