Chapter 19: THE LUNCH…DATE?

"Well what the hell am I supposed to talk about?" he asked out loud.

"You don't have to think of a topic!" someone said. "Just don't sit there looking like a dumbass."

"Ask them what they do."

Christopher looked up. "I already know what they do."

"That's only because you're perving them." It was their word for watching people on the security camera.

Christopher blushed. "No. Ashleigh told me what they do."

"Pretend that she didn't tell you." TK was rubbing his jaw. His eye was already swelling. The guys gave him advice while he sniffed his armpits for freshness. Yeah, he was still good after his shower this morning. Someone handed him a bottle of cologne and he accepted it as if it were poison. He opened the bottle and sniffed. Not too bad. He put on a bit.

He stripped out of his fatigues and pulled on tan slacks and a white button down shirt. He felt a little less nervous after burning off his nervous energy with TK and the guys were actually giving him good advice. He guessed they knew that this was the closest thing that he'd ever had to a date.

Bruce stepped into the locker room and stared at all of his men. He didn't have to open his mouth; the party dispersed and everyone got back to their stations. He eyed Christopher and grunted.

"Take as much time as you want for lunch." Then he turned and left.

"Thanks, Sir!" Christopher called after him. He looked at the baseball cap and then placed it back in his locker. He blew out a tense breath and glanced at himself in the mirror. "Let's rock and roll."

Ashleigh, Lance and Kendra headed for the elevators to the lobby. She was only half listening to Kendra's description of morning sickness. Christ, the sound of her retching was enough to fuel her diet for the remainder of the woman's pregnancy!

"We cannot have Mexican!" Kendra exclaimed. "I can't stand the smell of meat right now."

"What?" Lance said. "You can't stand the smell of meat? Earth to Kendra; every restaurant we go to will serve meat."

Kendra rubbed her forehead. "Please, Lance, don't talk about it. Please, nobody order meat."

Lance smiled. "If you make me the baby's godfather I'll do whatever you say."

She peeked at him. "God Uncle?"

"Close enough."

Ashleigh gave her a nervous look. "You want me to tell Christopher not to order meat for lunch?"

Kendra nodded apologetically and gave her puppy dog eyes. "Or…I won't be responsible for the bad thing that might happen at the table."

Ashleigh sighed. "Fine." They reached the lobby and waited off to the side. Ashleigh wrung her hands anxiously. Lance scowled at her.

"Ash relax. What do you think? That we're going to make your friend feel—HOLY SHIT!" She turned and saw Christopher coming from the back corridor. He must have come up from the elevators that he'd used to take her to the nurse's station.

Holy shit was right. He looked AWESOME. She just stared open mouthed as he approached.

"You never said he was the size of a TREE!" Kendra whispered urgently.

Ashleigh's eyes drank in every inch of him. She'd never seen Christopher dressed in anything but workout clothes and once in fatigues. His muscles filled out his perfect body in a way that made her feel breathless. He watched her as he approached, his charcoal grey eyes, light and dark, never leaving her face.

"He makes Rick look like a toddler. His neck is as big as his head." Lance said under his breath. She resisted the urge to jab him with her elbow.

"Hi Christopher," she said with a bright smile once he reached the little group. Her heart was thumping like crazy.

He nodded shyly. "Hi Ashleigh." She made introductions and he shook each of her friend's hands. "Guys this is Christopher Jameson; Lt Christopher Jameson."

He looked amused and smiled. "Christopher will do just fine. I hope I didn't keep y'all waiting." He said in a slow country drawl. Kendra craned her neck up at him but she had a smile on her face as she did it.

"Not at all. We just got here. It's nice to finally meet you Christopher."

"Ashleigh said you're stationed in the subbasement. She said there's an entire battalion of Marines down there," Lance said.

Ashleigh blushed when Christopher glanced at her. Crap, she hoped she hadn't spilled some national secret or anything.

"I didn't quite say that…"

Christopher nodded. "It's pretty close to that." The group headed out the door and as Ashleigh looked up she realized that every single person in the lobby was staring at Christopher. Didn't people have better manners than to just stare like that?! Of course she had to consider that who wouldn't stare at a fine-ass giant of a man?

Kendra drove because her truck was big enough for a 6'5" man since her husband was an ex-football player himself. Ashleigh explained that due to her friend's 'delicate condition' she'd requested that no one eat meat. Christopher was a good sport and readily agreed.

When they got to the restaurant he politely congratulated her on her pregnancy, and as he scanned the menu he asked her what her thoughts were on bacon. Kendra nodded her consent and he ordered a BLT and a bowl of gumbo.

Lance ordered clam chowder and Kendra's eyelids began to flutter and she quickly told him no. He changed to gumbo. Ashleigh was easy; she had tuna steak and a salad. Kendra ordered the house salad. As they waited for the food to arrive Kendra looked at Christopher. Ashleigh appreciated that she looked him straight in his face; something that she hadn't even done until she'd been around him for several days.

"What's it like working for Homeland Security?" Ashleigh smiled, knowing that her friend was networking. "It's not classified or anything is it?"

He smiled crookedly. "No, not classified—at least not completely." He cleared his throat and glanced at a couple that openly watched them. "It's actually very interesting. There is a lot of traveling when we're not posted. I can't really say too much…"

Lance looked intrigued. "But you've brought down terrorists, right?"

"Right."

"But you can't say who, right?"

He shrugged good-naturedly. "Mostly drug dealers."

"Drug dealers?" Lance looked confused.

"Drugs are the biggest way that terrorism is funded, that and guns."

"Oh!" Both Kendra and Lance responded.

Something occurred to Ashleigh; Christopher would go out on missions...dangerous missions. Her smile slipped and Christopher glanced at her, his brow furrowing in brief concern before he turned his attention back to the conversation. She wondered how often he had to go out on these missions.

"Christopher," she asked hesitantly, "how long are the missions?"

"They can vary. Two months is the norm. We start with briefings and then engagement and then debriefing."

She stared at him, reality hitting home. He went out and risked his life. "How often do you get these missions?"

"Well…that varies, too. We don't know when we'll get one. It's been a while and we're kind of antsy."

"Antsy?" Lance asked.

He nodded. "We're a…physical bunch. We'd be out in the field twenty-four seven if we could. Some have wives and such and I'm sure that part is hard, but we look forward to actual engagement." Christopher glanced at Ashleigh. "I do enjoy my time in the subbasement but others start going stir crazy."

"It's dangerous," Kendra said, "but thankfully we have guys like you that put yourselves out there for our country." Ashleigh's brow furrowed.

Their food came and they ate and made easy conversation, mostly centered on Christopher, which kept him actively involved. He liked Ashleigh's friends. He didn't like that every single person in the restaurant stared at them, or whispered about them. He was happy that the rest of them ignored it. And as he talked easily with Ashleigh's friends he realized that he had no reason to be nervous. They were like her—good people.