“Actually, he’s got a job interview in Memphis with Fed Ex. He’s thinking about retiring.”
“Really?” Casey did the math and ran his hand through his hair as he slouched back in his chair. “Yeah, that time is coming up.”
Colette sat up straight, leaning forward, eyes sparkling with interest. “Are you retiring soon?”
Ever since his best bud, Jax, put his papers in and entered the civilian world he’d been thinking about doing the same. He loved his job, but it had downsides.
Like losing the woman sitting across from him.
~*~
Colette held her breath as she waited for Casey’s response. Why, she didn’t know. It’s not like it would change anything. They weren’t dating. If not for some weird twist of circumstances, they wouldn’t even be talking, much less having dinner together. And yet, some part of her brain—and her heart—held out hope. Probably the drunk part.
“I haven’t decided.” He pushed his empty plate away. “I’ll have twenty in next year, so after this tour I could retire from the Navy. But I’m not ready to hang out on the golf course all day or sit around a park playing chess.”
Laughter burbled up at the thought of this virile, constantly-on-the-go, thrill seeker sitting around tossing bird feed. “There’s lot of jobs you could do. You’re still young and you’ve got all of your experience from the Navy.”
“I’m thirty-seven, soon to be thirty-eight and that’s the cut off for most jobs in my profession. By the time I get out, I’ll be over-the-hill.”
Her gaze automatically dropped to his chest. Although fully covered by the button-down dress shirt he wore, it was clear the man was fit. Having seen him without clothes, Colette could swear on her grave he was in just as good or better shape than he’d been in his twenties.
“Haven’t you heard? Forty is the new thirty.”
Casey laughed. “Yeah, right.”
If she were an employer she’d take a seasoned applicant over a younger one any day. Maybe it was because of her job, where she saw more than her fair share of twenty something kids getting in trouble. Or maybe it was because she’d hit a certain age herself, besides silver was sexy.
Not that she’d tell Casey. He may have doubts in the job department, but she really didn’t plan to pump his ego. Especially not after his swimming exhibition. Clearly, he didn’t lack confidence in his sexual appeal…with good reason.
If anything, the man was sexier now than he’d been when they’d first met. At twenty-six, he’d mostly filled out, but his chest and shoulders seemed fuller, wider, firmer now. The soft timbre of his voice hadn’t changed and still reminded her of a warm blanket on a cold winter’s morning. And there were laugh lines around his eyes, mouth and forehead that told her life hadn’t been all bad for her ex-husband. Back then he’d been fit, but too many nights hitting the bar in his single days had given him a little softness in the middle. Not that she had minded one bit. These days he didn’t have an ounce to spare, everything was toned, sleek, sculpted and the man was smoking hawt.
She could only imagine how his new running regime…shall she say, heighted other areas of his life. That thought brought another: a naked Casey leaning over her, eyes at half-mast, lips curled in anticipation… Boy is it getting hot in here.
“Are you okay?” Casey asked.
“Huh, sure why?” Her hand automatically covered her cheek as she turned to look out the window, hoping the blush would go away.
“It sounded like you moaned.”
Great. Fantastic. Lovely.
And here she’d promised not to jump his bones at the table. Granted she’d kept her hands to herself, but she’d practically undressed him with her eyes and you know, was having fantasies of the two of them doing naughty things.
“Oh, I wacked my toe on the table leg.” She pretended to wave off his concern but was really trying to cool her face off. “I’m okay.” As lies went it was pretty lame, but then she was also possibly a little tipsy.
Before Casey could call her out or she could make more of a fool of herself, someone in a white coat walked up to the table.
“Mrs. Thomas, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” The sweet British man from that morning lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “But it seems my food has let you down again. First this morning, you left without eating and now you’ve sent your plate away with the food barely touched. Is there something else I can make that is more to your taste?”
Colette looked down and yep…her plate was gone. She didn’t even remember the waitress stopping by the table; then again, she had been pretty caught up in her fantasy of a naked Casey. She pulled herself back to the moment and smiled at the chef—Ian, that was his name! See, she wasn’t drunk at all. Wait. What was she supposed to say? She glanced around the table, met Casey’s smirking gaze and then back up. Oh, that’s right.
“Dinner was delicious, Chef Ian. Unfortunately, I had a late afternoon snack that filled me up more than I thought.” She crossed her heart and held up three fingers. “I promise, tomorrow morning, I’ll be here for breakfast and I’ll eat every bite on my plate.”
Chef Ian laughed and turned to Casey. “Since your plate was empty, I’m assuming your food was to your taste?”
“Dinner was surprisingly good,” said Casey while keeping his eyes on her.
“Nice compliment, mate, especially after I came to your rescue this morning.”
Casey winked and then looked up to Ian. “I’m just busting your chops, mate. The food was superb.”
Ian laughed again. “Right. Well, if there’s anything else we can do, please don’t hesitate to let us know.”
The chef walked away and Colette looked at Casey, with her chin resting in her palm. “You had to be rescued? Were you trapped by an alligator or something?”
“No. He helped me with the truck.” He reached out and ran his finger down her cheek before tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Let’s get out of here. You look like you could use some fresh air, unless you want dessert.”
She sat up and the room tilted. “What do I look like?”
Casey stood and held his hand out to her. “A little flushed.”
She let him take the lead, and they left the restaurant following the pretty path back to their villa. The sun had long set, the palm trees swayed in the wind, and thunder rumbled nearby. A crack of lightening lit up the night sky and Colette jumped.
“We better hurry.” The words were no sooner out of Casey’s mouth than the skies opened up and rain poured down, drenching them in seconds.
He tugged on her hand, but she held her ground letting the cool water wash over her. “What’s the point? We’re already wet.”
“You don’t want to catch a cold, do you?” His gaze skimmed over her, and she doubted very much he was worried about her health.
“Myth. You can’t catch a cold by being cold.”
“Maybe it’s my health I’m worried about…my mental health, because you’re driving me crazy.” Rain ran down his face to splatter on his shirt that had become a second skin. His eyes flared with passion, but his stance radiated with anger.
She stepped into his space, breathing in his scent and reached up to cup the side of his face in her hand. “I’m sorry.”
Before he could respond she ran. All she wanted was to curl up in her soft, oversized bed and cry. How many times could she say sorry? How many times could she say it before it became white noise? How many times did it take for him to believe her? Right then she didn’t know and didn’t care. She just couldn’t look at him and see the man she loved and know she couldn’t touch him, couldn’t tell him how she really felt, how scared she’d been, how much she’d missed or how she’d cried herself to sleep too many nights to count.
She got to the villa door and fumbled in her purse for the key card, but when she’d slipped in it, the door blinked red. “What the heck?”
Time and time again it blinked red, instead of green. A gentle hand re
ached out and took the card from her. He flipped it around and slid it into the lock. The light flashed green and the lock clicked open.
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
She kicked off her wet sandals onto the mat near the door, intending to disappear and not come out until Casey had left the next day. She hadn’t made it two steps when he took her hand, stopping her in her tracks.
“You’re not the only one who’s sorry, Colette.”
“But you didn’t leave, Casey.”
“Yes, I did and for that and more, I’m sorry.” He slid his hand to the back of her neck, tilting her head so she had to look at him. With his other hand he pulled her in close and his mouth claimed her in a deep kiss that ended way too soon. “Go back to bed, sweetheart. Tonight’s not the night. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Chapter Six
She woke to gray skies, more rain and thunder so loud it rattled the windows. She rolled over, grabbed her phone and checked the time—ten-fifteen, holy smokes—before bringing up the weather app. The day called for rain and more rain. Lovely. There went her day of lounging by the pool with her book. Oh well, the bed or even couch would work just as well, plus she wouldn’t have to worry about sunburn. In between rumbles, she noticed a lack of sound.
Had Casey left already without even saying goodbye? She grabbed the plush robe the hotel provided and slipped it on over her sleep shirt and tiptoed across the room, in case he was still sleeping. She stopped at the doorway and looked around. The spare pillow and blanket were neatly folded and set off to the side of the sofa. Casey’s duffle bag was nowhere to be seen.
Her shoulders dropped and she tugged the robe closed, suddenly very cold. The idea of spending the day snuggled up—alone—on the couch reading lost all its appeal, as did spending the week in the villa by herself. She should have begged Kibble to join her or her friend, Margie. Stop it, she silently admonished. What was wrong with her? A few days around Casey and all her independence had flown out the window? It was like being whisked back in time. Well forget that. She’d luxuriate in the hot tub, and if it was still raining she’d curl up with her book. She didn’t need anyone else to keep her company.
Just as she turned around to head into the bathroom, the lock on the front door click and Casey walked in.
Relief washed through her and she didn’t know if she should kick herself or be happy. He was carrying a drink holder and two take-out cartons. The aroma of fresh coffee and bacon filled the air. Happy it is.
A slow smile lit up his face. “About time. I almost starved to death waiting for you to wake up.” He walked over and set everything down on the dinette for two before handing her a cup. “Earl gray, one packet of sugar and a splash of milk.”
“Thanks,” she murmured before taking the cup and sitting down at the table. “What’s in here?”
“A better question is what’s not in there.” He lifted the lid to show her eggs, bacon, sausage, fried potatoes, tomatoes, sautéed mushrooms and a blueberry muffin. “Chef Ian sends his regards.”
Colette gave a little laugh. I’m not going to be able to eat half of that. “It’s enough to feed a platoon.”
“Nah, not even a baby platoon. Don’t worry what you don’t eat, I will. It’s practically lunch time.” His face lost all playfulness as he set his coffee aside. “Did you sleep okay?”
“A few wine induced weird dreams.” She stirred her tea and thought about how to broach the subject she wanted to discuss with him. “Thanks for breakfast.”
He shrugged and dug into his eggs. “Self-preservation.”
“Funny. Actually, I wanted to apologize for last night. I had way too much wine and not nearly enough food.”
“Stop.” His hand covered hers. It was a gentle, reassuring gesture but had reminded her of so many other moments in their past. “You don’t need to keep apologizing. But I would like to know what happened. Why did you leave me, Colette?”
All appetite gone, she stabbed at her eggs with the fork, pushing them around the plate as her mind went back to a dark and scary time. “Do you remember those headaches I started getting a couple of weeks before you deployed?”
“Yeah, the doc said they were stress headaches.” He shoveled in another mouthful of food and Colette wondered how he could eat when they were discussing their failed marriage.
“No, your corpsman told you they were from pre-deployment stress and once you were gone, I’d be fine.” She pushed her take-out carton away, no longer pretending interest in the food. “They didn’t go away. They got worse, which I tried to tell you during our calls. And—”
“And I kept dismissing them as nothing. Oh, God.” He shoved his plate away and fell back in his chair. “Sweetheart, were they—”
“Yes and no. Yes, they were more than stress, but not life threatening. Although it was a couple of scary weeks before I knew for sure.” She told him how the headaches never went away, how the pain increased each day, how she had to wait weeks just to see her primary care physician. “He sent me to a neurologist to have an EEG, an electroencephalography.”
“What’s that do?”
“That’s what I asked and he said, and I quote, “It’s to see if you have a brain aneurism.”
“Holy fuck.”
“My thoughts exactly.” She laughed, although she hadn’t all those years ago. “I told the doctor okay and walked out of the office with my head held high, a small smile on my face for those in the waiting room. And when I got to my car, I pulled out my phone and called you.”
He sat up, on full alert. “Wait. I would have remembered you telling me something like that.”
She nodded. “I tried to tell you. You’d been sleeping—I forgot about the time difference. You were pretty out of it. I remember you telling me you guys had been out on patrol and you hadn’t slept for over a day or something.”
“Yeah, we had many days like that. I’m pretty sure I’d fallen asleep standing in the shower before hitting the cot.”
She remembered utter fear gripping her throat during that call, not just for herself, but also for Casey. Would either of them even be around in a year?
“You were so tired and so far away. You asked if you could call me back that night after you’d caught a few hours and I said sure. Somehow, I kept it all together through the drive home and the rest of the day, doing laundry and vacuuming, anything to keep busy until you called and I didn’t have to think about the doctor’s words. Our house was white-glove clean.”
“But you didn’t tell me when I called.”
“You didn’t call, Casey. You sent me an email. You were going back out on patrol.” Her eyes burned with invisible tears. Really, she didn’t have any left after that night long ago…not for that topic anyway. “I remember closing down the computer and sitting there staring out our front window at a family walking by. They were so happy. The husband had their daughter on his shoulders as his wife pushed a stroller and all of his attention was on her as she talked.”
She took a sip of her lukewarm tea. “I realized that would never be us. Not because I’d die from an aneurism or you’d get killed in action, but because I wasn’t important enough to you. I wasn’t your number one priority, Casey. Your job was and I couldn’t play second.”
He shoved his hands through his hair and stared. “You figured that out from one email?”
“No, I wasn’t that stupid. I saw it, the change in you as the deployment got closer and closer. You closing yourself off to me, coming home later because you stopped off to have a beer with the guys, but what was worse was you no longer shared anything with me. Our conversations were superficial and anytime I expressed concern you’d brush them off.”
“I couldn’t go off to a war zone with those kinds of thoughts in my head.”
“No, I know that but you stopped sharing with me. The only intimate moments we had were in bed. Then you left and the only time I heard from you is when I initiated the call or you responded to my email. You didn’t t
reat me like the love of your life, rather like the pesky ex-girlfriend who wouldn’t leave you alone.”
She’d been hurt, and angry and so frustrated. All the other wives had said it was normal for them to pull back a little before they left, even to be assholes and start arguments. It made it easier for them to say goodbye. They also said they got emails and phone calls and could hear in their husbands’ voices how much they missed them. Not so with Casey. He could have been on a weekend fishing trip with the guys based on his reactions.
“I’m sorry. I really am, sweetheart and I’ll explain, but first can you finish? What happened with the EEG?” His voice was filled with genuine concern.
“After your email I decided not to say anything to you until I knew more. It was the longest two weeks in my life, waiting for that appointment. Thankfully, I got a great doctor who not only was perceptive and saw I was a wreck, but one who wasn’t stone cold. The estrogen in my birth control pills caused the headaches. My brain was fine.”
His whole body relaxed at her news. A rush of breath he probably hadn’t been aware he’d been holding in, rushed out. There was no denying his worry and relief.
“But you still left me. Why?”
“As I walked out of the doctor’s office, practically on air, I reached for my phone to call you with the good news and it hit me… You didn’t know the bad news, so what was the point in telling you the good news? And then a second thought hit me and held on tight: I was your wife in name only.”
“That’s not true.”
“Maybe, but it’s how I felt. For the next week I held off calling you or emailing, to see if you would. You didn’t and that’s when I decided I didn’t want to be married in name only, so I packed up my stuff and left. In hindsight, I was wrong. So young and stupid, scared and hurt. I should have stayed until you got home and talked to you about our marriage and how I felt. Then again, you never came after me, so maybe I had done us both a favor?”
~*~
The coffee burned his gut while his breakfast lumped together to sit at the bottom like a weight. He wanted nothing more than to pull Colette into his arms and apologize over and over; instead he pushed away from the table and stalked into the kitchen for a glass of cold water. When the burning subsided, he turned around.
A Sailor's Second Chance Page 5
