Collide Into You: A Romantic Gender Swap Love Story (8 page)

In short, Keira is the exact opposite of what I’ve come to expect women to look like when going out. This isn’t necessarily a good or bad thing, just an observation. Strange how it took just one conversation with Keira to make me realize this.

She gives me a quizzical look that says,
Stop dallying, we need to go
. And my response is, “I’m sort of expecting you to lead the way. I have no idea of where we are meeting your coworkers at.”

“Yeah,” she starts in a way that gives me the impression I won’t be happy to hear where we’re going. “About that. I’m supposed to tell you not to discuss, with anyone, living or dead, where we end up tonight.”

“That makes no sense whatsoever.”

“Just go with it, Dillan. I know. It’s apparently a
secret
bowling location. I couldn’t quite get all the details from Nebraska—that’s his nickname, his real name is Sean Walker—about the bowling alley’s real location.”

“Are they going to blindfold us or something? Are they intelligence analysts, too? Is this some sort of intel game?”

“One question at a time, please. I feel fairly certain that I can speak for all intelligence analysts out there and state that no, this is not some sort of intel game. These guys are not intel types. Their backgrounds are in infantry and armor—guns, weapons, stuff like that.”

I give her a crazy look as I lock up the apartment. “And this is supposed to reassure me?”
 

She laughs. “I’ll admit it sounds…unorthodox, but the way they described it, it should be a lot of fun.”

“So, once we get there, I cannot tell anyone where this amazing, secret bowling alley is? Because whoever owns the bowling alley isn’t interested in new customers or making money?” I hope she’s getting the sardonic tone in my voice. “Are you sure this isn’t a black market for organ harvesting?”

“I’ve told you everything I know,” Keira says, laughing as I throw her own joke back at her.

“Not
everything
,” I quip. A small blush spreads across her cheeks. I know she isn’t exactly an innocent. At twenty-seven, she would have had a boyfriend or two. I don’t recall Jon ever talking about Keira having a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have one. Just meant she probably didn’t discuss it with her brother.

Did I want to know her numbers?
Honestly, Dillan.
There’s no way she could come close to my total number of sexual partners, and I’m not such a pig that I’d disapprove whatever her number happened to be. I’ve always hated how guys’ sexual conquests were celebrated whereas those of the opposite sex were generally frowned upon, or they were downright called sluts or whores. It’s not like women were having sex by themselves. Still, I wasn’t completely honest with her a few minutes ago. She’d freak out if I told her my actual number was closer to the forty or fifty range.

As we make our way outside the apartment building and walk to the corner of Constitution and 9th, which is where her friends are picking us up, I find that as I walk in silence beside Keira, it’s a nice feeling. I don’t feel compelled to fill the space with idle chitchat or unimportant conversation, but I do want to know who I’d be meeting tonight.

Once we hit Constitution, I watch as Keira’s eyes follow everyone who runs by us, and I wonder if she’d rather be running right now instead hanging out with me. On the other hand, it was her choice to ask me to tag along. Maybe she’s wondering if
I’d
rather be doing something else instead of spending the night beating her at bowling.

“Who’s picking us up?” I ask.

“Yeah, about that…” She trails off again. I get the feeling this is going to be a pattern tonight. “Nebraska mentioned other names, but I don’t remember them. And Sergeant Hauten’s significant other might be there. I’m not sure if his S.O. is a man or woman.”

“That won’t bother us,” I add.

“Exactly. In fact, I only got the invitation after I talked a little bit about Jon and Tanner. Gives me the impression that Hauten—Justin—knows I’d be cool if he happened to be gay. Plus, he’s very attractive, but he’s obviously taken, so it doesn’t really matter to me one way or the other.”

Sergeant Justin Hauten, I pray to God that you’re gay.
I didn’t like the idea of Keira finding another man attractive if said man was straight. Good lord, Dillan.
Get. Over. Yourself.
I find Keira attractive, but that doesn’t mean I don’t find other women attractive, too.

“What kind of car should we be on the lookout for?”

Keira laughs. “Nebraska said it would be a gray minivan. The guy’s a big guy, but unless one of them has kids, a minivan seemed a bit on the domesticated side. Actually, I’m very curious about tonight. Nebraska had me laughing so much that my side hurt after a few minutes.”

“Sounds like you’re going to be working with a fun group.” I think about how I’ll be working solo on the Joy Fromm case. Not much to get excited about.

“I think I see them,” Keira announces, then waves at a gray minivan. It pulls up to the curb and a beefy man with red hair jumps out. He’s at least four or five inches taller than me.

“Keira!” he booms before folding her into a hug. It startles her as much as it surprises me.
Is this Sergeant Hauten?
Is this the type of guy she’s attracted to? He releases her quickly and then reaches for me, an arm outstretched. Instead of shaking my hand, he pulls me into a hug as well. “You must me Keira’s boyfriend,” he says, pushing away, his hands still on my shoulders, assessing them. “Solid. Well built.” He turns me around, inspecting me. Introducing himself appears to be an afterthought. “I’m Nebraska. Nice arms. You’re on my team.”

“Ah,” I stammer. Perhaps I could start by correcting him on the
Keira’s boyfriend
part, but there’s just too much to choose from and I’m all topsy-turvy after his man-assessment. I would also be lying if I didn’t admit that I liked the fact that he complimented my arms. It’s always nice to be appreciated, even by men I’ve never met before.

Keira’s already inside the minivan talking to someone else as Nebraska gestures to the sliding door. “Got to get going, buddy. Cops don’t exactly like curb hopping around here. Plus, I’m pretty sure they’ve tagged the car. We’ll have to ditch it soon for another one.”

“Tonight?” I ask. Jesus, who the hell is this man? Ditching cars. Assessing men for bowling teams.

“Naw,” he says as I step into the minivan. “I’d say we’ve got a few more days with this piece of shit.” He slides in next to me, effectively moving me down the bench seat with zero effort on my part. My left side is crushed up against a car seat. And there’s a baby in it.
 

“Let’s go, Julia,” Nebraska says, thumping his hand against the roof of the car. The minivan pulls out into traffic as Nebraska makes the introductions. “Julia’s driving, you already know Keira in the passenger seat, you lucky dog, Justin and Aaron are in the back row, and this precious little girl,” he reaches over and gently pets the baby’s golden hair, “is Ruby. She’s my Ruby-Doll.” Ruby, who happens to be asleep, can’t be more than a few months old.

I turn around to acknowledge the men, who sit close together, and the man on the left has his arm outstretched on the seat behind the other.
Definitely a couple.
And gorgeous as hell. Not that I notice those kinds of things, but damn, they gave Jon and Tanner a run for the money in the looks department.

“I’m Justin,” the man on the left says, leaning forward slightly. “Nice to meet you.”

“Aaron,” the other says. We shake hands. Aaron is clean shaven while Justin sports a five-o’clock shadow. “Hope you don’t get car sick.”

“Normally, no. But…” I laugh as my stomach does a tiny somersault after the minivan makes a sharp turn. Facing forward, I try to get a good look at Julia. I can’t see much, except that she has blonde hair.

There’s nothing for me to do but ask the most obvious question possible. “So, whose team is Ruby on?” I ask.

Nebraska, who’s still leaning over me and cooing at the baby, straightens up and slaps me on the back, as if I just earned a kudos point from him. “I like your boyfriend, Keira,” he says.

Keira

J
ULIA
TURNS
THE
MINIVAN
ONTO
Virginia Avenue, and after a few minutes, she turns west on Canal Road and drives along the Potomac River for a few miles. She’s a quiet driver, and other than a few words and questions about my liking Washington, DC, and learning that she’s Ruby’s mom, I mostly listen to the men in the back.

When I first turned around to say hi to Justin and Aaron, I found it difficult not to gape at them. Justin, with a gruff, five-o’clock shadow and brooding eyes, is an attractive specimen, but he is nothing compared to Aaron. Holy crap that man, with his jet black hair, clean, chiseled jaw, and lean build, could have me panting if I didn’t know instantly he and Justin are a couple. They weren’t overt about it, but I can tell from their body language. And if that isn’t proof enough, the matching black bands on their ring fingers certainly gives it away.

I let Dillan deal with the
Keira’s boyfriend
flap. I found that it didn’t irk me when he didn’t correct Nebraska after he said it a second time. Truth is, I really don’t care what others think of me. Not really. I’m not seeking their approval. After tonight, if they never want to see me again, I’ll be okay with it.

Probably.

Okay, maybe not. I always found it difficult to make fast and steady friends. It isn’t that I’m not lovable. I’ve had several boyfriends over the years. None that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. They were tolerable for a while. Until the next move or deployment or some other Army-related reason to move on. I rarely date military men. When I come home at night, I don’t want to talk about the Army or the war in Afghanistan or the latest Presidential policy that affected the troops.
 

I want to go to ball games and watch reality TV and talk about books. I want someone to run with me, and not only that, but to
keep up
with me when we run. It almost doesn’t matter what he looks like.

I never expected to find myself in a minivan filled with a motley crew headed to a secret location to go bowling. A motley crew and a baby named Ruby-Doll.

You could do with a bit of disorder, Keira.

If this isn’t disorder, I don’t know what is.

Julia pulls the minivan over on the side of the road, parks, and flashes her hazards.

“Is something wrong with the car?” I ask.

“I thought you said we weren’t ditching the car tonight, Nebraska.” Dillan says. Is there panic in his voice?

Nebraska laughs. “Just waiting for traffic to clear before we turn down the road.”

There’s plenty of daylight left and I can see traffic going both east and west. I don’t see any other roads to turn down.

I hear Justin sigh in the back of the car. As I remember it, he wasn’t overjoyed at the prospect of Nebraska’s choice tonight. Other than the huge secrecy of it all, I’m beginning to see how Nebraska could be something of a liability, both legally and in terms of someone’s sanity.

“Once we stayed parked here for an hour before traffic cleared,” Aaron says. His statement doesn’t help matters.

“How many times have you come here?” I ask.

“Just the once,” Justin answers dryly.

“I was still pregnant then,” Julia adds. “I peed on the side of the road at least four times. I wasn’t happy about that and felt the urge to shoot anyone who looked my way. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that this time.”

Shoot?
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what her profession is, but Nebraska claps his hands as loud as a male cheerleader. “Eastbound is clear,” he says eagerly. I swear he sounds like a ten year old as he says it.

“Westbound has two cars,” I say. “If that holds, I suspect you can turn down this mysterious non-visible road.”

Julia throws me a grin that tells me she’s both amused and annoyed with the situation. I assume that this is why she’s the driver. At least she has a little bit of control.
 

“I guess I don’t understand why we have to wait,” Dillan says. “I mean, who notices it when someone turns down a side road?”

“People notice it when the road isn’t supposed to exist,” Nebraska says.

“The cars have passed, Julia,” Aaron says.

 
Without warning, Julia flings the car into drive. My head spins. Gravel spits out from the back of the minivan as she completes a U-turn, heads eastbound for a split second, and then immediately turns right. Into the trees. In the direction of the Potomac River.

“Um… I don’t see a road,” I start, but other than letting out a scream, I’m somewhat mute as she drives at the trees. I’m taking my cues from the others. Chancing a glance at Dillan, I almost laugh at how big his eyes are, but I’m sure mine are just as alert. When I face forward, the trees loom straight ahead and I throw my hands onto the dash.
 

Just before the first tree, Julia shifts the car at an angle and drives between two tall trees, barely missing each one on either side of the minivan. She never once hit the brakes. Who
are
these people? I’ve been working in the intelligence community for almost a decade and I have never encountered anything like this before now.

Daylight fades as we enter the canopy of the woods. The tires crunch on gravel, so there’s some sort of man-made road here. Any second now, we’re going to plunge into the Potomac River.

Dear Jon
, I internalize my farewell note to my brother,
Sorry for getting into a minivan full of strangers just as they were about to commit vehicle-borne suicide. Love, your baby sister, Keira, aka, Sergeant Stupid.

After a tense minute of rewording “my last goodbyes,” I see a gray building rise up between the tall pine trees. Okay, so maybe we aren’t about to take a bath in the Potomac.

The building is institutional-looking and it gives me the creeps. I imagine ghosts loitering inside its walls. As we pull up in front of it, I see a dozen other cars parked there as well. Perhaps this place is a secret, but others certainly know about it.