by Cheryl Wyatt
Tears sprang to her eyes as she clutched the phone to keep from saying it. Why couldn’t she just tell him how she felt? Was she afraid he found her too annoying after all, too much of a chatterbox? Did she fear he’d changed his mind?
“We’re meeting at two at the usual place. You know, in case you decide to go. Well, it seems I’m rambling. Good to hear your voice, even if only by answering machine. I’ve missed it. Missed you. ’Bye.”
Chloe slammed her phone shut and groaned. Midnight stood to attention. Chloe dropped her head to the table and bumped her forehead against the wood.
She raised her face and groaned again.
Midnight’s head cocked sideways.
“I know, boy. And yes, you’re right. I’m going crazy. Crazy in love and crazy without him. And after that bumbling, rambling, desperate-sounding message, there’s no way he’ll show. No way on earth.”
Images flashed through Chloe’s mind of her showing off her best tricks in front of her dad and him growing annoyed. If her own dad, a pastor and supposed master at doling out grace, couldn’t put up with her boisterous, attention-starved nature, there was no way a quietly observant, highly disciplined military icon like Chance could.
“What did he see in me anyway?”
Clearly, she’d just made a complete fool of herself on the phone. He’d be a fool to show. If he did, it would likely be only because he felt sorry for her.
“He’ll be a no-show, buddy. I know he will. And I don’t blame him. But I had to at least try, ya know?”
Chloe drew a breath and hauled out her paperwork. She’d worked on it late into the night and still couldn’t reconcile how to get past Steele and Bunyan.
It seemed since stepping foot inside Refuge she’d slammed into a series of brick walls every which way she turned.
God’s way isn’t the easy way. The thought came unbidden, but there it was.
“Midnight, do you suppose that’s true? Am I exactly where I need to be? Or have I seriously missed the boat?”
She flipped on the radio to listen for weekend weather forecasts. A local Christian radio announcer’s voice wafted through her living room, stopping her cold and warming her heart. The message riveted her to the spot.
“Congratulations if you’re enduring hardship. Deciphering God’s will through circumstance is one of the most difficult ways to hear God’s voice. But getting to know Him, and His voice, will be worth it in the end.”
The program ended and Chloe readied Midnight for a bath. A dreaded task considering he fought her every step of the way. For a moment she considered bopping down the board-walk and asking Brock for help with the big dog, who would undoubtedly wrestle his way out of her tub before he was clean and free of soap.
She went to the window and didn’t see his sports car, which could mean he’d gone to work out with Chance.
Chance. Her heart melted and stung at the same time.
Then she remembered that she hadn’t seen Brock’s car all week. Not that she was trying to catch glimpses of Chance or anything. Ha!
She returned to the bathroom. Midnight was nowhere to be found, customary when tub-filling time came.
“I know all your hiding places by now, buddy. Don’t fight me on this. You’re stinky and this bath is overdue.”
She checked the water. Adjusted the temperature and thought about the radio message that seemed directly targeted at her.
“Thank You for being so gracious to remind me. I don’t know how I so easily forget that everything in life points to the chief end of knowing You better. And the more I get to know You, the more I wish I’d known You sooner. I want to be in a place where I really, really know You, Lord. Even if I have to go through hard things to get there, You’re worth it.”
Tears dripped into the water and she grabbed a tissue. Thumping sounded in the living room. Either Midnight forgot he was supposed to be hiding, or he needed to go out and was whomping his whale of a tail on the door.
She stepped out of the bathroom and tumbled over a huge, black unmovable blob surrounded by hundreds of puffy, floating white things.
“Argh!” She caught herself as the wall flew toward her. “Midnight! Why did you shred my favorite feather pillow? Ugh.” She knew bath retaliation when she saw it.
“What are you sitting here in the hall for?” He licked her knees as she rose. “Furthermore, if you’re here instead of hiding, who’s at the door? And why didn’t you bark?”
She headed to answer it. Midnight followed, panting.
“Could be an intruder and you’d lick them to death.”
Chloe opened the door.
And gasped.
The most fearsome-looking, but cutest Rambo she’d ever seen stood on the other side.
Chance had never seen a more welcome sight. After Chloe had left him that message a bit ago, he had to come see her. He hadn’t even taken time to change out of his camo.
Even his face was still covered in war paint from playing air gun games at the DZ, the PJs’ treat to the recruits for making it through a week of grueling training.
He smiled because he’d heard her griping at the dog on the way to the door. He’d never tire of Chloe’s extroverted nature or extreme talkativeness.
Her face filled with shock and awe.
“Hi, Chloe.” He grinned.
Her eyes widened. “Oh, hi. Come on in.” She stepped aside. “Wow, you look, uh, rather scary.”
“I just got home. I’ve been on a training op all week.” He stepped in.
She averted her gaze. “Oh, Ivan didn’t mention it.”
“Probably didn’t want you to worry.”
“I’m getting ready to give Midnight a bath. You could help me if you want. He’s really a booger when it comes to bubbles.”
The dog eyed Chance carefully, then cowered behind Chloe. Chance laughed.
“See? I’d be the one fending off an intruder. He’s one big chicken.”
At that word, Chance’s face changed. He studied her intently, then knelt to pet Midnight. “I know the feeling.”
“So, wow. You really are a top-notch soldier.”
He grinned. “Airman.”
“Airman? Okay, so Air Force dudes are Airmen. You really have guns and everything?”
“Not on me, but yes. I have weapons.”
“Wow. I’d like to see them sometime. Unless of course it’s illegal or something, with your top secret status.”
He grinned. “Special Operations.”
“Got it. Well, I’ll eventually learn the terminology, you know, because what you do is important to me, well, because you’re important to me, and I want to know more about your life, and—I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”
Chance stepped closer. She was talking even more rapid-fire than usual. He gauged her body language.
Nervous.
He smiled and stepped closer.
She took an involuntary step backward.
“So here you are, coming to my rescue again. You have perfect timing because he’s a brute when it comes to being bathed, and I normally am the one to get drenched, and he never really gets clean because he’s so big and I’m so—”
“Beautiful.” Chance pulled her close and kissed a period onto the end of her anxiety-induced marathon run-on sentence.
After another lingering kiss, she broke off and peered into his eyes. “I didn’t know when I’d see you again.”
“I was on an unplanned training op. I couldn’t call for various reasons, one being my personal cell drowned in a river mishap and died. It’s now in the shop.”
“Okay.” She pressed her lips together as though to keep from chattering.
He grew quiet too. They stared at one another silently for an endless moment, then Chance cleared his throat. “When I get nervous, I tend to clam up.”
“That’s okay,” she whispered. “When I get nervous, I’ll talk enough for both of us.”
“Which means we’d make a great team.”
Her eyes blinked rapidly, scared to believe.
“I got your message from earlier.”
“How?” Her lips compressed together as though determined to listen more than talk.
“I programmed calls to forward to my military phone. And for the record, I’ve missed you too.”
“Will you come fishing with us tomorrow?”
He tried not to stiffen. “I don’t know.”
“Thanks for being honest.”
“Always.” He stepped back and looked down her hallway. Midnight lapped up water from the hall tiles. Chance’s body tensed and he bolted past her. “Heads up. Bathwater’s running over.” He sped there and shut off the faucet.
“Oh, man! It’s all your fault.” She laughed. “You look amazing in uniform, and all that camouflage and face paint distracted me from my tub-filling, dog-washing mission.”
He grinned and tugged on Midnight. “Come on, boy. Let’s get this over with.”
Midnight got the most pathetic look on his face and whined as Chance and Chloe slid his stubborn seat across the wet tile and into the bathroom. All four legs skittered in a last-ditch effort to flee.
They laughed and slipped and slid as Midnight tried to scramble up and run away from them and especially the tub.
“Why’s he so scared of it?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Think someone abused him with hot water or something?”
Chloe’s face looked stricken. “I’m not sure. How did you know he was abused?”
“You rescue at-risk animals. I saw the scars on his neck one day you came to Dad’s. Two plus two…”
“Maybe we shouldn’t bathe him then. I hate to bring back bad memories if someone did try to burn him with water or drown him.” She looked terribly distraught.
Downplay, downplay. He never should have opened his trap. “Many dogs are simply frightened of water.”
“But he’s a water retriever and he certainly had no problem going in the other day to bring back the branch that almost caused me to drown,” she said with a laugh.
Chance laughed too. That’s one of the many things he loved about her, that she could laugh at herself and that she didn’t take herself or anything else too seriously. “True. Maybe it’s just the tub. But he’ll eventually learn that we’re not going to harm him and that baths can be pleasant.”
“We?”
His cheeks warmed. “Yeah. I plan to help you with him as much as possible.”
“I’m being too chatty. Aren’t I?”
“No.” He laughed and bent to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. “The water’s getting cold.”
But not his feet.
“I have an idea.” Chance tossed three of Midnight’s rubber balls in the tub.
Midnight shot forward to retrieve but stopped at the edge of the tub and made throaty noises. He slashed desperately disgruntled eyes at Chance and barked at the water before panting playfully.
“I don’t think he’s traumatized by the tub. I think he simply doesn’t like taking a bath.” He believed it too.
“C’mon, boy. Time to get it over with.” They pulled Midnight over the edge. He splashed violently. Chance wrapped arms around his neck and spoke soothing words in his ear. Midnight calmed to nervous wriggles and finally sat.
So still that Chloe laughed. “Look at his ears. He’s not happy right now. He looks either humiliated or mad.”
Chance chuckled. “He’ll get over it. Long as you give him treats afterward.”
At the word “treats” Midnight’s ears and countenance perked up.
“Soon, buddy. Ya gotta get clean first.”
They began the process of bathing him. True to Chloe’s prediction, the dog split as soon as they got him good and sudsy. Chance grabbed at him as he leaped through his and Chloe’s arms. His body knocked Chloe back as he bolted for the bathroom door. Chance shielded her.
Midnight’s soppy tail slapped Chance’s face and poked his eye on the way out. Chance laughed. “Touché, buddy. I deserved that for not rescuing you from the dreaded bath.”
They rushed after him. Chance got to him first, touch-tackling him in the hall and laughing as Midnight shimmied and shook sudsy water all over everything, including them.
Then he went calmly, willingly, back into the tub.
“Chloe, honest, I think he’s playing. I think he just likes to fling suds all over your walls and knickknacks and stuff.” Chance poured cups of clean water on Midnight until all the bubbles were erased.
“Did you know Celia Pena has a cat she calls Psych?”
Chance laughed. “I did know that. She spoils him but tries to make everyone think she’s not into cats.”
“Did you know Mina’s the cupid posse ringleader and Celia is second-in-command?”
Her baiting him reloaded his confidence ammo. He grinned.
“What’s so funny?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. Tell me about Midnight’s early life.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re avoiding the romance conversation?” Chloe gave Midnight his after-bath treat.
Chance scrubbed her scalp, tousling her hair in the process. “You’re too smart for your own good.” His fingers tingled from the silky strands. He removed his hand and sat on her couch, then smiled because her hair was still mussed when she stepped into the kitchen to pour tea.
“Yum,” he said when she handed him a cup of horrid-smelling stuff, but he was referring to the way her tousled tresses rested in wild waves around her beautiful cheeks, bright eyes and burgundy lips.
Chance concentrated his gaze there, then forced himself to look away. “I missed you, Chloe.” Missed kissing her crazy too. In addition, his deep feelings for her had multiplied exponentially in his absence.
He longed to hold her and not let go.
She might have perceived the direction of his thoughts because her cheeks tinged and she sat farther on the couch from him than usual. Probably good considering the docile Midnight was their only chaperone.
She started chattering, which was just fine with him since his mind had missile-locked in on the way her lips changed shape when she talked rather than on what she was actually saying. He forced himself to listen to her words rather than revel in the mechanics of her mouth.
Wrapped in his paw-print bath towel, Midnight chomped a rawhide bone and nestled contentedly on Chance’s feet.
“Your dad did phenomenal work during his therapy this week.”
“That’s what he said when I got back.”
“He mentioned you’re moving the last of his stuff to Refuge in the morning.”
“Yeah. It’s just coincidence but kind of symbolic that it lined up on the one-year anniversary. But that’s the only day the new owner could meet me at the house. She’s a single mom. The house’ll be a good home for her and her kids. Dad gave her a killer deal on it. He had tons of equity built up.”
“So financially he’s okay?”
“Yeah. I think he’s getting more used to Refuge and starting to think of it as home. Your mom has a lot to do with that.”
Chloe nodded. “Does it bother you too terribly that they’re going fishing tomorrow, of all days?” Her face jerked as though her own words offended her. She smacked a hand on her forehead. “I’m sorry, that was the world’s dumbest question.”
“No, it wasn’t. You’re just being sensitive because you know I’m having a tough time with the idea. I’m glad he has something other than grief to look forward to tomorrow.”
“I’m sure it’ll still be a hard day for both of you.”
“Yeah, but at least he’ll have your mom there to ease it.”
“And you too, you know.”
“Whether I can go will depend on when I get back from bringing the rest of his stuff from St. Louis. Ben offered to drive me and use Manny’s truck to haul stuff. Ben lost his dad a few years back. I think he offered because he sympathizes with me.”
His entire team had offered to help. But w
ith Chance being one to more easily process things quietly, the fewer people around him when he packed away the last of Mom’s stuff, the better.
“If you decide to go fishing with us, let me know and we’ll wait to leave until you get back. I have to meet with the city council again before we can hit the water anyway.”
Chance nodded and hated that his mind marched miles away. He could tell it would mean a lot to Chloe if he’d go. He just needed to get through tomorrow.
Then he could focus on her and him and their programs.
He eyed her finger and thought about the ring he’d purchased in haste but hopefully not in waste. He was sure she was the one he wanted. He’d wait as long as he could. Hopefully, she’d come around. If not, he’d return the ring and donate the money anonymously to her program.
Celia had gotten the ring size for him by getting Chloe to try on her ring.
Chance scratched his cheek and came away with a blackish-green smear on his fingers. Reminded him he was still covered in face paint and fermented combat fatigues.
Chloe didn’t seem to mind. He did, though. If he was starting to be able to smell himself, it had to be bad.
“I’d better get home and shower and rest up. It will be a long day tomorrow.” Long, hard day. He rose reluctantly. Being with her felt like being home. “I should go.”
A sweet layer of thoughtfulness glazed Chloe’s vivid eyes as she stepped forward and rested her hand on his forearm. “I could go with you tomorrow.”
Chance studied her a moment, drinking in her kindness, stilled by her gentle touch. How something so simple could chase the army of dread advancing heavily he didn’t know.
But he had an inkling he’d be at least a mild mess tomorrow, which meant she’d see him weak, and would leave him too vulnerable. Then he saw her swallow hard, causing him to realize that by offering to be there for him she’d advanced into unchartered emotional territory herself.
He’d be a fool to resist or evade it.
His mouth locked up. He stepped close and curled his arm around her, hoping to communicate the gratitude he felt inside.
When words came back to him, he gave her one more squeeze. “Thanks, Chloe. I’d like that.”
For a moment she looked at a loss for what to say, which was so untypical of her that he laughed. It felt good.
