Top Golf

by LadyLanera

Summary:

For years now, Jake has been able to get out of the Admirals' Invitational. That was until this year when it's finally his turn to join Cyclone on the golf course to win the highly coveted trophy. There's just one problem: Jake is terrible at golf.

Notes:

Hello, all.

So this fic is inspired by this post on Tumblr. I was tagged in it by another Tumblr user and absolutely fell in love with the whole concept. I tried to keep the fic lighthearted with a dash of angst sprinkled in.

Enjoy.

Chapter 1: Par 1

---

A month left into his mandatory four-month medical leave, it happened. Jake knew the damn thing was coming, of course. He always did. It was like clockwork. Every time the stupid invite came around, he’d find himself dreading it, only later to be absolutely relieved when his baby brother fell onto his sword and took Jake’s place instead, thereby letting Jake off the hook for another year.

However, this year, Ethan couldn’t go, and Jake damn well knew it, too.

So, there he sat, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the unopened envelope.

Well, five years was a great streak, he supposed. All good things came to an end eventually.

Since he was still healing from injuries sustained on his last mission, he chose to stay at his dad’s house for his leave. And while that had worked out pretty well for the past few months, save for one unfortunate time, it gave him no place to hide from the question he knew was coming any day now.

“Hey, J,” Ethan announced unexpectedly, stepping inside Jake’s room without glancing up from where he had his nose buried in his phone. “Dad says dinner’ll be ready in a few.” When Jake didn’t respond, his brother finally lifted his gaze and glanced at him curiously. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

He held up the invite so his little brother could see the familiar envelope.

“Oh, man. Yikes,” his brother said with a grimace. “That’s rough, man. Sorry.”

“Are you absolutely positive you can’t stick around for it?”

“Positive.” The teen did sigh, however, in obvious understanding. “Look, it’ll be boring as hell. Always is. And, fair warning, Dad gets super competitive. Like, it’ll be to the point where you’ll want to strangle him at times, J. I know I always have when I went. But you have to keep in mind that his frequent critiques and all that other crap of his are just cause all the head blowhards start in on Dad about stupid things, making Dad in turn decide to want to whoop their asses to shut them up.”

“He’s competitive?”

“Oh, for sure. He gets rather, well, crazy about it actually.” At Jake’s horrified look, Ethan hastily tacked on, “But, J, seriously, man, you won’t have to worry about any of that.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re amazing at everything,” his little brother declared second naturedly. “I’d bet you’ll be even better at it than our old man is. Plus, Dad—he’s been crowing for weeks now about how this is gonna be his year since you’ll be going instead of me finally. Even he knows you’ll be great.”

Jake’s stomach started to roll in trepidation. Fuck!

“In fact, I caught him the other day even cleaning off a spot for the trophy you’ll win.”

“There’s a trophy?” he croaked. Just when he didn’t think it could get worse, it had.

He hadn’t known there was a trophy.

“Yeah. Course it’s ugly as hell, but there’s some sort of lore thing behind it that Dad enjoys more. He’ll explain it all to you during practice. Trust me.”

“Hang on. We have to practice?” This wouldn’t just be like a one-and-done thing?

“Uh, yeah, duh. Did you miss the part when I said he’s competitive as fuck about this stupid thing? He’ll probably set up a time in a week or so. He always did when it was us at least. Don’t worry about the first practice, though. He just does that torture session to see where you need work.”

Jake forced a smile and nodded numbly.

Yep, he was screwed. Because where he needed work was everywhere.

You see, dear reader, Jacob Patrick Simpson sucked at golf. Like, truly was the absolute worst ever to play. And that was no hyperbole either. He was terrible at it.

It was one of the few things he could never get the hang of no matter what he tried.

And, God, had he tried to get good at it after Justin’s passing. He really had.

Nothing worked, though.

He only ever got worse, which would only enrage JJ Seresin further in the past before the bastard would eventually throw his hands up in the air in surrender and snap nastily yet again to Jake how it should have been Jake who died in the car accident, not Justin.

As if Jake hadn’t ever thought the same thing on his roughest of nights.

Well, it was nice being part of a loving family while it lasted, he supposed.

He’d sure miss them.

---

Two days later, Jake surprisingly still hadn’t heard anything about the golf invitational from his dad directly. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t heard his dad talk to Warlock about it. Because he had.

A lot.

In fact, almost every single time Jake attempted to pull his dad aside privately to tell him the truth about his golf skills so that they could rip the proverbial Band-Aid off, he’d catch bits and pieces of yet another conversation from his dad to someone telling them all about how excited he was to be golfing with Jake this year instead of Ethan.

As if Jake and him golfing together would end up being something to be proud of instead of most likely to cause the vein in his dad’s head to pop violently.

That was why Jake decided to bite the bullet and sign up for lessons as soon as he could. He figured it couldn’t hurt anything. The more practice he got in before his first tee time with his dad had to be better than him going in unprepared. He soon realized it could hurt to practice, though.

He lasted only ten minutes into his lesson before his infuriated veteran golf instructor declared Jake utterly hopeless prior to kicking Jake out with the understanding that he was never to return.

Undeterred by that unfortunate blow to his ego, he sent Bradley a text earlier, asking if they could meet up for a date night. Bradley could always take Jake’s mind off of anything. It took Bradshaw all of two seconds to agree.

Which was how Jake found himself at a random mini-golf place on a Friday night instead of the Hard Deck as per usual. He hadn’t wanted to bring Bradley here initially, he’d admit, but he figured he was safe to share his long kept secret to the man he promised his heart to all those years prior.

It’d just be a trial run for the whole ‘For better or worse’ later on.

“You want to play to see who goes first or—”

“Nah, you can,” Jake offered with a small smile that he hoped Bradley wouldn’t see right through. “I don’t mind following you.”

“Oh, really?” replied the cocky dick he loved with a quiet laugh. “Because I happen to remember you used to give me all sorts of grief when I even suggested it before.”

Jake waved his words away, hanging onto his good mood. “Eh, that was before I fell for you and your ridiculous mustache, fair fowl of mine. Now, I’m lost in your beauty.”

“Oh, how silly of me.” Bradley stepped up to the first hole that featured an incline they had to get their colorful balls up onto without incident. Seemed easy enough in theory.

Observing him closely, Jake watched Bradley tap the ball with enough force to get it to hurl up the steep hill and come to a rest a few centimeters from the hole. Huh. Who would have known Bradley was good at this whole thing? Maybe Bradshaw could teach him, and it’d all stick.

“Nice shot.”

“Thanks,” beamed Bradley before he gently tapped his blue ball again into the hole. “Ice and Mav used to take me to these places most Friday nights growing up. It was all to make sure Mom took a break here and there. After she . . .” Bradley’s voice came to an abrupt stop before he cleared his throat and worked his jaw for a moment while he got his emotions back under control. “Anyway, they kept it up to try to give me as close to a normal childhood as they could, despite everything. It’s actually why I was so surprised when you suggested it last night. Thought you might have talked to Mav behind my back or something.” He was watching Jake closely as if searching for something.

Jake shook his head, though. “No, sorry. It’s completely coincidental this time.”

He, of course, had been dying to talk to Maverick again since their brief discussion in sick bay after last mission. To ask for Mav’s opinion on the ring Jake had picked out to propose to Bradley. He just never could find the time to get away for any of that.

Sighing, he let his shoulders slump for half a second in resignation. The rare anxiety started to build inside. If he said nothing and Bradley found out, it could go either way how Bradley would react. His hothead would either lose his cool yet again or he’d be hurt over the display of lack of trust.

“Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you ever have to go to the Admirals’ Invitational growing up?” If anyone knew about it, it’d be Bradley, considering all the infamous uncles in and out of his life growing up. He was practically raised by all of Navy royalty from what Jake knew.

“No. Sorry.”

Well, shit. He had thought the Iceman would have asked Bradley at some point in his career.

“I know Ice went occasionally, but he never asked me. I think he asked his kids later on, though.” Bradley leaned casually onto his putter. “Why? Are you going with your dad this year?”

Jake shrugged in a manner similar to his teenage brother. He tried not to think about that too much. “I think so.” He didn’t really figure he’d have a choice if he were honest. His dad all but had screamed from the rooftops that they were golfing together already. “He hasn’t come out and asked yet,” he semi-rambled, “but I got an invite at least to it again.”

He had gotten an invite nearly every year since this crazy family adopted him.

Trying to replicate how Bradley had been standing earlier when he had took his shot, Jake gave himself plenty of space and plenty of time so no unfortunate accidents would occur. His feathery love had made golfing look so damn easy. Letting his putter swing back and forth a few times in practice of his swing, he eventually whacked the ball with a silent prayer.

His green ball sailed through the air for a moment before it hit the windmill on a neighboring hole and bounced back at them rapidly.

They ducked at the hurtling, uncontrollable golf ball to escape its unforgiving path.

Two seconds later, they heard the recognizable sound of glass shattering behind them.

Jake groaned immediately. He almost didn’t want to look and see what the ball had hit. However, he did, sighing when he saw the cracked window on the small building where they had retrieved their golf balls and putters earlier.

Wonderful. Yet another thing to take out of his paycheck.

However, the high school-aged boy they rented the items from earlier shrugged and motioned them to continue on without a word about the destruction of property. He clearly didn't care.

“We’ll just call that a Mulligan,” Bradley offered after they retrieved Jake’s ball. “Try again.”

“Bradley—”

“Nah, it’s fine. Really. I can wait for you to beat me.”

Jake swallowed down a sigh and stepped back to where he had stood earlier, placing his ball on the faux green carpet again. He had hit it too hard. He recognized that now. So, he’d have to hit it softer this time to make sure no more windows were broken. He swung his putter to and fro for a few moments before he gently tapped his ball. It went all of two centimeters before it rolled to a complete stop.

“You know you don’t have to go easy on me, right?” Bradley drawled with a light snort. “You beat me plenty of times before we were dating. So, I can take losing to you again and won’t fly off the handle now that we’re back together. Honest.”

If only that was what was happening here. He chose to redirect, though, out of self-preservation.

“And here I thought you’d want me to be my usual Southerly gentleman self instead, darlin.”

“Nah, I’m pretty used to your cocky, know-it-all asshole Austin self by now,” retorted Bradley.

Jake chuckled before he concentrated back on his ball.

Calculating the angle needed to drop a bomb onto a target the size of a refrigerator to destroy it while flying at high altitude and speed, he could do that in his sleep.

Factor in all the variables so as not to hit the eight ball in a game pool, piece of cake.

Seeing the angles here that could be used to hit his ball into the hole, he could do that as well.

And, logically, he knew that everything here relied on calculating the amount of force needed, angles used, speed, wind direction, etc. This should have all been easy at this point.

Closing his eyes again as he said another prayer that he didn’t further embarrass himself, he smacked the putter against the ball, feeling the hard ground as he hit the unforgiving carpet as well.

Sure enough, his ball bounced high up into the air before it came crashing down and bouncing once more prior to hitting Bradley in the face.

Jake let go of his putter as a result, tripping over it in his haste to scramble and reach Bradley. They both fell hard onto the ground.

“Fuck! Are you okay?” he asked, trying to see how badly hurt the unfortunate love of his life was. “Talk to me here. How bad are you hurt? Bradley, say something, damn it!”

Bradley, however, kept his face buried into Jake’s chest. It was a few seconds before Jake realized that the shaking he felt from Bradley wasn’t from tears but from silent laughter instead.

“It’s not funny, dickhead!” he groused. He thought he killed the idiot.

Bradley, however, lifted his head a second later, revealing the start of a dark bruise purpling around his eye. The dumbass was still smiling and laughing, though. Crazy as his damn Pops was.

“I can’t believe it,” the big, dumb chicken declared loudly. Jake would be lucky if they hadn’t heard Bradley in Guam with how loud he was being. “Of all the things . . . wow! I finally found the one thing you’re horrible at. No, wait, not just horrible. You positively suck at it.”

Jake bristled at the words, knowing deep down that the big, dumb fool didn’t mean his words in a hurtful way. Just, finally, after years of being great at everything Jake tried his hand at, Bradley finally learned of the one thing he could beat Jake at and had to gloat about it.

“Come on, Bradshaw. Let’s get you home and take care of that shiner of yours,” he muttered.

---

Trudging into his dad’s house a few hours later, Jake was quick to remove his shoes and place them neatly on the boot tray. He tossed his keys into the homemade bowl Ethan had made for school long ago. His mind was replaying Bradley’s laughter in his head, which soured his mood even further.

“Ah, there you are, Jacob.”

It took everything inside not to jump out of his skin at the sound of his dad’s voice appearing out of practically nowhere. Jesus, the old man needed a bell around his neck.

“Did your date go well?”

“Uh . . . yeah, I guess so. Why?” What the hell was he supposed to say to that? Uh, no, you see, I accidentally hit a ball into his face and gave him a hell of a shiner that makes it look like I beat him?

His dad smiled. “Easy. I’m merely ensuring I don’t need to speak with your young man.”

“You do know I’m thirty-one, right, old man?” he asked with a quiet laugh. It was sweet, though.

“Yes, Jacob, I’m aware, but as your dad, my number one responsibility is to protect you from harm and foster a safe and loving environment for you to thrive in. I do not shirk from those duties, regardless of your age, any more than I do as your commanding officer.”

“In other words, Dad’s wondering, like I am for the record, why you’re home early from your date, J,” Ethan called out from the couch where he was lounging out while playing Xbox.

“Oh. Well, that’s cause we ran out of condoms, E-man,” Jake deadpanned, chuckling when he heard his brother fall off the side of the couch in shock. Served the little brat right.

“I swear you two fools will be the death of me,” muttered their dad before he turned away.

“Not Captain Mitchell?”

“He surprisingly has been better lately.”

“Well, you know what they say,” he remarked with a wide grin, continuing to tease. “It’s when it starts to get too quiet that you should worry, Dad.”

“Hmm. I’ve always found it to be the exact opposite. It’s when you two are loud and boisterous that I find myself worrying more these days.” Oof. That almost hurt. “Now, tell me. Did you at least eat dinner before you two parted or did that slip your likely otherwise occupied minds?”

Once since his leave started, his dad accidentally found Bradley in his bed, and suddenly, they were having sex all the time in the house according to his dad. Despite how it looked, they hadn’t that night. Bradley just stayed over to sleep beside him because he was too tired to drive home safely.

“I mean, if you’re offering, I could eat,” Jake answered, imitating his younger brother’s usual reply and typical teenage flippant shrug that he knew drove his dad insane.

Being back home and settling into their easy rapport always soothed him inside. Maybe it was because his dad always made him feel wanted, cared for in ways JJ Seresin never did.

Or maybe it was because he knew this house was a loving home.

Honestly, he could almost forget about the dreaded invite that was keeping him up at night.

He followed his dad into the kitchen, smelling the faint aroma of dinner that had already been put away earlier in the evening.

“Pizza?” he asked, trying to place the scent.

“Ravioli.”

“Awesome. Love when you make that.”

His dad always cooked such wonderful homemade meals for them. At first, Jake hadn’t known how to take all the cooking, having been used to seeing his biological mother cooking all the meals and worrying how the monster of the house would torture them that night during mealtime. Sure, Jake knew Cyclone was a bit of a stress cooker, but, well, honestly so was Jake. There was something calming about preparing food and bringing it all together for the final product later on.

Walking to the cabinet, Jake retrieved a porcelain bowl while his dad heated up some of the leftovers for him in the meantime.

“While you’re here for the moment,” commented Cyclone in a rare hesitant tone, “perhaps you and I could discuss the Admirals’ Invitational invite you received the other day?”

Jake stiffened immediately. His fingers curled around the bowl tightly to the point it almost hurt to hold onto it. His dad was doing this now? Tonight?

Setting the bowl down onto the counter a moment later, Jake turned away, shoving a clumsy hand into his right pocket where his phone was. Yep, nope, he couldn’t do this now. Like most his age, he hadn’t had a ringtone since he was a freshman in high school and had to pay for ringtones and each text message, which was all a fancy way of saying his phone was always on vibrate mode nowadays.

“Sorry, got to get this!” he lied, pulling his phone out and pretending he was taking a call while he rushed to his bedroom.

He, of course, wasn’t proud of his actions, but he also knew he couldn’t live with himself if he said the wrong thing either. Not after tonight with Bradley. Hurting him had been bad enough. Hurting the man who had literally saved Jake’s life and was helping him undo the trauma JJ Seresin left in his wake—inconceivable.

It had only been a few months since Jake had taken the Simpson name and shed the Seresin one. These past few months he had felt like a new man, a changed one for the better if he were honest. So, he’d be damned if he made his dad regret it yet.

Of course, in reality, Jake knew he only delayed the conversation a few days at best.

Chapter 2: Par 2

A week later, Jake sat in his usual spot at the Hard Deck, mindlessly picking at the label of his beer bottle. He kept his head hung so he wouldn’t see Bradley’s ugly black eye he caused. It was even worse today. No amounts of sorry were going to make up for it, regardless what Bradshaw had said.

“All right. Out with it. What happened?” Penny asked, leaning against her bar in front of him.

“I’m fine,” he replied quietly. If he kept repeating it, eventually he would be. Wasn’t that how that old thing went?

“Frankly, sweetheart, that’s a load of horse shit, and you and I both know it.” Penny Benjamin—calling it as it was. She patted the open spot in front of him lightly. “Talk to me please.”

“There’s nothing you can do to help.” No one could help him. And no amount of talking about it was going to make him miraculously not suck anymore at golf.

Not to be deterred, however, she argued, “How do you know if you won’t let me at least try?”

He glanced at her and sighed heavily. Fine. If anyone knew how to get him out of this mess, he figured it’d be her. She had gotten herself out of numerous shitty situations over the years.

“What do you know about the Admirals’ Invitational?”

She blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that question.

“That it’s full of arrogant old blowhards trying to relive their glory days while making stupid sexist and bigoted remarks about everything under the sun.” She shrugged lightly. “Why do you ask?”

“Dad was invited to it.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “He and Dad are the one exceptions,” she amended. “But, honestly, only them.” She then flashed a soft smile at Jake. “So, you’re finally going this year?”

“Yeah.”

“I see. Am I correct to assume then that Beau has already started on his whole ten-point attack plan nonsense on how you’ll wipe the competition off the face of the Earth and win that stupid trophy he’s been desperate to win for an ungodly amount of time?”

“He actually hasn’t said anything to me about that yet.” Which Jake was eternally grateful. The old man had only brought it up that one time and hadn’t said a word about it since.

“Well, knowing him, he’s probably not wanting to do anything that’ll cause you to regret accepting his family name. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” That actually did make him feel a little better actually. Who knew his dad better than Penny, after all?  “That said, if it’s bothering you this much, though, you should say something to him. He wouldn’t want you to work yourself up over it.”

He felt his cheeks start to redden under her curious gaze and hung his head as a result. She, however, gently tipped his chin back up and stared at him with a soft, motherly look. A look that he couldn’t even remember his own mother giving him.

“Jake, honey, talk to me.” God, she just stripped him bear with her kindness. “What is it?”

“I don’t want to disappoint him, Ma,” he murmured, swallowing the lump in his throat. There it was, the thing eating him alive inside.

Turning away at once, she addressed Jimmy and Bradley as she spoke, “Hold down the bar for a bit, all right?” She didn’t wait for either man’s reply, though. Her gaze instead returned to Jake. “Walk with me please.” Her tone left no room for argument. It wasn’t a request.

Jake nodded his goodbyes to Bradley, then followed her out the back a few moments later.

When she stepped out of her flats and walked barefoot across the sand, he paused in confusion before he toed out of his shoes as well and removed his socks to join her down on the beach. He wasn’t exactly sure where she was leading him other than away from the bar.

“Penny?” he asked hesitantly when she still hadn’t said a word several minutes later.

Should he have not called her Ma earlier? Had that upset her for some reason? He hadn’t thought it bothered her in the past, but maybe it did now. There was only one thing to do then.

“I’m sorry.”

She finally stopped walking, whirling back around to him. Her hands quickly went to his face to hold him gently, though.

“Oh, Jake.” Her voice held such a somber note to it that he couldn’t place. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for here. You’ve done nothing wrong. Do you hear me?”

He didn’t understand.

“Then why weren’t you saying anything?” Why was she just walking aimlessly on the beach?

“Because I needed a moment so I wouldn’t curse that dead son of a bitch who put those thoughts in your head and start ranting everything under the sun at him and get the cops called on us,” she replied with a faint, muted smile. She gently brushed her thumbs over his cheekbones soon after, as if she were wiping away his tears. “Nothing you could ever do, Jake, would ever make Beau be disappointed in you. Nothing,” she repeated firmly. “That grumpy old killjoy may act like he’s always exasperated with everything in life and that fun doesn’t compute in his big head, but I promise you—swear it on my life even—he loves you unconditionally, Jake.”

“But I suck at golf, Ma,” he admitted, unable to hold back the terrible truth that was pouring from him now. “And he badly wants to win that trophy according to just about everyone. He’s counting on me to—”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, cutting him off before she slid her arms around his back and held him tightly against her for a moment in a loving, motherly hug.

Jake could feel more of his armor chip away, falling to the ground beneath them.

“I’m going to let you in on a family secret, okay? I need your word you won’t ever tell another soul about it. Not even Bradley. Understood?”

Jake nodded back, unable to get the words past the tears he was fighting off.

God, she had healing hugs. Or maybe he was just dying to be hugged and told by someone that everything would be okay. That the world wasn’t ending. Sure, he was thirty-one. But, fuck it, if adults didn’t need to be told that from time to time. He choked down his cry when she pulled back slowly to look at him. She gently caressed his cheek as she held his gaze.

“That little voice inside your head, the one telling you all sorts of lies right now, Jake, it doesn’t know the story of how scared out of his mind your dad was when Dad asked him that first time to join him for the stupid golf tournament. It doesn’t know that I had to talk him down just like this the morning of the invitational because he worked himself up to the point where he convinced himself that if he went out there with Dad, played that round, he’d somehow embarrass Dad, thereby ruin our family name.”

Jake’s lips slightly parted. “He was?”

“He was,” she confirmed with a gentle nod.

“How’d he get past it?”

“Well, you see, sweetheart, we Benjamins have this annoying habit where we feel like we have to step in and help when someone’s hurting or whatever it is this time, especially when it’s someone we care for. It drives you Simpson men insane because your family is of the belief that not everything can be, whereas we Benjamins are willing to die trying to prove that it should at least be attempted.”

Jake sniggered, enjoying her light teasing.

“Anyway, I talked to Dad for him. Your dad got so irritated with me for betraying his trust like that, but Dad was the only one who could help in that situation. Beau wouldn’t have listened to me. Maybe for a bit, but that voice, the same one you’re hearing, would have twisted it eventually. Dad sat him down, though, and they talked all of it out. They ended up being a few hours late to the stupid thing, but it was what your dad needed at the time. And that was the only thing that mattered.”

“How’d they do?”

“Last place, but if you asked him, he’d swear they won it that year. I never dare to correct him.” She smiled faintly, clearly thinking about something. “Ethan and he usually place about third or fourth. And your dear brother would never admit it, but I happen to have it on good authority that he’s rather disappointed that he won’t be here for it this year. He was hoping to cheer you on.”

“But I suck.” He didn’t figure there would be much cheering happening if he were honest.

“So what?” She laughed. “It’s supposed to be a fun family event, Jake. I mean, I guarantee you that you’re going to find yourself doubled over laughing when you see Pete and Dad golfing.”

Jake blinked in surprise. “Mav’s golfing?” He didn’t see him ever doing something like that.

“He is. Supposedly, it’s Pete’s way of making up for all the hell he gave my father over the years, but I know it’s really so he can ask Dad for his blessing in between shots.”

“Hang on. You know?”

She nodded with a quiet laugh. “Hard not to when he keeps fiddling with the ring box whenever he thinks I’m not paying attention. Then there’s the fact that he straight up stole one of my rings from my jewelry box after you all came home this last time. Pete’s many things, sweetheart, but subtle isn’t one of them. But if I hadn’t already noticed all of that, his volunteering to golf with Dad definitely threw up red flags. They get along like oil and water. Always have, always will.”

“Are you going to say yes?” He knew it was strange to ask, all things considered, but he was a Hallmark-trash-loving gay. And seeing Penny with Mav in her life and remembering what she was like without him told Jake all he needed to know about them—they belonged together.

“Probably, but I’m going to make him sweat about it first, of course.” She grinned. “I can’t make it too easy for him, you know? Otherwise, he’d get bored, and him bored is a threat to humanity.”

Jake chuckled before he sighed soon after. “You really think I should sit Dad down?”

“I do. I think it’ll calm both your nerves.”

“He’s been telling everyone about how good we’ll be.”

“No, sweetheart,” she disagreed. “He’s been telling everyone how you’re joining him this year. There’s a difference.”

“But he wants to win the trophy.” And Jake knew that wouldn’t be something that’d happen.

“He hasn’t won the damn thing in twenty years, Jake. That’s with Cassie, Ethan, and me partnering with him. And he sure as hell didn’t win it the times he golfed with Dad either. Ergo, he’s used to losing it and won’t care as much as that lying voice is telling you he will. Do you know what he’ll be instead?” Jake shook his head, though. “Sappy as hell while trying to act like he’s not. All because he gets to strut his stuff around all the Crypt Keeper assholes, showing off his newest son, you, who is giving Pete a run for his money, I’m told, which is saying something.”

“Thanks, Penny.”

She nodded silently before she pushed up onto her tiptoes and kissed his forehead gently. “Now, consider your tab closed, Lieutenant Commander, and go find your dad. That’s an order.”

He snapped to attention and saluted her, only to chuckle when she playfully pushed him away.

---

Taking Penny’s words to heart, Jake drove home to his dad’s house. As he pulled into the driveway, he could see the light on in his dad’s room and sighed. Here went nothing.

Several minutes later, he stood in front of the partially closed bedroom door.

Jake knocked soon after, swallowing down his nerves before he peeked around the door into the room. He felt like he was Ethan’s age, asking if he could stay up for an extra half hour.

“Jacob?”

“Hey, Dad.” There was something soothing about hearing his dad’s usual way of addressing him. “Could we . . . that is . . . could we talk?”

Cyclone nodded immediately, setting aside his book to show that Jake had his full attention now. Waiting patiently as Jake approached, he watched Jake hover beside the bed for half a second. At the silent pat on the edge of the bed, Jake reluctantly sat, deciding sitting would probably help a bit here.

“Okay, so, I’m just going to come out and say it.”

“All right.”

He paused for half a second, noticing his dad’s hesitant tone. The best thing he could do for them here was to rip off the Band-Aid. He had really delayed long enough. He’d just come out and say it. Tell his dad the truth like he should have done from the start. Then, his dad could ask someone who actually would help him win the trophy this year instead of wasting his time on Jake.

“Okay, so, I know you’re really wanting to win the trophy this year and all, that you think I’m your best bet to do that even, but . . .” His voice trailed off for half a second as he struggled to find the right words to say. Ripping off the Band-Aid. It was what he had to do here. Rip it clean off and trust that his dad would understand. “That’s not going to happen. I’m sorry. I really am, but . . . but I can’t. I’m more likely to get us laughed off the course than anything. That’s the God’s honest truth.”

His dad was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me lately?”

“I just didn’t want to disappoint you,” he admitted, choosing to trust in his instincts, trust his dad, “and you were so happy, telling everyone about me joining you, and—”

“Yes, because in the past, I asked your brother instead to spare you any painful reminders of your prior home life. However, I assumed it would have been easier for you this year. I apologize if—”

“—but it’s not you, though. It’s me, Dad,” Jake argued. “You’re allowed to want to win a trophy you’ve been chasing after for decades. I’m just saying you should try without me holding you back.”

His dad straightened at once. “What on Earth are you talking about?”

“The Admirals’ Invitational trophy.” What else could he have been talking about there?

“Yes, I caught that part,” his dad retorted with a touch of Benjamin sass slipping through. “I’m wondering why you believe you’ll be holding me back?”

“Because I’m terrible at golf.”

“And then?”

Okay, he’d rip off more Band-Aids then. “Have you seen Bradshaw lately by chance?”

“Considering he is no longer under my command anymore, no. However, what does he have to do with anything?” His dad was thoroughly confused now.

“Okay, well, do you remember the night I came home from my date early then?”

Jake would start this off slow. Really slow then so he could help the old man to understand.

“Vaguely. Why?”

“Well, Bradley and I went mini golfing for our date that night.”

The confusion only spread further on his dad’s face. “And then?”

“And I hit the ball hard enough to break a window, Dad!”

Cyclone sighed but otherwise didn’t react much. “Yes, well, these things hap—”

“Dad!” he cut in sharply, needing him to understand here. “I ended up whacking the ball hard enough that it bounced into his eye. I’m the one who gave him the black eye that he’s been sporting these days, Dad. Me!”

“It was an accident, though, Jacob.”

“Yes, but what if that had been you? What if I hit the ball and break your hand or something. No, it’s better for everyone involved if I just . . . if I’m nowhere near that place.” He was sure of it.

“For whom?” his dad challenged. “For you?”

“I’m not good at it.” Why wasn’t the old man comprehending this?

His dad scoffed loudly. “Oh, by all means, please do tell me where it said on the invite that you had to be skilled at golf to play. Because I clearly missed that line,” his dad quipped. “You weren’t invited because I needed to use your athleticism and skills to my advantage to win a trophy. You were asked because I wanted to spend time with my son, with you, Jacob. That’s the only reason.”

“But you want to win the trophy.” And having Jake as his partner would do the opposite of that.

“Between you and a trophy, son, I will always choose you. Choose your brother and sister as well. You three kids are the most important things in my life, higher than the Navy even, and I quite honestly don’t know what I would do without you three anymore.”

Damn that sappy old man for making parenting look so damn easy all the time.

Jake hoped someday that he was half the amazing man his dad was.

“If you’re this concerned, however,” his dad continued, “with your current skills, I’m more than happy to teach you to help you get more comfortable before the event.”

“I don’t think you’re understanding how terrible I am,” Jake sighed.

“I’ll be fine, son.”

“You say that now, but—”

“Jacob, it’ll be fine,” his dad reiterated gently, patting his hand. “We’ll see where you’re at and work at getting you more comfortable at it. And if you happen to break a few windows while we’re at it, well, you’re hardly the first in our family to do so. All right?”

The frequent displays of unending patience still surprised Jake at times. He was still so used to JJ Seresin, who had literally none ever. Deep down, he knew he shouldn’t have been surprised when Cyclone proved why he was the superior father, but he was every time.

“Fair enough, Dad,” Jake replied a moment later. “We’ll try it your way. But you might want to borrow some Kevlar just to be safe.”

“Oh, get out already, you cheeky brat,” chuckled his dad, shaking his head in amusement.

Maybe this wouldn’t be the nightmare Jake envisioned after all.

Chapter 3: Par 3

Three days later, Jake found himself walking next to his dad on a pristine golf course that looked like it had never even heard of weeds, much less had to deal with them ever. Though, considering how fancy the country club they were at was, he figured it hadn’t. Hell, the place had a strict dress code, in fact. No uniforms, so they had to wear civilian wear. Jake was in a pair of khakis and baby blue button-down shirt, while his dad wore a plaid button-down over a white t-shirt and a pair of chinos.

When they walked towards a small water feature instead of the first hole, Jake was curious.

“Am I missing something here?” he asked when they came to stop just in front of the pond. “Shouldn’t we be over there?” He motioned to the start of the first hole.

“In a bit. Today, however, we’re going to hit balls into the pond.”

“Uh . . . why?” That seemed counterintuitive here. He wouldn’t be aiming for the water ever.

“Just trust me.” His dad pressed the white tee into the ground before he balanced the first ball on top of it. “This is how I taught your brother and sister to play.” A little quieter, his dad then said, “It’s how I was taught.”

“By your dad?” Jake asked curiously. From what he knew of his dad’s dad, he didn’t see it.

“By Jack, yes,” his dad confirmed with a slight nod. “He learned from his father who learned from his father and so on. Penny never had the necessary patience for it, so it became something he and I did eventually together.”

“Did you ever golf with her?” He vaguely recalled Penny mentioning that she had partnered up with him a few times over the years.

“Occasionally. It was shortly after I was promoted to rear admiral, however, that I was invited to join without Jack vouching for me.”

“Was she good at it?”

Cyclone huffed out a quiet laugh. “She enjoyed wearing her short outfits and giving her father grief more than the actual activity itself. When she partnered with me later, that hadn’t changed, I assure you. That said, I will admit she could hit the balls long distance with surprising accuracy. However, she honestly was only ever good for being a hell of a distraction to the other players.”

Jake chuckled. He could see that.

“Now, watch me. A good swing is all about how well you rotate your hips and shoulders and follow through to the ball. For example.” His dad then demonstrated, hitting the ball with just enough lift that it arched into a curve and landed in the center of his target—the lake. “The same basic principles of flying can be applied to golf. Mostly at least.”

“Except we have to know about payload weight, wind speed, its direction, relative humidity—”

“—which are all things you need to consider before you swing out here,” his dad commented. “Trust me. Once you get the foundation down, you’ll be surprised at how much they have in common.”

Yeah, Jake wasn’t so convinced.

His dad teed up two more balls before he hit each one with a graceful swing, sending the cheap golf balls into the pond with little more than a ploop and splash.

“Do you see how I’m rotating just a bit in my hips while my shoulders do the same? There’s no need to put my full power behind the swing yet. However, that little action gives me a bit more stability in my hit when I follow through.” His dad then teed up three more balls equal distance from each other. “Now, you try.”

He wasn’t sure about it, but he approached the golf balls anyway.

He swung at the first, missing the ball and tee completely. His club thunked into the ground hard before it and clumps of grass flew up as the club sailed out of his hands.

His dad’s hands immediately snatched a hold of Jake’s shirt and yanked him back from the free-falling club that was descending back to Earth.

“Christ Almighty,” muttered Cyclone, keeping his hands wrapped around Jake protectively.

Jake groaned inwardly but glanced upwards with a sheepish smile. “Told you I was bad.”

“No, you’re . . . you just need more practice. That’s all. Now, try again, but lift up the club this time so it connects with the ball.” Yeah . . . something told Jake that wasn’t his problem here, but he’d try . . . or kill them trying. Either way.

---

Four hours and a two-hour urgent care visit later, they were limping into the Hard Deck for well-earned drinks after their first day of practice.

“Well, how’d it go?” Penny inquired when they finally reached her at the bar.

Jake let his head hit the bartop and groaned loudly while his dad just sighed with a pinched look.

“Ah.” Penny nodded sharply. “Jameson for you then, Beau?”

“No,” Cyclone replied, shaking his head. “Shiner Bock, please.”

Jake caught her sharp inhale and lifted his head miserably to glance at her. He caught her instant look of shock before she managed to school her face again and turn away to grab the requested beer. He supposed Shiner Bock was some hidden code between the two old friends that told her just how badly practice went today. It made sense after all. The two had grown up together, had a sibling bond now.

When she returned a few moments later with a pleasant smile on her face, she set both his Budweiser and his dad’s Shiner bottles in front of them. “Here you go. For my two favorite men.”

“Hey now!” called out Mav from where he sat drinking his own bottle of beer alone at the end of the bar. “I’m literally sitting right here, sweetheart.”

Without missing a beat, she volleyed back, “Well, you shouldn’t have let it slip the other day about your one true love to me then, now should you have, honey?”

“Jesus! How many times do I have to apologize, Pen?” Mav groaned under his breath. “I didn’t mean it like that. Honest, I didn’t.” He held his hands out to her, palms up. “You’re my true love. Darkstar was just a harmless fling. That’s it. You’re my forever, though. It just took me a bit to realize.”

“Uh-huh.” She pointed at Mav, though. “Please, do keep digging, Captain.”

Noticing his dad’s wince out of the corner of his eye, Jake instinctively moved the Shiner Bock closer so the old man wouldn’t have to strain too much to grab his drink. He had to admit that seeing Penny and Mav’s back-and-forth was pretty amusing. It certainly kept his mind off golfing.

She then leaned across the bar to Mav. “Remember, sweetheart. Theo doesn’t share his couch with just anyone these days, not unless you’re Amelia or me, and your poor back can’t handle sleeping on the floor anymore. But, of course, you remember all that, I’m sure.”

“Says the woman who had me physically thrown from her bar just a day after I ejected at high-altitude all because she was power tripping and wanted to get me back for leaving her again.”

Jake blanched. What?! Jake had been one of the ones to help throw him out. He caught Penny’s apologetic look directed at Maverick, realizing she must have heard about it at some point and still felt bad over it. Her hands immediately went to her pockets as she pulled back from the captain.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Mitchell! Shut your damn mouth already and quit while you’re behind. You made your damn bed; now lie in it, dumbass,” snapped Cyclone brusquely. He took a long drink from his bottle then and swallowed loud enough to be heard over the shocked silence that followed.

Blinking, Jake stared at his dad, watching Cyclone’s gaze locked on Penny. The two seemed to be having a silent feud over something, and Jake could see the annoyance grow by the second in his dad’s face.

“Uh . . . understood, sir,” Captain Mitchell replied awkwardly a few moments later. “Shutting up now, sir.”

Finishing off his bottle, Cyclone dropped his empty bottle onto the bartop, then gingerly scooted off the stool, limped, and disappeared behind the men’s restroom door.

As soon as he was out of sight, Penny moved to stand in front of Jake. “What happened?”

“I suck at golf is what happened, Ma,” he sighed heavily. Wasn’t that obvious?

“No, this is something else,” she argued, shaking her head. “Tell me. What happened?”

Jake sighed again before he shrugged. Oh, what the hell. “He was trying to adjust my stance, but I didn’t know he moved to do that, so I ended up nailing him with the club instead. Course, that was after I tossed not just one but two of his golf clubs into the water and bent the frames of three more.”

Mav whistled low. “Damn, kid.” When Penny snapped her fingers with a glare at Pops, Mav winced and took a large guilty gulp from his beer bottle. Penny was clearly not in the mood for any of Mav’s shit tonight.

“Okay,” she said slowly, turning back to Jake and giving him her full attention again, “but why are you limping?”

“I overswung and hit the club into the back of my leg. I was trying to hit the ball to the other side of the fairway away from the water, and, well, I ended up tripping over myself instead and rolled my ankle underneath me when I fell. Doc says it’s just a pulled muscle, though.” Thank God.

His dad then cleared his throat, signaling his return.

Jesus! How the hell could he move so fast like that?

“Fine,” Jake grumbled. God, this was so embarrassing. “And I managed to hurt my ribs, I guess, when I dove for the ball and hit the ground later on.” He sounded like a clumsy kid who couldn’t walk straight. “For the record,” he argued, “that’s only because no one realized I had an undiagnosed hairline fracture from the last mission.” Ergo—so not his fault.

Though, at least he knew now why his side had hurt like a bitch so much lately.

Everyone but his dad stared at Jake with matching shocked looks.

“I’m still cleared to play, though.”

Whether he’d make it until then was anyone’s guess.

---

The second day of practice wasn’t seeming to go any better than the first. But at least there wasn’t a need for urgent care this time so far, he supposed. There was that. Small wins, his dad called it.

Speaking of Dad, he could see Cyclone’s vein pulsating in the afternoon sun, but his dad never let his frustration out on him. Not once. Instead, the old man swallowed down every thought he had and chose to offer encouraging advice here and there. It was a definite switch from what Jake was used to, as JJ almost always screamed obscenities at him whenever Jake would make a mistake.

After another hard swing, Jake’s golf club flew backwards and sent Cyclone to hit the deck to escape its unforgiving path yet again.

Jake groaned, hanging his head. At the gentle, comforting hand to his shoulder a moment later, he dared a peek and found his dad holding his club in hand with a forced smile.

“Look at it this way,” Cyclone said, “nobody can be perfect at everything they do all the time, Jacob. And, well, luckily, this particular skill set is not a requirement necessary to succeed at life.”

Jake replied dryly, “Is that supposed to make me feel better here?”

“Yes.”

“Hate to break it to you there, but it doesn’t.” He then sighed. It was time to call it quits, and if his dad wasn’t, he would. “I bet you could still ask Warlock or Ma to partner with you instead.”

“Cast that thought out of your head completely. I’m golfing with you or not at all.”

“You really want to see me accidentally kill someone, don’t you? I mean, that’s one way to win.”

His dad let out an exasperated sigh. “For the last time, I don’t care about winning that trophy.”

“Yeah, I know. Because you’re Super Sap Dad instead and only want to golf with me,” Jake sassed back. He didn’t believe his dad for a single second. Of course his dad wanted to win. Why else would he have cleared that space on the mantel the other night?

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Dad, I suck.”

“No, you’re improving, Jacob.”

“Then you need your eyes checked because you’re blind if you think I’m getting better at this.” If anything, he felt like he was getting worse.

Sure, he knew what a hook meant now. That it meant the ball spun hard to the left. And, yeah, he also knew about slices and how they were when the ball curved sharply to the right like it had nearly missed its exit on the freeway. But he doubted golf terminology was going to help here. It wasn’t like he was hitting anything but hooks and slices still. But, hey, at least he knew what he was supposed to be hitting, which was fades and draws. That counted, right?

“Try again,” Cyclone encouraged, holding out Jake’s golf club. “And this time, reduce the power behind your swing and keep your club angled like this.”

“But I’ll hit the ground.”

“Trust me.”

“Fine.” He grabbed the club and sighed exaggeratedly. It wasn’t going to work. He was destined to be the world’s worst golfer, the only Simpson in the history of their family to kill someone golfing.

Jake dropped his butt back and loosened his grip a smidge while he straightened his stance, recalling one of his dad’s earlier lessons. It felt strange to angle his club down, but he supposed his dad would know best here. Less power would certainly help with the control issues he was having. It was the same as in a jet, after all. Too much power, too much lift equaled disaster and possible stall outs of an engine. So, changing the angle to this, it’d have to help with height somehow.

“Take a breath, Jacob. Slow the game down. You’ve got this. You control the pace, not it.”

He listened to his dad and took a slow breath. Right. He had this. Slow the game down and make it easier to see what was happening between his club and ball. How a variable changed here would affect it there. He knew from pool that sometimes it’d make all the difference if one didn’t push the shot.

“Fore!” he shouted, thankful they were the only ones around. He hit the ball and watched it sail through the air before disappearing for a brief second and dropping down across the way a few feet from the marker of the hole.

“There you go. See.” His dad patted him on the back. “You are improving.”

“That was just a lucky shot.”

“Maybe.” Cyclone put down a tee to set a ball on. However, instead of taking the shot himself, he motioned for Jake.

“But it’s your turn.”

“I’m aware. However, we’re just practicing here so rules don’t matter.”

Jake grabbed his chest tightly in exaggerated shock. “What? Did you just—I can’t believe my own ears—did you just say rules don’t matter? Who are you and what did you do with my dad?”

“Hilarious. Now, get up there and hit the ball like I asked you to, smartass.”

Snorting, Jake moved closer to do as his dad said.

He broke down the steps just like Cyclone taught him. Readjusted his stance a few times. Angled his club to how he had earlier. And he took a deep breath, holding it in for a few moments before exhaling. Just like last time, he reminded himself.

On his next exhale, he hit the ball.

It streaked through the air, sailing straighter than Jake had ever hit it. However, at the last possible minute, his ball veered left and hit one of the tree trunks. The hard hit sent bits of bark up flying as the ball bounced backwards before it boinked into the pond between them.

He honestly couldn’t recall how many balls they had lost already. He knew it was quite a bit, however. Damaged golf clubs, though, they were up to about nine or ten he knew.

Glancing at his dad, he noticed the dropped shoulders as his dad looked on in resigned disbelief with his mouth slightly open. Cyclone’s head then tilted to the side for a moment before his eyes widened, mouth closed. The corners of his lips hooked and sliced to create an exaggerated frown on his old man’s face. The perfect example of the inversion they all had to do for last November’s mission while entering coffin corner.

“Damn, Jacob,” his dad muttered. “Thank God you have radar to rely on because you sure as hell can’t hit a broadside of a barn down here based on that.”

Gee, thanks, Dad.

Chapter 4: Par 4

A couple of days later, Jake dragged his tired, aching self through the front door to his dad’s house. His golf lessons were over now as the old man finally saw the light and decided it was best for all involved if they just gave it a rest. Though, the crazy old fool was still insisting Jake be his partner for the Admirals’ Invitational for some strange reason.

“Oh, thank God!” Ethan declared dramatically the second Jake stepped into the living room. “I was beginning to think you forgot.”

Jake blinked, searching his exhausted and muddled brain to remember what he had said.

His little brother, however, snatched a hold of his arm and pulled him back out the front door. “Bye, Dad. We’ll be home in a few hours,” Ethan tossed over his shoulder as an afterthought like usual.

They were at Jake’s truck when he finally asked, “I never agreed to anything, did I?”

“No, but Dad doesn’t know that.” His little brother grinned widely. “Now, come on. Let’s go, J. We’re already an hour late.”

He shook his head but hopped into his truck anyway. It had been a while since the two spent any quality brotherly bonding together. And Ethan was always good for a hell of a distraction, he knew.

“You know I’m going to need—” He blinked when he saw Ethan’s phone already snapped onto his dashboard mount with directions pulled up for him to follow. “Never mind.” Wherever they were going was only twenty minutes away according to Google Maps. He started the truck up, waited until his brother had his seat belt on, then pulled out into the street to speed off to wherever they were going.

After the third right turn, his curiosity got the better of him.

“We’re not meeting up with the young Ms. Benjamin in secret, are we, young Casanova? Because I am not your Uber driver bringing you over for your late-night booty calls whenever you start missing her.”

“Ha-ha,” scoffed Ethan. “Joke’s on you, though, because I don’t need Uber to see her.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed instantly. “And what exactly does that mean?”

He watched his little brother turn scarlet as the kid realized what he had admitted to there.

“Sneaking out, are we?”

“No, it’s not like that. Honest, J,” Ethan pleaded with him, clearly needing Jake to believe him. “I promise. I’m not sneaking out. Dad would ground me until I was fifty if he ever caught me pulling that shit on him.”

“And that’s if you’re lucky,” he remarked, grateful to hear he didn’t need to have the big brother speech he had gotten himself from his late older brother long ago. “But, well, you said that for a reason, pipsqueak. So, go on. Spill it, bud.”

“I FaceTime her sometimes, okay? We just end up talking usually about stupid things. That’s it. Lately it’s been about her being nervous to ask her parents if they could teach her to drive sometime. She’s worried they’re going to think she’s only doing it because of me and might get some silly idea in their heads that she eventually would sneak out and drive across the country to see me at the Academy.”

Ah, young love.

“Don’t you two see each other enough at school?”

“That’s like me asking if you ever get sick of Bradley, J. Of course not,” his brother scoffed. He then shifted his weight, clearly not finished talking yet. “Like, I’m not worried she’ll end up falling for someone else when I’m away or anything like that. It’s just . . . I just found her, you know? And here we are, already being pulled apart.”

“The good thing about love, though, is that if it’s going to last, it’ll last, kid. Take Bradley and me for example. We hooked up and split shortly afterwards. We weren’t in the right place to have this kind of meaningful relationship at the time. That came with experience and wisdom.”

Huh. Who would have thought he’d have matured enough to realize all that shit?

“Spoken like a true old person,” quipped his little brother.

“Yeah, well, it’s the truth.” Old? Who the hell was the little shit calling old here? Jake was still in his early 30s. He was in his prime. Old? Freaking kids these days. “You may care a whole hell of a lot for her. I’m not going to sit here and argue otherwise, but you two are in two very different places in your lives right now. You’re about to go off to the Academy to prepare yourself for what will feel like hell on earth at times. Meanwhile, she still has high school to finish and figure out what comes after for her. If it’s meant to be, life will find a way.”

Jake then caught the entrance sign of where Ethan’s directions were leading them.

“Ugh! Seriously?” he groaned loudly. “A mini-golf place? Not the batting cages? Not a movie theater? Here?” There were so many options they could have gone that wouldn’t frustrate the hell out of Jake as he knew he’d hear the laughter directed his way all night long.

“Just trust me,” replied his brother, pointing out an open parking spot.

Once parked, Jake turned off the ignition and sighed. Here went nothing.

Shoving his keys into his pocket, he walked beside his little brother to the small rental hut, already reaching for his wallet in his back pocket.

“You can put that away, kid,” a familiar voice spoke up. “You’re already paid for.”

Jake’s head whipped to the voice at once. He was stunned at the sight of the small group waiting off to the side for them already. What in the world? Why was . . . wait . . . what was going on?

“Captain Mitchell?” What was Pops doing here? Why was he here?

“Maverick,” he corrected Jake gently. “I’m not here as your commanding officer tonight.”

He wasn’t? But . . . okay, what was going on? Jake’s eyes darted to his brother at once. What had that conniving little brat done this time? His answer, however, came from another.

“Apologies, young man, but I don’t believe we’ve ever been properly introduced.” Penny’s father held out his hand to Jake. “I’m Admiral Benjamin, but you, son, may call me Jack.”

“Jake, sir,” he replied, feeling rather dazed by the way the admiral carried himself. He could see a lot of Penny in her dad. However, he made certain to shake the offered hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” After hearing the stories from his dad during their stay at the cabin in Montana months prior, he felt like he knew the man before him already. He was smart enough to know he didn’t.

“You can cut out the whole ‘sir’ bullshit, son. Only Captain Mitchell here is expected to follow protocol to the letter tonight. You’re in the clear, young man.”

It may have been funny, but Jake knew from past experience with others of the admiral’s rank, that rank mattered in the end. Period. So, he chose instead to straighten his posture to stand at attention, as was drilled into him, and smother his amusement. He was certain he probably could get away with acting like the admiral was family and all since he knew Penny’s father and his dad were so close, but he also knew that his actions reflected on others, not just himself. He knew that from being around JJ Seresin’s friends over the years when he grew up. He wasn’t going to mess this up.

“Respectfully, sir, I can’t follow that, seeing as how Captain Mitchell is my commanding officer. Plus, if I play my cards right one day, he may be even my future father-in-law.” Nothing said Jake couldn’t be a straight shooter here. Because he was going to ask Bradley to marry him someday. When the timing was perfect. When the moment felt right.

Penny’s father chuckled warmly with an amused smile. “Taking after Beau, I see. He too always declined my offer to break away from protocols.” Jake wanted to beam with obvious pride at Jack’s words, but experience taught him to be the perfect officer here. “If that’s what you prefer, then I suppose I’ll have to get over the stuffiness of the whole matter, won’t I?”

Recognizing the admiral’s question was rhetorical, Jake waited patiently for him to continue speaking. He thankfully didn’t have to wait long.

“I’m told you’ve partnered with Beau for the Admirals’ Invitational.”

“Yes, sir.” And he was dreading every minute of it, knowing he was going to end up embarrassing the man he owed so much to. Sure, his dad had told him that he didn’t care what others thought, but so had a lot of people over the years. And they always did in the end.

“I was also told you’re operating under the mistaken impression that we are all professional golfers as well; is that right, young man?”

Jake wanted to crawl into a hole and bury himself immediately. As it was, however, he forced a small smile to his lips and held the admiral’s stony gaze. “Perhaps not professional, sir, but definitely more so worrisome for me, I suppose?” he answered tactfully.

“Worrisome?” Jack repeated with raised brows. “Son, have you ever heard the story behind the invitational? Why it came to be?”

“No, sir, I have not.”

“It started after Korea when morale among the Brass was at its lowest. The very first tournament consisted of the highest echelons of the Navy all the way up to SECNAV himself. All their families were invited to give them all a chance to spend time and reconnect with their loved ones who had manned the home front while they were away. Now, the story goes SECNAV’s kid ran out onto the green and begged to play, too, as kids of course do from time to time. Up until that point, it was a serious tournament. Like what you’d see on the PGA channel or what have you. The moment the kid showed up, however, the tension the men all carried vanished. Some of the most serious men in the Navy, ones who’d had their asses handed to them by the President and everyone else who thought they were something at that time, men who were forced to bear all the criticism in silence—and, Lord, was there criticism—without comment or an outlet to explain their actions or inactions they took, they suddenly found themselves laughing with SECNAV at the adorable interruption. It didn’t take long for them to abandon their game altogether in favor of playing with their kids or other loved ones there with them. In time, it evolved to what it is now.”

Jake could recall other similar events. He never was invited to any of them, of course. Admiral Seresin always preferred to show Justin off and pretend Jake didn’t exist. At least that was what it always felt like to Jake. It was one of the reasons why he sometimes felt out of sorts around his dad nowadays. Because his dad never tried to wish Jake out of existence or ever made it clear that he preferred Ethan and Cassie over Jake—even though, Jake would understand it if his dad did, seeing as how Ethan and Cassie were actually his dad’s kids and Jake was just a waylaid orphaned ugly duckling.

“Now, let me make this absolutely clear to you, son,” Admiral Benjamin announced, drawing Jake’s attention at once. “We are by no means professionals, nor are we all coveting the trophy either. Oh, sure, there might be a few, naturally, but most of us just want to spend time with our loved ones, our family. That’s it, son. So, if you can’t hit a broadside of a barn, well, that’s just fine, young man. No one is going to hold it against you. And if anyone does, well, you send them my way. Understood?”

“Dad told you?”

“He may have mentioned you were being unnecessarily hard on yourself while laboring under the mistaken belief we would ostracize people over a poor golf game. That’s not to say there won’t be an occasional tease here or there, of course, but believe me when I say, we’re no Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus, or even Tiger Woods. We’re just old timers who are thankful to walk a course still at our age.”

At the feel of a familiar hand on his shoulder a second later, Jake glanced up, finding his dad standing behind him. When had he arrived?

“Was it completely necessary for you to ask McAllister to order me here, Jack?”

“Was it? No, I suppose not,” remarked Admiral Benjamin with a slight mischievous shrug. “However, it got you here, and that’s all that matters really, son.” He winked at Jake then before he wandered over to talk to Penny and Maverick, who were watching the kids.

“Conniving old man,” Cyclone muttered under his breath. His gaze then glanced at Jake. “For the record, this was not my idea.”

“I know,” Jake laughed quietly. “Pretty sure it was Ethan’s.” It had his brother’s fingerprints all over it. “What do you say, though? Should we risk it?”

Always the skilled diplomat, his dad replied, “Would you be okay if we did?”

He shrugged with one shoulder. “Honestly, it’s got all the makings for a lot of great family memories. We can never have enough of those.” Not with the lives they had lived at least.

“True. But I would understand if you wanted a break from it. I know I . . .” his dad’s voice trailed off as he searched for the right words.

“Regret asking me as your partner?” Jake finished for him.

“Never, Jacob,” his dad asserted. “It’s never crossed my mind even.”

“It’s okay if it has, though. I mean, I know I’m not exactly the partner you wanted.”

Cyclone sighed heavily, clearly trying to dampen his exasperation so it wasn’t as noticeable.

Turning away, Jake decided to move the night along, so they wouldn’t be out there forever.

“So, how are we doing this exactly?” he asked, glancing at the others.

“I’ll play the round with Ms. Benjamin and Ethan if you four will golf together?”

Jake caught Amelia’s barely concealed eye roll at Cyclone’s suggestion. He couldn’t understand what her problem was with his dad, but he supposed it was just the usual rebellious teenage attitude shining through.

“Sounds good to me.” Jake glanced at Mav, noticing the old man’s soft gaze on Penny. Yeah, no way was he going to separate them after seeing that look on the captain’s face.

“What do you say to us playing against them, Jacob?” suggested Admiral Benjamin, offering Jake a disarming smile. “That way we can split the holes and rest easy for the weekend?”

He hesitated for half a moment before he eventually nodded. “Yeah, sounds good, sir.”

“Jack,” Penny’s father corrected with a soft smile. “There’s no rank out here. Just family.” Admiral Benjamin’s eyes then sharply darted to Maverick. “Except for you, Mitchell. You’ll address me properly or else.”

“Dad, please,” Penny laughed with a light head shake and amused eye roll. She patted Mav’s arm sympathetically and murmured something for only his ears.

Jake saw his captain fight off his shit-eating grin at whatever she had said to him.

“Well, Ethan and I are going first then,” Amelia declared a moment later. “You know, on the account that we’re kids being forced to be chaperoned.”

“Mia,” Ethan chided under his breath.

Giving his granddaughter a semi-scolding look. Admiral Benjamin remarked, “One more remark like that, Grandpoppy seed, and I will be driving you home immediately. Is this understood?”

The teenager nodded instantly and kept her head down after that.

Jake glanced around at all of them, though. They were all such a riot at times. But he couldn’t deny that he felt safe around them. Like he could be himself instead of any of his other personas he had crafted out of necessity, thanks to the son of a bitch responsible for his conception. Without knowing it, they were healing scars inside him that he had never thought would knit back together. He couldn’t believe how incredibly lucky he was to have all of them in his life now.

So, honestly, what could a harmless game of mini golf with family hurt, he supposed?

Chapter 5: Par 5

Smiling brightly the day of the Admirals’ Invitational, Jake strode confidently across the green like he had been golfing for decades now. He fixed his collar on his gray polo for what had to be the hundredth time already. There was nothing wrong with his collar, mind you. He just knew it showed off his biceps nicely when he did it, and seeing as how a certain brown-eyed gorgeous man of his, who stole his heart, was watching his every move, Jake had to play it up for the time being.

“You got this, J!” Ethan yelled from the sidelines.

Jake still wasn’t sure how the kid had managed to get himself out of his baseball camp but was damn glad his brother was there to help cheer him on.

“Woo! Knock ‘em dead, Hangman!” shouted several Daggers nearby who came to cheer him on. Or perhaps they were here for laughs more than likely. He’d certainly provide that.

“Remember, Jacob,” his dad murmured for his ears only, “we’re here to have fun. That’s it.”

He glanced at his dad and smiled, readjusting his golf gloves his dad had insisted he wear for ‘better grip’ purposes. Fun. Right. Sure. Just like it had been the other night for their family mini golf.

“Jacob.”

“I know, Dad. Heard you the first time,” he replied, turning to glance into the golf bag to select his club for his first hit of the invitational. It took him a few moments before he found the desired club.

The crowd went quiet to the point where Jake could hear his heart racing uncontrollably.

He reminded himself that this was just like how it had been the other night at mini golf with the family, his family. There was no pressure here, no expectation either. Just a friendly round of golf with his bonus dad, the man who had plucked him from the churning dangerous current and set him on a new path after an accidental phone call years back.

He moved through his check downs like his dad had taught him, electing after a few moments to follow Admiral Benjamin’s advice as well and take a moment to breathe through his nerves.

There was zero pressure here.

Absolutely none.

He was just out golfing with his dad.

Simple as that.

“You’ve got this, Jacob,” his dad murmured from behind. “I believe in you, son.”

Well, he may have had a horrible golf game, but he had a hell of a kickass, loving dad.

Jake glanced down the fairway where he could see the waving yellow flag in the distance.

Here went nothing.

He pulled his club back and swung his first shot.

The small white ball arched beautifully as it curved and sailed through the air before it bounced a few inches from the hole. He had managed to get it on the green on his first shot.

“Hell yeah!” Ethan roared from the crowd.

Jake chuckled, glancing over at the rowdy teenager. Oh, that kid.

“Look out! Hangman’s coming for you all,” the little shit declared next, pointing at him.

It was when he felt Dad’s hand on his shoulder that Jake’s grin widened even further.

“Hell of a nice shot there, son.”

“Thanks. I had a great teacher,” he drawled back, feeling the tightness in his chest loosen further. He didn’t care if he was leaning noticeably further into his dad’s touch in front of everyone. He could feel the pride and unconditional love the old man had for him, and that was everything. He laughed loudly when Cyclone wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tousled his hair playfully.

“Cheeky brat.”

“You know it.” They then started heading towards their golf cart. “Let’s do this.”

Deep down, he knew it was easy for him now solely because he had made a damn good shot. However, his dad was nothing like that bastard JJ Seresin. They weren’t even the same universe as one another. So, he buried his nerves a little further and plowed ahead.

They were just playing a friendly round of father-son golf.

That was all this was, he reminded himself.

The others here were just spectators who’d learn quickly just how awesome his dad was.

The score wouldn’t matter at the end of the day.

Only the feeling of unconditional love he was being showered in would anyone remember here.

---

A little while later, Jake stood back and watched Maverick hit his ball towards Hole 15. They were nearing the finish line, and he honestly couldn’t say who was actually winning the thing. Nor did he really care either. He actually was having quite a bit of fun surprisingly.

Though, when one had their own personal entourage throwing out every encouraging battle cry they could whenever he took a shot, it certainly made it pretty damn easy to lose oneself in the fun of it.

Mav’s ball dropped just on the other side of the pond that separated them from the hole and rolled back a bit down the slight embankment onto the green.

It was a Par 3, so he knew Mav had two more chances at getting this.

He watched his commanding officer head over there by golf cart and turned his back to him at the loud cheers from Penny and Amelia from the sidelines. Jake wasn’t sure who was louder, though: the girls or Ethan.

Waiting until Mav waved back to signal he was finished and clear, he glanced at his dad.

“Well, what do you think?” he asked quietly.

His dad snorted, turning towards him. “Currently? I’m wondering who you sold your soul to.”

“Oh, that’s easy, Dad.” Jake waited until he knew he had his dad hook, line, and sinker. “It’s the US Navy.” He chuckled when his dad scoffed with an amused head shake. It took a second before he noticed Bradley trying to wave him over. “If you’ll excuse me, got to see what my wingman wants.” He jogged over to the sidelines a few moments later. “Hey, sorry, I can’t talk long. My hot man, you see, is a bit of a jealous prick sometimes,” Jake teased Bradley.

“Oh? Is that right? Well, I don’t see him here, do you?”

A moment later, Jake was yanked closer and collided against the solid body in front of him, who had a firm grip on his collar.

“Uh, Roo—”

Bradley shut him up, though, with a rough kiss that Jake nearly blushed over—because what the hell was that? The coarse hairs of Bradley’s mustache brushed against Jake’s upper lip and nose, rubbing a warm red patch into his sensitive skin. When Bradley finally released him, Jake stumbled slightly and blinked back all the deliciously inappropriate thoughts that filthy kiss invoked inside him.

“What? It’s for good luck,” Bradley explained with a familiar Mitchell-like grin as he shrugged.

“Good luck, my ass,” muttered Jake, feeling thrown off kilter now. “You’re trying to sabotage me so Mav and Admiral Benjamin beat us. I see where I rank.” Of all the men he had to fall for—

Bradley’s smile vanished as his eyes widened. “What? No! That’s not—”

Jake turned away, though, hearing the whack of his dad’s ball after Cyclone hit it. He followed the ball as long as he could before he lost it in the sun for half a second. He was instantly reminded of his dogfight with Captain Mitchell . . . of the humble pie he had to swallow later that night when he realized Pops wasn’t going to be like other instructors Jake had studied under. Pops was actually going to teach Jake a thing or two, and he could back up his skill completely. It took another few moments prior to the ball falling just before the hole and somehow rolling in for a hole-in-one shot. It was his dad’s seventh or so by his count. Show off.

“Woo!” shouted Ethan. “Keep kicking their butts!”

Another voice then yelled from the crowd, “Way to go, Dad!”

Jake’s body whirled around, searching for the familiar voice that wasn’t his own or Ethan’s. He knew in his gut that his dad was doing the same. He hadn’t heard that voice in so long.

Sure enough, Cassie Simpson revealed herself a few seconds later, stepping up to the makeshift fence. Jake couldn’t believe his eyes. He hadn’t seen his pseudo-sister in almost a year or so when she came home for Thanksgiving. Cassie was here? He smiled when his dad brushed past him to embrace his only girl tightly, holding her closely like only a loving father could.

“How the hell did you get here?” Jake laughed in utter astonishment, vaguely noticing Bradley slipping back into the crowd and leaving. They’d talk after the game was done then.

“Me?” Cassie shrugged. “Oh, well, you see, Lieutenant Commander Jerkface, there’s these big metal tube-like things called planes that fly now so I hopped onboard one of them the second I heard you were golfing with Dad.”

“But why?” he asked, confused by her answer. His golfing wasn’t anything that warranted a twenty-or-so hour series of flights she’d have to endure to get here. She never seemed to be the type to come watch him (or anyone for that matter) fail at something just to make fun of him either. Why had his golfing with Dad been such a big deal that both of his bonus siblings made it a point to be here?

“Because, dummy, it’s a Simpson tradition, duh.” She then punched Ethan hard in the shoulder.

“Ow!” Ethan rubbed his shoulder where she hit him and frowned.

“Haven’t you been teaching our brother anything while I’ve been away?”

“Seriously, Cass?”

“Oh, please. I barely touched you,” Cassie scoffed loudly before her head turned back to Jake. “Anyway, tradition is that when one of us gets to golf with Dad the first time in this sort of thing, we make sure we get here and cheer whichever sibling it is. It’s corny and cheesy, but it’s a rite of passage. So, of course I’d be here when it was your turn, Jake. Course, I’d have been here sooner, but I ended up missing my flight in Bangkok and had to reroute. Then traffic decided to have a shot at me . . . either way, I’m here now . . . finally.”

“Are you back for long?”

“A few days or so.” She then shooed Jake back out to the course, staying tucked against their dad’s side as Cyclone wasn’t ready it seemed to let her go quite yet.

Jake paused for half a second to select his club before he set up for his next shot.

A rite of passage. That was what Cassie said. It was a Simpson family tradition.

He thought back on all the times his dad had tried to talk to him lately, wondering how many times his dad had tried to explain that to him with Jake focused instead on how bad he was . . . on worrying over embarrassing his dad, which was stupid in hindsight.

He took a few steadying breaths, working through all the possible angles he could use to hit the ball to the green. He was good at the math portion of this whole thing now. It was similar to attack angles just like his dad had said when they first started golfing together.

The rest came down to appeasing the golf gods and hoping for the best.

One could do everything right and still have it all go to shit in the end.

Much like how his relationship with Bradley had gone that first time.

Everything felt perfect, like they were made for each other, only to have it all come crashing down around them and leaving behind their broken hearts in the end.

In the moment, nothing mattered but them. However, in the lull afterwards as reality set in, the realization hit them like 9Gs crashing down on them.

They weren’t ready then for what they had now.

They (like Ethan and Amelia) were in two very different places back then, needing to heal from the deep wounds they shoved away and ignored instead of dealt with.

His mind then wandered naturally back to Bradley’s earlier kiss for him.

What if it was actually for good luck and not a mind game like Jake assumed?

His darling love had seemed genuinely horrified by Jake’s accusation.

Bradley, after all, knew now most of what Jake endured while in the Seresin household. They had talked about it a lot lately. He knew the psychological warfare Jake was forced to survive. So, it didn’t make sense that Bradley would toy with him like that then, did it?

Unless . . .

But that didn’t . . .

His gaze flitted over to Bradshaw, finding the gorgeous brown eyes locked on him. As if Jake was the only person Bradley saw in the sea of people.

Everyone was waiting for Jake’s next move.

His entire family was here. Hell, even Cassie had come from overseas. He knew Jessa and his niece would have come too had he asked them, which he hadn’t. It was bad enough that he’d be embarrassing himself in front of the Brass and his family. If his sister-in-law and niece had been here, he wasn’t sure how he’d react.

There then was also the fact that Bradley’s whole family was here, too.

Their second chances at having a family they never thought they’d have.

Their doting, proud bonus dads.

Their come-hell-or-high-water supportive siblings.

A thought nagged Jake in the back of his mind.

The powerful moment they were living now was overwhelming the more he thought about it.

And yet . . .

Well, he had promised when he returned he’d ask Bradley, hadn’t he?

And he was a man of his word.

Always.

If life was teaching him anything lately, it was how nothing was guaranteed in life.

The odds had been stacked against them for the Uranium Mission.

It had taken miracles to pull that whole thing off from start to finish and so many prayers.

Same went for his mission that he nearly hadn’t returned from.

He and Bradley had time still, which wasn’t something everyone could say, he knew. It had been a frequent thought repeating in his mind these days.

“Jacob?”

Glancing at his dad and noticing the concerned gaze, Jake forced a smile and shook his head silently. Right. It was his turn again. He was holding everyone else up.

He still had no idea who was winning this whole golf thing, but he still didn’t care either.

Neither had his dad.

Nor had Ethan and definitely not Cassie.

They showed up for him. To be there to watch their brother follow in their familial traditions. To support him no matter what.

Without thought, he whacked his ball hard, whirling away from it to find Bradley’s eyes still locked on him. His hand flew to his pocket in longing and regret.

“Show off!” Amelia yelled at him with a wide grin that rivaled Pops’s some days.

He turned back in confusion, wondering what she was going on about. He had been sure he had sliced it into yet another stupid sandpit. What exactly was he showing off?

Cassie then shouted, “I thought you sucked?!”

Huh? He did. He couldn’t explain why he was hitting pretty close to par on most holes today. At first, he thought it was because everyone kept yelling out their loud words of encouragement to him, making sure he knew they were there for him no matter what. But now . . .

His eyes glanced upwards to find his ball, catching a lone dancing ray of sunshine peeking out behind the clouds overhead and showing brief seconds of a fiery sunset hidden behind the slowly approaching rain clouds.

He was reminded of the day of his graduation ceremony at the Academy in that moment. Of the day years later when he met that mustached hothead he loved so much walk into his TOPGUN classroom. Of the day last year after they made it home from the Uranium mission.

Well, he couldn’t ask for a much more perfect day than this, now could he?

Only . . . he had been an absolutely certifiable idiot and forgot the damn ring on his dresser.

“Jacob.”

His shoulders slumped before he turned to look at Cyclone.

“Yeah, Dad?” he replied. He hadn’t meant to worry the old man. At the familiar stunning sparkle of something in the palm of his dad’s hand, though, Jake blinked in puzzlement. What was that? Finally, it dawned on him what he was seeing. His dad was holding a ring, and not just any ring, the ring.

“I believe you’ll be needing this,” his dad declared with a knowing smile.

How? What?

Ethan supplied that answer a moment later, now standing to Jake’s right side. “As if we’d let you down, J, and let you leave it on the dresser. Now, go on. Go ask before he can. Cause you didn’t hear it from us, but—”

“—he’s planning on asking after you play your last hole,” Cassie revealed in a stage-whisper on Jake’s left.

He glanced across the way to where he saw Rooster standing along the sidelines waiting with Mav and Penny and their small family as they all watched Admiral Benjamin take his next shot.

“Do you think—”

“—not in the slightest,” his dad finished with a gentle smile. “I’m fairly certain they’re all instead waiting expectantly for Mitchell to get his head out of his ass and ask her the question he should have asked ages ago.”

Maybe Jake shouldn’t then. He didn’t want to take away from something that was decades in the making from what he knew. He could put it off until the moment was all his and Bradley’s, he supposed.

“Jacob,” his dad calmly said, placing his hands on Jake’s shoulders in an offer to give him something to ground himself to. “You needn’t concern yourself over that.”

He argued back, “But I don’t want to ruin their—”

His dad waved his words away, though. “You couldn’t possibly.” He had spoken with such conviction that Jake had no choice but to believe that his dad was right. “Not to mention,” his dad continued, “considering how poorly Mitchell’s been playing thus far added with the frequent frantic pats to his front pocket, I would hazard a guess that she once again stole the ring box from him earlier, and he’s currently now wondering where the hell he lost it at.”

She stole her engagement ring? Seriously?

“Why would she do that?”

Didn’t she want Mav to ask her to marry him?

“Because she can for one,” scoffed his dad. “And, for two, she has severe control issues and thinks she knows best for everyone all the time,” commented Cyclone dryly. “She’s taken it several times previously and nearly given him a heart attack each time she has. However, cast that nonsense from your mind. This is your time, son.”

The What-Ifs were strong inside Jake, though. He couldn’t brush them off like usual. They were as incessant as a mosquito in search of its next meal on a deserted island.

“What if he says no?” he finally asked, keeping his voice low and hushed.

“Then he is a dumbass and does not at all deserve you, Jacob.”

“Excuse you! Language, Dad!” teased Ethan and Cassie, snickering like absolute fiends when they both got matching light head slaps from their dad.

Jake couldn’t help but laugh. They were absolutely insane, and he loved them all the more for it. His eyes then trailed down to the ring he was holding tightly in his hand and sighed silently.

He couldn’t ask for a better moment than now.

If Cassie and Ethan were right and Bradley planned on asking at the 18^th hole, then Jake needed to hurry the hell up and ask before his feathery love could take flight off the perch.

“It’s your turn, Simpson,” someone announced a moment later.

Yes, yes it was.

Jake glanced over at Penny and Maverick before he inhaled deeply.

He wouldn’t let Bradley and him follow in their path. He wouldn’t wait even a second longer as that felt too unbearable to endure at this point.

He took off in a dead sprint towards Bradley, pushing himself through the pain in his side that reminded him that he was supposed to be taking it easy not running.

“Bradshaw!”

Bradley jumped minutely before his brows furrowed in obvious confusion.

“Yeah? What is it?”

Panting and sweating profusely, Jake, however, dropped to a knee in front of him instead, watching the shock bleed into those gorgeous brown eyes of Bradley’s.

“You infuriate me to the point where I want to throttle you at times” –okay, not as flowery and romantic as Jake envisioned, but he was certainly speaking from the heart— “yet I know I couldn’t live a single day on this godforsaken planet without seeing your stupid mustache that rubs friction burns against my lips every time we kiss and those preposterous doe-eyed brown eyes of yours; without hearing your ridiculous name that makes me severely question your parents’ sanity because who the hell willingly names their child Bradley Bradshaw;” a few soft laughs filtered into Jake’s mind as he focused completely on the man before him “without telling you how much I love you—even when you’re being a hot-headed dumbass who doesn’t think at all before he does some reckless, idiotic thing and who always has to throw himself into the line of fire because he thinks his sole purpose in life is to save everyone else which in turn causes me to save your stupid self from whatever harebrained thing you tangle yourself up in this time because we all know I will always pull you back from the fiery depths of Hell and save you no matter what tries to stop me because a second without you is a second I could not bear to live without you.”

“Uh . . .”

Eloquent as usual.

Jake managed to push the ring up to where Bradley could see him holding it between his thumb, index finger, and middle finger.

“All that to say . . . marry me, Bradley Mitchell Bradshaw, and give me the highest honor you could of being your partner in this crazy ass life of ours and in all our next ones, too. What do you say? Ready to hop off your perch of perpetual bachelorhood and marry your incredibly hot wingman?”

“Incredibly hot wingman?” scoffed back Bradley. He then grimaced sharply when Amelia kicked him hard in the shin with a pointed death glare that Jake knew she 100 % inherited from her mother. A second later, his handsome chicken declared with a loving, dopey smile, “I’d love to.”

Jake leapt to his feet at once before he hugged Bradley tightly in his arms, kissing his lips messily as he grinned from ear to ear and slid the simple engagement ring up Bradley’s ring finger.

The small number of Daggers in attendance cheered wildly, only to be shushed seconds later by several golfers who were waiting for their turns.

“Hurt my brother, Bradshaw, and we’ll kill you,” Jake heard Ethan threaten Bradley as he congratulated them in his own way a moment later.

“Or, mostly likely, brutally maim you,” commented Cassie with a polite smile on her face. “Hiding dead bodies where others won’t find them gets rather tedious after a while, you know?”

Jake snorted, shaking his head. Oh, those rascally kids.

Bradley nodded blankly back, however, clearly unsure how to take their threats.

“Does all this nonsense mean you’ve finally given up and conceded defeat yet again, Beau?” asked nearby an older admiral whose name escaped Jake’s memory. “There’s no shame if it does. We can’t all be winners after all.”

“Hey, Josh,” Penny cut in before Cyclone could even open his mouth. Her voice was sickly sweet and sent off major alarm bells.

Jake almost felt sorry for the admiral.

“Was that your wife I saw the other night at Malvado’s? If so, I have to ask her what her skin care regime is the next time I see her because, wow! She looked like she was some twenty-something sorority girl you picked up for the night.”

Jake caught the older man’s face turn stark white at Penny’s words. Oof, that was brutal.

Josh mumbled something under his breath, then fled to his golf cart and headed to the next hole. Most everyone else did the same, except for the Daggers, Simpson and Benjamin families.

“Wait. What? Pen, when the hell were you at Malvado’s?” asked Mav a few moments later, breaking the uncomfortable silence that followed in the wake.

Penny let out a quiet laugh, resting her head atop of Mav’s shoulder as she grasped his hand.

“Oh, honey. I love you.”

“No, I’m serious, sweetheart. When the hell did you go to Malvado’s? And why did you go without me? You know how much I love Malvado’s!”

Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes before she said, “Pete, honey, I drive past Malvado’s to come home, remember? I promise I would never willingly cheat you out of Malvado’s.”

“Not even, though, I said that Darkstar was—”

“Mitchell,” sharply barked out Admiral Benjamin with a deep frown.

Jake watching his commanding officer startle slightly before Mav snapped to attention.

“Uh, yes, sir?”

“Just shut up already.”

“Aye-aye, sir.”

Penny kissed Maverick’s cheek, smiling sympathetically at him as everyone else laughed.

Notes:

Hello, lovelies.

Had to give credit here where it’s due and realized I forgot to include it originally when I posted. The idea about golfing with Cyclone being a big family tradition came from redfurrycat over on Tumblr.

Chapter 6: Par 6

Notes:

As always, thank you so much for reading.

---

The following night, Jake sat on the back deck at his dad’s house, listening to the waves that filtered through the quiet of the night. On his ring finger was a slender silver ring that Bradley had given him in return shortly after he said yes to marrying Jake with the joke that they now had a matching set. He had found himself staring at the band many times since he had received it, feeling a rare moment of tranquility inside that he had not felt since Justin had been alive if he were honest.

At the gentle, familiar hand to his shoulder a moment later, he glanced up and smiled softly.

“May I join you?” asked his dad.

“Sure.” He watched his old man sit down beside him in one of the patio chairs. He had meant to talk to his dad earlier than now, but time had slipped away unfortunately after the end of the golf game. The Daggers had whisked Bradley and him off to the Hard Deck to celebrate their engagement. “Sorry we didn’t finish the round,” he apologized.

“There’s no need for apologies. Playing fifteen holes with my son was more than enough for me, Jacob. There was no need to push it for the full eighteen right away. It was more than I honestly thought we’d do to tell you the truth.”

“Really?”

His dad nodded. “I envisioned us politely removing ourselves from play back on the ninth as was the case last year with your brother.”

“Ethan didn’t finish either?”

Jake hadn’t ever actually gone to the Admirals’ Invitational before this year. He had always made lame excuses so as not to ruin anything. God, he had been an idiot, hadn’t he? Then again, that was what he got for assuming things instead of straight up asking and being honest with his dad.

Yesterday had been one of the best days he had had since his return from last mission.

Cassie, who had overheard Jake and their dad from the door, revealed quietly, “None of us have ever actually finished a game. We always left early for some reason or another.”

“You’ve never finished?” Jake glanced at his dad in surprise.

No one had told him that little nugget of knowledge. However, he wasn’t sure if anyone had told him if it would have made a bit of a difference. He had been so convinced his dad would be embarrassed by his terrible golf game. That the old man would write him off over it, disown him outright like Jake had been by JJ years back.

Because JJ had known how terrible Jake was at golf.

And instead of encouraging Jake like Cyclone had, JJ belittled him, beat him down further. Reiterated yet again how JJ had wished it had been Jake, not Justin, who had died in the car accident. Because JJ and Justin had won the invitational many times when his brother had been alive. Destroyed the competition if Jake remembered his brother’s recounts correctly.

“Only when I’ve played with Jack have I ever finished,” admitted his dad with a soft, sheepish smile. “Hence why I never wanted you to feel too much pressure about it, Jacob. I truly only wanted to play as long as you’d want to. However, I must say, seeing you ask the late Lieutenant Bradshaw to marry you was a welcomed surprising ending to our fun.”

“You’re not upset we didn’t finish?”

“Of course not. While I’m glad to see how much your golf game has improved lately, I’m more thrilled to have been there to witness you take your next steps in your budding relationship. Marriage is a wonderous occasion and definite cause for celebration.”

“Even if we’re not going to have some fancy Catholic wedding?”

“Yes, even then, Jacob,” replied Cyclone with an amused snort. “I am so blessed to have you kids in my life. To be able to witness as you all grow into responsible, mature adults. To see you fall in love and become these amazing individuals that I am proud to call my children.”

“There you go, being sappy again, old man,” Jake muttered through a quiet, subdued laugh.

“I mean every word, Jacob. I am damned lucky to have you in my life. To be your dad. All of you kids are my pride and joy, and I hope you all know that.”

“We do,” confirmed Cassie, giving her dad a brief sideways hug before she sat on the swing. “We may give you crap, Jake, but Ethan and I are glad to call you our brother. You’re our bonus brother, and we’re so glad to have you with us like Dad said.”

“Damn,” Jake blew out with a hesitant laugh. “I’m not going to turn into this sappy person like all of you now, too, am I?”

“Sorry to say, but, yep, it’s the Simpson family curse,” Cassie teased, laughing at her dad’s mock glare directed at her. “Better get used to it.”

“Fair enough.” He smiled back at her, grateful she had been able to be here for him. His gaze darted to their dad a moment later. “Hey, did Penny ever give Mav back his ring, do you know?”

“Shortly after you asked Lieutenant Bradshaw, yes. She managed to sneak it back into his pocket without his noticing. From what I gathered, she decided against allowing Mitchell to ask after she heard that her stepson was planning to ask you after the last hole. She didn’t want to take away from your moment.”

“But she is going to let him ask her sometime soon I hope, right?” asked Cassie quietly. “I’ve never seen her so happy before as she was yesterday with Captain Mitchell.”

Jake had to agree with that assessment.

“Perhaps someday she’ll change her mind,” commented their dad. “For now, she seems content with just enjoying this time she has with him.”

“She did mention once how she was hoping Pops would wear a gray three-piece suit if they ever married,” Jake stated, wondering if she had ever told their dad the same thing during their frequent talks.

Cyclone shook his head with a quiet laugh. “Many have tried and failed, you two. The best any of us can do is focus our efforts on you and Lieutenant Bradshaw instead and let her and Captain Mitchell work it out on their own time. Is that understood?”

“Fine,” Cassie sighed. “But what’s going on with Ethan, though? Is he actually serious about his being with Amelia? Or is this just him confused?”

“He seems genuine in his interest as far as I can see,” Cyclone answered.

Jake decided to step in here as well. “I can vouch that he’s definitely interested in her. They get along pretty well, and they’ve got a rather adorable push and pull type of relationship between them. But he’s also realizing that they’re in different places in their life and knows he has to be mindful of it.”

“So, it’s not just a harmless boyhood crush?” Cassie questioned.

“Maybe at first, but he cares a lot for her from what I’ve seen so far. He’s willing to step in when need be and protect her if he has to . . . even if that’s from herself.”

Cassie shook her head. “In other words, I leave you three alone, and my two dumb brothers end up falling head over heels in love. I can’t leave you three alone, can I?” Her tone was semi-teasing. “Well, I’m home now so I suppose I’ll have to get used to the dorks in love phase.”

“And we’re very glad you’re home, Cassie,” Cyclone murmured, giving her a soft paternal smile. “In fact, of all the ways I envisioned this day, I couldn’t have asked for a better ending.”

“So corny and sappy!” Cassie and Jake both teased their dad playfully.

“Yet no one ever believes us when we tell them how undeniably sappy you are,” declared Ethan as he finally joined them out back as well. “They all think we’re lying or insane.”

“Some family secrets are worth taking to a grave,” their dad commented dryly.

“Yeah, like, for example, how bad J is at golf.” His cheeky brother ducked with loud, roaring laughter the second Jake attempted to hit the brat.

Stretching his legs, however, was exactly what Jake needed, he realized a moment later at the feel of instant relief he felt. He had been sitting too long and was stiffening up. Somedays he envied his pseudo-siblings. He really did. They had it easy for now.

He gave Ethan and Cassie both a quick sideways hug before he patted his dad’s shoulder with a quiet laugh.  “See you all tomorrow.” He went back into the house, heading to his room, only to stop in the entrance of the living room when he saw the new addition to the mantel where the empty space had been for the past few months.

In a silver frame was a photo taken yesterday of him, Cassie, Ethan, and Dad all posing together at the Admirals’ Invitational. He and Dad were holding their clubs at their sides in matching poses with Cassie and Ethan in front. They were all smiling and looking extremely happy. Upon closer inspection, he saw the sparkle of his ring Bradley had given him not even five minutes before this photo was taken. Surprisingly, Jake saw Bradley himself in the background having photo bombed them.

Admiral Benjamin really did take amazing photos.

“Our best photo as a family yet,” his dad declared behind him, having followed Jake inside.

“And so much better than some crappy dust-collecting trophy, too,” quipped Cassie and Ethan, grinning from ear to ear at Jake.

“Damn straight it is,” Jake grinned widely.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 8 of Cyclone's Kids