by Geri Krotow
“I’ve changed, Drew. I’m not who I was six months ago.”
Should she tell him about those thoughts? The visions of them when they’d been in love? Making love.
Oh, no.
“You’ve been through a lot, Gwen, and yes, it’s changed you, changed your outlook on things. But trust me, it’s like life on Whidbey. New restaurants pop up, coffee shops switch owners, but the water, the mountains—all the fundamentals are still there. Same as always.”
“The snow cap on Mt. Baker is shrinking.”
He grinned. “Well, yeah, there’s that.”
Standing next to Drew, feeling his warmth, smelling that familiar scent...her head was so heavy and his shoulders would feel so good to lean on.
It wouldn’t be fair to either of them if she took advantage of the situation.
“Yeah.” Her voice cracked.
She couldn’t find the words, didn’t have the energy to explain that she’d changed from the inside out. She’d forfeited any right to accept comfort from Drew the day she’d signed their divorce papers. The things she’d found boring before her ordeal—a safe home, a good meal, time to simply relax—meant the world to her now. She wished she could explain this to him without the risk that he’d think it was PTSD or related emotional upset.
You’re the only one who needs to know you’ve changed.
Why did she care whether or not Drew understood she’d turned into a mother, a family woman?
“I’ll leave you for a while. Take your time. Have a long hot shower if you need it. When you’re ready, I’ll put together some dinner.” He left the room and shut the door behind him.
The instant quiet scared her. After the incessant humming of bugs, birds and animals she never identified, the silence of the bedroom made her uneasy. At least the hospital had a constant whirr of activity and air systems serving as white noise.
You’re safe.
As she’d done these past two weeks of freedom, she forced herself to focus on the next obvious task.
A hot shower.
The novelty of readily available water hadn’t worn off yet. She’d never take hot running water for granted again.
Before she walked into the master bathroom, she tiptoed to the bedroom door and silently turned the handle to open it. Just a crack.
It was silly and stupid and maybe superstitious, but it made her feel connected to Drew.
An invisible link could save your life.
* * *
DREW FIRED UP the gas grill and used the few minutes outside on the deck to calm down.
“Damn it.” He spoke under his breath to the trees, the earth, the fates that had blessed him with Gwen’s survival while cursing him with her nearness.
He really needed a cold shower. Gwen had never stopped turning him on, difficult though it’d been that last year they’d lived together. As the friends they’d become, he knew she was off-limits. That didn’t change his initial reaction to her each time she came over to see the pets, or whenever he ran into her in town. Sexual compatibility had never been a problem for them.
It was emotional maturity they’d lacked. Apparently, he still hadn’t grown up. He felt lower than a caterpillar, getting turned on by her when she was clearly so fragile. When they both knew where it would all end.
They’d still be divorced.
If he was going to be the friend she needed right now, he had to ignore the sexual thoughts that had started the minute he saw her again.
He had to let go of the way his arms ached to haul her against him. The way he wanted to kiss her. To make love to her until she forgot about the world and everything she’d endured.
Double damn it.
When he went back in, he found her sitting at the long kitchen counter that divided the great room. She looked so waifish, all bundled in sweats and perched on the bar stool.
“You’ve kept the place clean, I’ll give you that.” Wet hair and chapped lips, and she still had her sense of humor.
“I have help. After you left on deployment my business picked up. I couldn’t keep the house anything close to hygienic on my own.” He offered her a grin. “My talents are limited to folding clean laundry.”
“You, Mr. I-Can-Do-It-All, hired a housecleaner?”
“It was a long fall, but I’m tough that way. I can handle it.”
She giggled, and it was like a blast of tropical wind as his ego reacted to her small sign of pleasure.
He needed to make sure he kept his distance over these next few weeks or he’d start misinterpreting every little thing she did.
Gwen had often told him that his sarcasm and arrogance had endeared him to her at first, but grown tedious as the years went by.
His self-recrimination had passed, though. There was no point in wondering why the heck he’d waited so long to grow up.
“I’m grilling veggies and chicken—that sound good?”
“Wonderful.” She gazed around the kitchen as she absentmindedly rubbed the top of Nappie’s head. “I don’t expect you to wait on me, Drew. Let me do something.”
“I’m not going to be your slave, believe me. But today’s your big day. You’re finally back from deployment.”
“Yes, I am. Only two months late, right?”
Her squadron had returned two months ago, after six months in Japan. She’d deployed with them, but gone missing during their second month, on her ill-fated mission.
“Your XO has been acting as the CO since the change of command. He’s kept me informed.”
“How much did he know?”
“Not much, at least not based on what he shared with me. Like I said, Ro filled in the holes, plus she learned stuff ahead of the squadron. She didn’t keep anything from me, even though I’m a mere civilian.” He stopped himself from adding “and an ex-husband.” He’d been read out of his clearances over seven years ago when he’d resigned his commission.
He watched her while he sliced zucchini and red onions for the grilling basket. To his immense relief, he could still recognize the real Gwen beneath her pallor and extreme thinness. But the shadows in her eyes worried him. What horrors had she faced?
“Look, let’s save this conversation for later. For now, we’ll eat and celebrate that you’re back.”
And I’ll do my best to keep my hands to myself.
* * *
DETECTIVE COLE RAMSEY knew this wasn’t the time to bother Anita Perez. It was the end of her workday, and her twelve-hour night shifts at Coupeville General Hospital left her tired and needing to sleep while her kids were in school. Her parents had moved in with her after her husband died, enabling her to take the graveyard shift. She had a boy and a girl, both in elementary school, two years apart.
They were adorable, like their mother.
Anita would be tired and in no mood to deal with the likes of him.
Too bad.
He’d read the island paper this morning and the news of his good friend Drew’s ex-wife, Navy Commander Gwendolyn Brett, coming back from the dead was the big headline. The feel-good ending to what everyone had assumed would be a tragic story was the kick in the pants he needed.
It reminded him that miracles happened, even on Whidbey where he saw the worst of the community up close and personal each day.
Ramsey balanced the paper coffee carrier that held two steaming-hot cups of local brew, and a bag of fresh cinnamon donuts. If Anita wouldn’t talk to him, he’d bribe her. When he’d conducted the investigation into her estranged husband’s murder last year he’d discovered she had a wicked sweet tooth.
Her tall, slim figure exited the side door of the hospital and she made a beeline for her old station wagon. He pushed back the uncertainty that tightened his chest.
“Good morning, Anita.”
> She abruptly paused and her cool blue eyes sparked recognition before her professional nurse’s mask fell back in place.
“Ramsey.”
They studied each other for a full minute. He’d bet his paycheck, admittedly never enough, that she felt the attraction, too.
“Coffee?”
Anita was at eye level with him, but only because she wore flat working shoes. In the slightest of heels, she’d be taller than him.
He didn’t care. In fact, it turned him on.
“Thanks.” She reluctantly took the paper cup he offered. “I have to get home, Ramsey.”
She started walking toward her car.
“I know you do. And this isn’t a date.” She’d declined the two other times he’d asked her.
She had the longest stride. He almost had to jog to keep up with her.
“Who said anything about a date?” she asked. She stopped at her car and looked up at the sky. He saw the raindrops hit her skin before he felt the splats on his sleeves.
She sighed, looking back at him. Resignation, maybe an acceptance that they should give it a try?
She nodded at the passenger side. “Get in.”
Ramsey wasn’t going to argue. If a beautiful woman told him to get in her car, he did it.
The interior smelled of sugar, coffee, her. Crumpled snack wrappers littered the back with its two booster seats. They sat in the comfortable quiet of the rainfall, the companionable silence completely different from the manner in which they’d met and their encounters until now.
“Mmm.” The froth of her cappuccino stuck to her upper lip and he watched her tongue lick it off, her eyes closed.
“How was your shift?”
She sent Cole a sidelong glance, giving him a quick glimpse of arctic blue, before she returned her gaze to the windshield.
“The usual, but not as busy. Quiet.” She sipped. “I prefer to have more to do. Not that I wish anyone ill. It’s just that when it’s quiet, I have too much time to...think.”
“I know.” Ramsey felt the same way when his days held nothing but paperwork.
“Yes, I suppose you do. Our jobs aren’t really that different.”
He took a gulp of his black coffee. He hadn’t come here to talk about himself.
“How are your kids doing?”
“Fine.” Which meant she wasn’t going to allow him to step one inch into her life, much less her children’s. She hadn’t in the year since her husband was murdered by an overzealous senior naval officer who had stopped at nothing to secure his own career success. Why would she let him in now?
“Eventually you have to open up to somebody, Anita.”
“Who says I haven’t?”
“I saw enough of you last year to see that we operate in much the same way. You’re not going to let anyone in who wasn’t already there, who doesn’t already know your story, at least that part of it. It’s too much to put on anyone else.”
“You haven’t answered my question, Detective. For all you know, I took a lover and confided in him. But for the sake of argument, let’s say I didn’t. Why do you think I’d ever want to open up to anyone else again? To risk changing the family life I’ve built with my kids by bringing in someone new?”
He saw tears glistening in her eyes, turning them a bright aquamarine. They weren’t tears of self-pity or even sadness. They were there because she was speaking her truth, revealing herself.
To him.
“You’re a beautiful woman with two smart children. You’re talented, hardworking, a doer. You’re going to crave companionship again, if you haven’t already.”
Anita’s gaze remained on him a split second after he’d finished, until she looked away. She stared at the steering wheel, her cheeks the exact shade of the red turtleneck she’d worn when he’d met her last year.
Crap. He’d said too much.
“You think I’m beautiful, huh?” She lifted one side of her mouth in a smile, producing a dimple his tongue wanted to explore.
Relieved, he returned the grin.
“Just the facts, ma’am.”
He couldn’t show her how damned attractive he found her. She’d have to make the first move if he was ever going to have a chance.
* * *
GWEN WATCHED DREW as he took a salad out of the refrigerator.
“You’ve got veggies on the grill.”
“I saw fresh beets at the store and remembered that it’s one of your favorites.”
A delicious shiver of appreciation went through her. She didn’t miss this proof that he’d been thinking about her, as she had him.
Worse, however, was her sense of anticipation. This was too much like other homecomings—where they’d enjoyed the day, ate a gourmet meal, made love...
Don’t think about that.
Her unexpected desire and resultant frustration at knowing she wouldn’t be acting on it anytime soon had to be a byproduct of being alone for so long. She was too tired to be thinking about sex. It had to be the stress, the chaotic emotions. Drew could be any other guy and she’d feel the same.
You fooling yourself with that line?
His shoulders stretched under his shirt as he turned back to the refrigerator and her unwanted need increased.
“Gwen?”
“What?”
“Iced tea or soda?” His raised eyebrows indicated that he’d had to ask her twice.
“Iced tea’s fine.”
She hoped he hadn’t seen the desire on her face. What was she, fifteen and on a date with the rock star of her dreams?
Close enough, she supposed.
“Let me help, will you?” She stood up from the bar stool.
“Not today. I thought we’d sit inside at the table instead of the counter. Here.” He handed her a glass of iced tea. “Take your drink and I’ll be there in a sec.”
She slid into a dining chair and looked around.
He’d changed virtually nothing since she’d left.
“All I’m doing lately is sleeping or sitting.” She sipped her drink and nearly groaned with pleasure. He’d made it exactly the way she loved it—strong, with extra lemon.
“You’ve earned it.” He placed the last of the lunch in front of her and took the chair across from her.
“Hmm.”
They were quiet as they ate. Gwen couldn’t remember when simple vegetables and grilled chicken breasts had tasted so good.
Eventually, she looked up. Drew was wearing a wide grin.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s great to see you enjoying your food. I don’t know the last time I saw anyone attack their plate like that.”
Gwen swallowed the veggies in her mouth and laughed.
“I keep thinking I’m not hungry, but the minute food hits my tongue, I can’t stop eating.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth and she wished she’d used any word other than tongue.
“I had to pretend I wasn’t hungry to get through those early days out in the bush.”
“I’ll bet you did.” Finally, after several excruciating seconds, he quit staring at her mouth.
Not before her lips tingled and white-hot heat shot to the sweet spot between her legs. Even her nipples were hard—she felt the lacy bra Ro had sent her brush against them.
She silently damned Ro for picking out such sexy underwear for her. It gave her body too much to remember.
All the wonderful sex she and Drew used to have...
“I didn’t starve, not once I made it to the safe village, anyhow.” But she’d suffered from fevers and depression, and during those times she didn’t eat. Only the broth Mia spooned into her mouth had sustained her. That, and seeing Pax in Mia’s arms. Wanting to be strong enough to ho
ld him herself. Drew didn’t need to know about that—no one did.
It was over.
“It takes time to start absorbing nutrients again. You’ll probably feel better with simple meals for now.”
“This is sheer magic.” She spoke around a mouthful of the beet-quinoa salad.
Drew laughed. “Not quite. You know I’m a very basic cook.”
“You’re a great griller. I can bake my way through anything, but when it comes to the grill, I suck and you know it.”
“Speaking of baking, Ro left you a treat.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“What’s your favorite dessert?”
His eyes sparkled and if she wanted to she could pretend they were still married, still happy, still in love.
Cruel thing, imagination.
“I don’t know—chocolate cake?”
“Her three-layer cake with that fancy frosting you like.”
“Her ganache?” Besides knitting, baking was one of Ro’s talents. She’d taken it up in earnest once she and Miles got together. Ro’s deep-dark-chocolate cake with ganache was a specialty.
“That’s it.”
Gwen studied his face and found herself lost in his eyes. Was he remembering their personal history with chocolate cake, too?
Like the time they’d eaten it in bed after a long Saturday morning of lovemaking, only to break the dirty plates when their sheets fell to the floor as they went after each other again?
His eyes showed the same heat she felt.
“Drew, I had a lot of time to think out there.”
He blinked. “I had time to think here, too. We’ll talk about all of it, but not today.”
“Okay, but I want you to know I’m all right. I’m not as badly off as you might think. I wasn’t raped, you know.” Unlike too many female POWs who’d had to deal with the after-effects of sexual assault, heaped on top of whatever conditions they’d survived.
Relief flashed in his eyes. She was glad she’d told him this much.
The rest would wait. It was too soon, her soul too raw.
CHAPTER FOUR
GWEN AWOKE TO the muted colors of their bedroom. She allowed herself to lie there and relish the warmth of the comforter, the familiarity of the mattress.
