Debbie Macomber's Navy Box Set

by Debbie Macomber

  Carol closed her eyes as if her patience was depleted and she was seeking another share. “I couldn’t take any more of your insults, Steve.” Everything he said and did was wrong when it came to Carol. He wanted to explain, but doubted that it would do any good. “My concern was for you. Any husband would have felt the same way, pregnancy or no pregnancy.”

  “You aren’t my husband.”

  “I wanted to be.”

  “That was another insult!” she cried, and a sheen of tears brightened her eyes.

  “My marriage proposal was an insult?” he shouted, hurt and stunned.

  “Yes … no. The offer to leave the Navy was what bothered me most.”

  “Then far be it from me to offend you again.” There was no understanding this woman. He was willing to give up everything that had ever been important to him for her sake, and she threw the offer back in his face with some ridiculous claim. To hear her tell it, he’d scorned her by asking her to share his life.

  The silence stretched interminably. They stood only a few feet apart, but the expanse of the Grand Canyon could have stretched between them for all the communicating they were doing.

  The problem, Steve recognized, was that they were both so battle scarred that it was almost impossible for them to talk to each other. Every word they muttered became suspect. No subject was safe. They weren’t capable of discussing the weather without finding something to fight about.

  “I didn’t come here to argue with you,” Carol said in weary, reluctant tones. “I wanted to thank you for everything you did. I apologize for lying to you—it was a rotten thing to do.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to suggest that he’d gotten accustomed to her lies, but he swallowed the cruel barb. He’d said and done enough to cause her pain in the last couple of years—there was no reason to hurt her more. He would only regret it later. She would look at him with those big blue eyes of hers and he would see all the way to her soul and know the agony he viewed there was of his making. Her look would haunt him for days afterward.

  She turned and started to walk away, and Steve knew that if he let her go there would be no turning back. His heart and mind were racing. His heart with dread, his mind with an excuse to keep her. Any excuse.

  “Carol—”

  Already she was at the front door. “Yes?”

  “I … have you eaten?”

  Her brow creased, as if food was the last thing on her mind. Her gaze was weary as though she couldn’t trust him. “Not yet.”

  “Would you like to go out with me? For dinner?”

  She hesitated.

  “The last time you were at the apartment, you said something about a restaurant you wanted to try close to here,” he said, reminding her. She’d come to his place with a silly button in her hand and lovemaking on her mind. Things had been bad between them then, and had gone steadily downhill ever since.

  She nodded. “The Mexican Lindo.”

  “Shall we?”

  Still she didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  Now it was his turn to nod. He wanted it so much he could have wept. “Yes, I want this,” he admitted.

  Some of the tiredness left her eyes and a gentle smile touched her lovely face. “I want it, too.”

  Steve felt like leaping in the air and clicking his heels. “I’ll be just a minute,” he said hurriedly. He walked into his kitchen and with a quick twist of his wrist, he turned off the oven. He would toss the aluminum meal later.

  For now, he had a dinner date with the most beautiful woman in the world.

  Fifteen

  Elaborately decorated Mexican hats adorned the white stucco walls of the restaurant. A spicy, tangy scent wafted through the dining area as Carol and Steve read the plastic-coated menu.

  Steve made his decision first.

  “Cheese enchiladas,” Carol guessed, her eyes linking with his.

  “Right. What are you going to have?”

  She set aside the menu. “The same thing—enchiladas sound good.”

  The air between them remained strained and awkward, but Carol could sense how desperately they were each trying to ignore it.

  “How are you feeling?” Steve asked after a cumbersome moment of silence. His eyes were warm and tender and seemed to caress her every time he looked in her direction.

  “A thousand times better.”

  He nodded. “I’m glad.” He lifted the fork and absently ran his fingers down the tines.

  “Dr. Stewart asked me to give you his regards,” Carol said in an effort to make conversation. There were so few safe topics for them. “I like him. He’s got a lot of common sense.”

  “The feeling’s mutual—Dr. Stewart couldn’t say enough good things about you.”

  Steve chuckled. “You sound surprised.”

  “No. I know the kind of man you are.” Loving, loyal, determined, proud. Stubborn. She hadn’t spent five years of her life married to a stranger.

  The waitress came to take their order, and returned a couple of minutes later with a glass of milk for Carol and iced tea for Steve.

  “I’m pleased we have this opportunity to talk before I’m deployed,” he said, and his hand closed around the tall glass.

  “When will you be leaving?”

  “In a couple of weeks.”

  Carol nodded. She was nearly six months pregnant now and if Steve was at sea for the usual three, he might not be home when the baby was born. It all depended on when he sailed.

  “I used to hate it when you went to sea.” The words slipped from her lips without thought. She hadn’t meant to make a comment one way or the other about his tour. It was a part of his life and one she had accepted when she agreed to marry him.

  “You hated my leaving?” He repeated her words as though he was certain he’d heard her incorrectly. His gaze narrowed. “You used to see me off with the biggest smile this side of the Mississippi. I always thought you were happy to get me out of your hair.”

  “That was what I wanted you to think,” she confessed with some reluctance. “I might have been smiling on the outside, but on the inside I was dreading every minute of the separation.”

  “You were?”

  “Three months may not seem like a long time to you, but my life felt so empty when you were on the Atlantis.” The first few years of their marriage, Carol had likened Steve’s duty to his sub to a deep affection for another woman who whimsically demanded his attention whenever she wanted him. It wasn’t until later that she realized how silly it was to be jealous of a nuclear submarine. She’d done everything possible to keep occupied when he was at sea.

  “But you took all those community classes,” he argued, breaking into her thoughts. “I swear you had something scheduled every night of the week.”

  “I had to do something to fill the time so I wouldn’t go stir crazy.”

  “You honestly missed me?”

  “Oh, Steve, how could you have doubted it?” He flattened his hands on the table and slowly shook his head. “But I thought … I honestly believed you enjoyed it when I was away. You used to tell me it was the only time you could get anything accomplished.” His voice remained low and incredulous. “My being underfoot seemed to be a detriment to all your plans.”

  “You had to know how I felt, or you wouldn’t have suggested leaving the Navy.”

  Steve lowered his gaze and shrugged. “That offer was for me as much as you.”

  “So you could keep an eye on me—I figured that out on my own. If you held a regular nine-to-five job, then you could keep track of my every move and make sure there wasn’t any opportunity for me to meet someone else.”

  “I imagine you found that insulting.”

  She nodded. “I don’t know any woman who wouldn’t.”

  A heavy silence followed, broken only by the waitress delivering their meals and reminding them that the plates were hot.

  Steve studied the steaming food. “I suppose that was what
you meant when you said my marriage proposal was an insult?”

  Carol nodded, regretting those fiery words now. It wasn’t the proposal, but what had followed that she’d taken offense to. “I could have put it a little more tactfully, but generally, yes.”

  Steve expelled his breath forcefully and reached for his fork. “I can’t say I blame you. I guess I wasn’t thinking straight. All I knew was that I loved … love you,” he corrected. “And I wanted us to get married. Leaving the Navy seemed an obvious solution.”

  Carol let that knowledge soak into her thoughts as she ate. They were both quiet, contemplative, but the silence, for once, wasn’t oppressive.

  “I dreaded your coming home, too,” Carol confessed partway through her meal.

  Steve’s narrowed gaze locked with hers, and his jaw clenched until she was sure he would damage his teeth, but he made no comment. It took her a moment to identify his anger. He’d misconstrued her comments and assumed the worst—the way he always did with her. He thought she was referring to the guilt she must have experienced upon his return. Hot frustration pooled in the pit of her stomach, but she forced herself to remain calm and explain.

  “I could never tell what you were thinking when you returned from a deployment,” she whispered, her voice choked and weak. “You never seemed overly pleased to be back.”

  “You’re crazy. I couldn’t wait to see you.”

  “It’s true you couldn’t get me in bed fast enough, but I meant in other ways.”

  “What ways?”

  She shrugged. “For the first few days and sometimes even longer, it was like you were a different man. You would always be so quiet … so detached. There was so little emotion in your voice—or your actions.”

  “Honey, I’d just spent a good portion of that tour four hundred feet below sea level. We’re trained to speak in subdued, monotone voices. If my voice inflections bothered you, why didn’t you say something?”

  She dropped her gaze and shrugged. “I was so pleased to have you back that I didn’t want to say or do anything to cause an argument. It was such a small thing, and I would have felt like a fool for mentioning it.”

  Steve took a deep breath. “I know what you mean—I couldn’t very well comment on how glad you were to see me leave without sounding like an insecure jerk—which I was. But that’s neither here nor there.”

  “I wish I’d said something now, but I was trying so hard to be the kind of wife you wanted. Please know that I was always desperately lonely without you.”

  Steve took a couple more bites, but his interest in the food had obviously waned. “I can understand why you felt the need for … companionship.”

  Carol froze and a thread of righteous anger weaved its way down her spine. “I’m going to forget you said that,” she murmured, having difficulty controlling her trembling voice.

  Steve looked genuinely surprised. “Said what?”

  Carol simply shook her head. They would only argue if she pressed the subject, and she didn’t have the strength for it. “Never mind.”

  Her appetite gone, she pushed her plate aside. “You used to sit and stare at the wall.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Steve was finished with his meal, too, and scooted his plate aside.

  “When you came home from a tour,” she explained. “For days afterward, you hardly did a thing. You were so detached.”

  “I was?” Steve mulled over that bit of insight. “Yes, I guess you’re right. It always takes me a few days to separate myself from my duties aboard the Atlantis. It’s different aboard the sub, Carol. I’m different. When I’m home, especially after being at sea several weeks, it takes time to make the adjustment.”

  “You’re so unfeeling … I don’t know how to explain it. Nothing I’d say or do would get much reaction from you. If I proudly showed off some project I’d completed in your absence, you’d smile and nod your head or say something like ‘That’s nice, dear.’”

  Steve grinned, but the action revealed little amusement. “Reaction is something stringently avoided aboard the sub, too. I’m an officer. If I panic, everyone panics. We’re trained from the time we’re cadets to perform our duties no matter what else is happening. There’s no room for emotion.”

  Carol chewed on the corner of her lower lip.

  “Can you understand that?”

  She nodded. “I wish I’d asked you about all this years ago.”

  “I didn’t realize I behaved any differently. It was always so good to get home to you that I didn’t stop to analyze my behavior.”

  The waitress came and took away their plates.

  “We should have been honest with each other instead of trying to be what we thought the other person wanted,” Carol commented, feeling chagrined that they’d been married five years and had never really understood each other.

  “Yes, we should have,” he agreed. “I’m hoping it isn’t too late for us to learn. We could start over right now, determined to be open and honest with each other.”

  “I think we should,” Carol agreed, and smiled. Steve’s hand reached across the table for hers. “I’d like us to start over in other ways, too—get to know each other. We could start dating again the way we did in the beginning.”

  “I think that’s a good idea.”

  “How about walking down to the waterfront for an ice-cream cone?” he suggested after he’d paid the tab.

  Carol was stuffed from their dinner, but did not want their evening to end. Their love had been given a second chance, and she was grabbing hold of it with both hands. They were wiser this time, more mature and prepared to proceed cautiously.

  “Are you insinuating that I need fattening up?” she teased, lacing her fingers with his.

  “Yes,” he admitted honestly.

  “How can you say that?” she asked with a soft laugh. She may have lost weight with the surgery, but the baby was filling out her tummy nicely, and it was obvious that she was pregnant. “I eat all the time now. I didn’t realize how sick I’d been and now everything tastes so good.”

  “Cherry vanilla?”

  “Ooo, that sounds wonderful. Double-decker?”

  “Triple,” Steve answered and squeezed her hand.

  Lacing their fingers like high-school sweethearts, they strolled down to the steep hill toward the waterfront like young lovers eager to explore the world.

  As he promised, Steve bought them each huge ice-cream cones. They sat on one of the benches that lined the pier and watched the gulls circle overhead.

  Carol took a long, slow lick of the cool dessert and smiled when she noted Steve watching her. “I told you I’ve really come to appreciate my food lately.”

  His gaze fell to the rounded swell of her stomach. “What did Dr. Stewart have to say about the baby?”

  Carol flattened her hand over her abdomen and glowed with an inner happiness that came to her whenever she thought about her child. “This kid is going to be just fine.”

  He darted his gaze away as though he was uncomfortable even discussing the pregnancy. “I’m pleased for you both. You’ll be a good mother, Carol.”

  Once more frustration settled on her shoulders like a dark shroud. Steve still didn’t believe the baby was his. She wasn’t going to argue with him. He was smart enough to figure it out.

  “Do you need anything?” he surprised her by asking next. “I’d be happy to do what I can to help. I’m sure the medical expenses wreaked havoc with your budget, and you’re probably counting on that income to buy things for the baby. I’d like to pitch in, if you’d let me.”

  His offer touched her heart and she took a minute to swallow the tears that burned the back of her eyes at his generosity.

  “Thank you, Steve, that means a lot to me, but I’m all right financially. It’ll be tight for a couple of months, but nothing I can’t handle. I’ve managed to save quite a bit over the past year.”

  He stood, buried his hands in his pockets and walked along the edge of the pier. C
arol joined him, licking the last of the ice cream off her fingertips.

  Steve looked down and smiled into her eyes. “Here,” he said and used his index finger to wipe away a smudge near the corner of her mouth.

  He paused and his gaze seemed to consume her face. His eyes, so dark and compelling, studied her as if she were some angelic being and he was forbidden to do anything more than gaze upon her. His brow compressed and his eyes shifted to her mouth. As if against his will, he ran his thumb along the seam of her lower lip and gasped softly when her tongue traced his handiwork. He tested the slickness with the tip of his finger, slowly sliding it back and forth, creating a delicate kind of friction.

  Carol was filled with breathless anticipation. Everything around them, the sights, the sounds, the smells of the waterfront, seemed to dissolve with the feeling. He wanted to kiss her, she could feel it with every beat of her heart. But he held back.

  Then, in a voice that was so low, so quiet, it could hardly be counted as sound, he said, “Can I?”

  In response, Carol turned and slipped her arm around his neck. His eyes watched her, and a fire seemed to leap from them, a feral glow that excited her all the more.

  She could feel the tension in him, his whole body seemed to vibrate with it.

  His mouth came down on hers, open and eager. Carol groaned and instinctively swayed closer to him. His tongue plunged quickly and deeply into her mouth and she met it greedily. He tasted and teased and withdrew, then repeated the game until the savage hunger in them both had been pitched to a fevered level. Still his lips played over hers, and once the urgent need had been appeased, the kiss took on a new quality. His mouth played a slow, seductive rhythm over hers—a tune with which they were both achingly familiar.

  He couldn’t seem to get enough of her and even after the kiss had ended, he continued to take short, sweet samples of her lips, reluctant to part for even a minute. Finally he buried his head in the curve of her neck and took in short raspy breaths.

  Carol surfaced in slow, reluctant degrees, her head buzzing. She clung to him as tightly as he held on to her.