No Going Back

by Karen Foley

  Kate wasn’t there.

  His spirits dipped in disappointment.

  Setting his gear down in the corner, he walked slowly through the rooms, his boots heavy on the wood floors. Everything was the same, yet different. He noted the subtle changes, like the floral rug in the living room that brightened the small space and drew his attention to the fresh flowers on the coffee table and on the fireplace mantel. In the kitchen, a pale green sweater lay draped over the back of a chair. Chase picked it up and carried it to his face, breathing in Kate’s scent.

  Where the hell was she?

  After she’d left Afghanistan, he’d spent hours on the phone and online, persuading her to move to North Carolina and into his beach cottage. It made no sense for the house to sit empty when she could use it, he’d argued. There was a spare bedroom if she didn’t feel comfortable sleeping in his bed. She could use the time to get her web-design business up and running, and if she wanted to find her own place after he returned, he wouldn’t argue. She’d be doing him a favor by looking after the place for him.

  In the end, she’d relented and he’d known a fierce sense of satisfaction in picturing her there, in his house. Sitting on his porch. Using his shower. Maybe even sleeping in his bed.

  Walking down the hallway, he pushed open the door to his bedroom, and gave a huff of disappointed laughter. Definitely not sleeping in his bed. Not yet, anyway. His room was as Spartan as it had been when he had left it more than a year ago. There were no traces of Kate here.

  Closing the door, he continued down the hall to the next room. What had been a sparsely furnished storage and guest room was now a distinctly feminine bedroom. Gone were his Texas Rangers bedspread and the stash of spare army gear he’d kept piled in one corner. The bed now boasted a downy comforter in a floral pattern, and at least a half dozen pillows. More cut flowers stood on the nightstand and dresser, and feminine underclothes lay strewn across the bed and on a nearby chair. A dozen framed photos adorned the walls and he stepped closer to inspect them, seeing they were pictures of Kate and her sister, and even one of a very young Willa Dean holding an infant.

  A work table had been set up against one wall as a makeshift desk. A pile of books and papers surrounded Kate’s laptop, which sat open and blinking. Curious, he tapped the keyboard and the monitor flared into life. He could see she was in the middle of designing a website, and he bent down for a closer look, impressed when he saw her client was a top model.

  Leaving her room, he went into the backyard. Flower beds had been planted near the house, and a new set of outdoor furniture sat beneath a bright patio umbrella. Kate had left a plate and a half-empty glass of lemonade on the table. Chase was getting ready to carry them into the house when he heard the crunch of gravel in the driveway.

  He paused, listening. He heard one car door slam, and then another, followed by the loud barking of an excited dog. Setting the dishes back on the table, he rounded the side of the house to the front yard. He didn’t recognize the gray sedan parked in the driveway, and for a minute he didn’t see anyone. But another excited bark drew his attention to the front porch. A woman stood with her arms around two bags of groceries, while a dog on a leash nearly pulled her off balance. Setting the bags down, she bent to try and quiet the animal, who leaped up and gave her face a happy lick.

  Kate. And she had Charity with her.

  His heart began to pound fast in his chest, and his first instinct was to bound up the stairs and grab her. Instead, he rubbed his palms against his thighs and walked to the bottom of the steps.

  “Kate.”

  She whirled around, but before she could respond, Charity gave a yelp and lunged forward, leaping off the porch and yanking Kate with her. Chase reacted quickly, grabbing the dog and the leash, and extending an arm to catch Kate as she pitched down the steps, the bags of groceries falling out of her arms and spilling across the walkway. She clutched at his shoulders, laughing, as Charity squirmed with delight and tried to lick him anywhere she could reach.

  Keeping an arm around Kate, he crouched down to greet the dog, rubbing her head and ears, and murmuring words of affection to her. When she rolled onto her back, he scratched her belly and then, with a final pat, stood up and pulled Kate into his arms. She gazed up at him, her coffee-dark eyes filled with welcome and an enticing shyness.

  “You’re even more beautiful than I remembered,” he said, his voice husky.

  She flushed and looked down, and then determinedly lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Thank you. I was hoping to have dinner ready for you before you arrived.”

  He trailed the backs of his fingers along her cheekbone. “You think I’m hungry for food?” he growled softly, teasing her. But it took all of his self-restraint not to pick her up and carry her bodily into his bedroom. For six months he’d fantasized about this moment, but he wasn’t going to ruin it by moving too fast.

  Crouching, he scooped pasta and bread and fresh vegetables back into the bags. “How did you manage to bring Charity back?” he asked, reaching out to rub the dog’s ears. He felt an unfamiliar tightening in his throat as he patted the animal. He’d thought he’d never see her again. “I left her with the K-9 unit three months ago, when I had to leave for a mission. When I came back, she was just gone. I was told her owner had come back to claim her.”

  Kate smiled and bent down to retrieve a tomato that had rolled into the grass. “I’m so sorry. I asked them not to tell you. I wanted to surprise you when you came home. Actually, it was Tenley who arranged it all,” she said, on eye level with him. “She heard through Doug that one of the women from the USO was coming back to the States on a commercial flight. Tenley asked if she would be willing to escort Charity, and she said she would. We weren’t sure if we’d have another opportunity like that one, so we just grabbed it.”

  Chase gave a disbelieving laugh. “Wow. That’s amazing. So Tenley and Doug are still together?”

  “They’re married, for keeps this time. He came home about a month ago. She’s taking some time off from touring, and so far they seem to be doing great.”

  “And you and Tenley…?”

  “Also doing great,” Kate assured him, rising to her feet. “In fact, it’s amazing how our relationship has changed, now that I’m not trying to run her life. I finally have the sister I always wanted.”

  “And you and me…?” Chase stood up and threaded his fingers through her silky hair, studying the strands. “How are we doing?”

  Kate stepped closer to him, her hands going to the front of his uniform, where she rubbed her fingers over his embroidered name tag. “Much better, now that you’re home.”

  Home.

  He couldn’t believe how much promise that single word held. Cupping her face in his hands, Chase bent down and kissed her, putting everything he had into it and letting Kate know how he felt. When he finally raised his head, her eyes were shining with unshed tears. “I’ve missed you so much, Chase. I still can’t believe this is real.”

  Chase smiled and tipped his forehead to hers. “What can’t you believe?”

  “All of this. You…being here…finally doing all the things I want to do.”

  “Oh, it’s real,” he assured her. “Let me show you.”

  Without giving her a chance to protest, he swept her into his arms and took the steps to his house two at a time, with Charity following close on his heels. Kate threw her arms around his neck and hung on tight, but he could feel her smiling against his neck. He didn’t pause until he reached his bedroom, where he stopped in the doorway and looked down at the dog. She stared at him with hopeful eyes, her tail wagging.

  “Sorry, girl,” he said, leaving her in the hallway, “but this mission is all mine.”

  Turning toward the bed, he kicked the door closed behind him.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt of Blazing Midsummer Nights by Leslie Kelly!

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  1

  SOMEONE ONCE SAID that the course of true love never did run smooth. As Mimi Burdette watched two of her good friends sway together in a romantic dance, however, she had to disagree. Because the true love between this couple had been obvious to everyone who knew them, almost from the moment they’d met.

  “They look like a prince and princess,” murmured Anna, her neighbor, friend, landlady and tonight’s hostess.

  “Considering the setting, maybe a fairy king and queen.”

  She wasn’t kidding. The woods surrounding the backyard of the old plantation house just outside of Athens had been turned into a mythical forest. As dusk fell and a thousand twinkle lights began to gleam in the night, everyone at the engagement party slowed to appreciate the beauty all around them.

  A trio of musicians softly strummed their instruments, the lyrical notes riding a warm, summer breeze. The Spanish moss hanging from the live oaks gleamed silver under the evening dew and the firefly-soft lighting. Magnolias the size of dinner plates dotted the trees, looking like a thousand full moons, filling the air with their evocative scent. Lanterns hung from the lowest branches of the graceful pines, and the arches of a dozen arbors were draped with writhing, sweet-smelling jasmine and heavily laden grapevines.

  Okay, the vines and fruit were fake. But what an effect!

  “You really outdid yourself,” Mimi said to Anna, who stood watching the proceedings, wearing a smile.

  The older woman, dressed as always in colorful, flowing robes, merely shrugged. “Setting the stage for romance is easy when the people involved are meant for each other like Duke and Lyssa.” She chuckled. “Of course, it didn’t hurt that I’m helping with the costumes and props for the downtown theater group’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

  With her filmy, billowing clothes, and her long ash-gray hair, loose and wavy and entwined with flowers, Anna looked more like a hippie than a retiree. So maybe it wasn’t so surprising that she could take a normal backyard, ringed by normal Georgia woods, and turn it into something out of a storybook.

  “Anyway, it was just a few lights, some fabric—easy.”

  “Maybe for you, but other than advertising, the creative wiring was left out of my genetic code. To me, this looks like pure sorcery and magic.”

  The soon-to-be bride and groom deserved a magical wedding. They were wonderful people, and she already missed having them as neighbors. They’d already moved into their new house, but until a week ago, had lived right across the hall from her own first-floor apartment in this grand old estate home.

  Anna and her husband, Ralph—dubbed Obi-Wan because of his love for all things Star Wars and his sage, all-knowing demeanor—had bought the place decades ago and raised their family here. Once the kids were gone, they’d divided the three-story mansion into six small apartments, figuring the rental income would keep them nicely provided for in their retirement.

  With the unit across from Mimi’s vacant, and another unrented one on the second floor, the big house was feeling empty. Plus, Anna and Obi-Wan’s volatile marriage was on the rocks again. Obi-Wan’s one fault was his jealous streak. He was always accusing other men of being after his wife. His latest accusation had angered Anna enough that she had moved into one of the vacant units to teach him a lesson.

  In this economy, three rentals not bringing in any money was not a good thing. She had to wonder where Anna had come up with the funds to throw this engagement party for her former tenants. Mimi had offered to help pay—she could certainly afford it and would have loved to help—but Anna’s pride wouldn’t allow her to accept. The most she would allow was the use of Mimi’s nice discount on much of the food.

  Sometimes it really paid to be the daughter of the owner of a chain of grocery stores. Not to mention being the head of marketing for said grocery store chain, with an express ticket to the executive offices of her family’s business.

  Some people wondered why she lived here, in a small apartment in an old house, when she could afford to buy her own home, or sponge off her parents at their estate. But Mimi loved this place, loved the history of it. More importantly, she loved the sense of community she found here, where she was free to be herself and didn’t have to wear the socialite hat, or the business executive one. She could just be Mimi.

  “Oh,” Anna said, snapping her fingers as she remembered something. “You’re going to have new neighbors. My daughter, Helen, and her little boy are moving from Atlanta next weekend, taking the vacant unit on two. And I rented the apartment across from yours today.”

  “Really? That’s wonderful,” Mimi said, surprised.

  “I invited the new tenant to come tonight, but he didn’t want to intrude—he moved in this afternoon.”

  “You must be so glad,” she said, relieved to know one financial burden had been lifted from her landlords’ shoulders. She doubted they’d take rent money from their daughter, who had gone through a bad divorce last year.

  “One B is a real hottie,” Anna said, her eyebrows waggling.

  “There are more important things than hotness.”

  Definitely more important. She’d been involved with superhot guys in the past and had the psychological burn scars to prove it. The last supersexy, relied-only-on-his-looks guy she’d dated had ended up “borrowing” her credit card and buying a matching pair of his-and-her motorcycles.

  That had been bad. Worse? Mimi hadn’t been the her.

  No way was she stepping close to the flames again. Now when she looked at a man, she was more interested in steadiness, self-confidence and brains. If those things came in nice-looking packages, okay, but looks alone just didn’t cut it.

  Fortunately, it was possible to have all of the above. She only had to look across the crowded party at her own golden-haired escort to see that.

  Dimitri was perfect. He was everything she’d been telling herself she needed, and was nothing like the men who’d hurt her in the past. He’d also been hand-picked for her by her own father, who was notoriously hard to please. Normally, that would be a bad thing; she didn’t like doing what was expected of her, and knew her father to be a bully. But considering her bad luck with romance, and her efforts to improve her relationship with her dad—who stood firmly in the path of her going where she wanted to go professionally, i.e., right into his office once he retired—it seemed like a smart move.

  The icing on the cake? Dimitri was also very handsome.

  But handsome doesn’t always equal hot. And enjoying being with someone definitely doesn’t always lead to physical heat.

  She sighed deeply, wishing that little voice in her head would shut up, even while acknowledging the words were true.

  But it didn’t matter—handsome was enough. Handsome was movie-star good looks, good manners, holding the door. Handsome was every hair in place, jaw smoothly shaven and a nice suit. Handsome was self-confidence borne of being admired by everyone who knew him, and inspiring fantasies of Prince Charming in just about every woman who saw him. Handsome was a good-night kiss with enough tongue to be provocative but not enough to be impolite.

  Handsome was Dimitri.

  Hot was…something else.

  Hot was sexy, rugged and edgy. Hot was unpredictable. Hot smelled sweaty and male, not doused with expensive cologne. Hot had thick muscles that gave proof of utter strength and could make any woman feel feminine by contrast. Hot had an edge of danger, wasn’
t always courteous, didn’t treat a lover like a fragile object. Hot had a deep voice, knowing eyes and a stubbled jaw that every woman wanted roughing up her inner thighs. Hot would ensnare a woman…mind, body and soul.

  She fanned herself, acknowledging the truth. Handsome she had. Hot she hadn’t seen in a very long time.

  More importantly: handsome she should have. Hot she should stay away from.

  She shook off the mental images. Enough with the hot fantasies. Handsome reality was bringing her a glass of wine, drawing the appreciative stares of every person with a uterus.

  He was hers if she wanted him. And you want him. Damn it, you’d be crazy not to want him!

  But she was beginning to wonder. Heck, she hadn’t even been the one to invite him here tonight. Anna had bumped into him at the store and extended the invitation. Mimi had no idea why he’d accepted, considering he didn’t know anybody here except her. Since he’d said yes, he’d naturally expected Mimi to be his date, which should make any woman extremely happy.

  “Okay, Miss Smarty-Pants, if you’re not about looks, care to explain your date over there?”

  “You invited him,” she pointed out.

  “Only because you’ve gone out with him a few times.”

  “I know, my family swears he’s perfect for me. And he is very good-looking,” she admitted. Then, speaking more to herself, she voiced the concern that had been niggling at her. “But there’s also something called chemistry.”

  “Hate to break it to ya, but you two ain’t got it.”

  She sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Only to an expert like me.”

  And to Mimi. She’d already figured out that good looks didn’t always inspire sparks, and dating someone wasn’t the same as wanting to go to bed with him. If it were, she and Dimitri would probably be sleeping together, or perhaps even engaged, which was what her father was pushing for. Pushing hard.

  Dimitri was a new executive with Burdette Quality Foods, the family business. He was also her Dad’s right-hand man. Cultured, handsome, well-educated. The perfect guy in every way.