She turned, heading back toward the door, and from the corner of her eyes she saw a shadow in the hallway, near the kitchen. It was Matt's wife, Darlene, but she disappeared before Lucy could even say hello.
"Let me know if you think of anything new," Lucy told Parker. She opened the front door and Blue followed her outside.
She could feel Parker—or maybe it was Darlene—watching them as they walked down the path to the street and her truck.
"You did okay," Blue told her as they got into her truck. "You said just enough to make the guilt stick-provided Parker has a conscience."
'Thanks," Lucy put the truck in gear and headed back toward the main road. "You did okay, too."
"I just stood there."
"Exactly." She glanced at him, unable to hide a smile. "You didn't slam him against the wall and threaten to tear his throat out. I know that's what you wanted to do."
His lips twitched upward into an answering smile. "I'm hurt and offended you could think such a thing, Yankee."
"Am I wrong?"
His smile became a grin. It transformed his face, making him look younger—and nearly paralysingly handsome. "No, ma'am."
Lucy had to laugh. But when their eyes met, something sparked, something molten, something hot and liquid and filled with the trembling echoes of last night. As he'd done before, Blue was the first to look away.
Lucy turned her attention back to the road, trying not to care. Yet she couldn't help but feel disappointed. And she knew with a dreadful certainty exactly what she wanted, precisely what she needed.
She needed Blue McCoy by her side for the rest of her life.
Fat chance of that happening. But maybe if she played it right, she'd have Blue by her side again tonight. It was a pathetic substitute for what she really wanted, but it was all she could hope for.
Except Blue was still clearly uncomfortable with the hazy definition of their relationship. Were they friends, or were they lovers? He didn't seem to understand that they could be both. He didn't seem to realize that the best of lovers always were the best of friends, too.
If only she had enough time, she could set him straight. But time was not on her side.
Lucy glanced back at Blue, forcing a smile. "Come on, McCoy. Let's go knock on some doors up near Gate's Hill Road before lunch. Let's shake this town up. Maybe something of interest will fall out."
Dinner was over. The dishes had been cleaned up.
Lucy had gone out onto the porch to look up at the night sky and get a breath of fresh air.
Blue knew he shouldn't follow her out there. He'd told himself at least a hundred times during dinner and probably a thousand times during the course of the day that sex could not be a regular part of his relationship with Lucy. He respected her too much to use her that way. Unfortunately, that didn't stop him from wanting her. And he did. He wanted her so badly it hurt. But he'd lived through pain before. He could do it again.
They'd talked about the investigation over dinner, going over and over the same facts again and again, trying to find whatever it was that they were missing, searching for some kind of lead.
They'd learned nothing from their endless knocking on doors and questioning the folks who lived near the spot where Gerry had died. They'd learned nothing from Jenny Lee, nothing from Matt Parker.
It was frustrating as hell.
Blue picked up the phone and tried calling the naval base in California again. But Alpha Squad was still off base and the officer from Internal Affairs was still taking all calls. Blue tried to squash the frustration that rose inside him. He needed some serious help, yet here he was, on his own.
Not entirely on his own—he had Lucy Tait on his side.
Wanting desperately to see her warm, familiar smile, Blue pushed open the door and stepped outside onto the porch. He was coming out here to say good-night to her. Only to say good-night.
She was sitting on the steps, looking at the stars. She glanced up when she heard the door and smiled. Blue felt simultaneously better and worse. Mercy, he wanted to make love to her again tonight.
But he couldn't let himself. It wouldn't be right.
He sat down dangerously close to her—on the steps instead of across the porch on the swing—even though he knew sparks were going to fly. But he was a demolitions expert. He was used to handling volatile substances. He could sit here, close enough to breathe in Lucy's clean, fresh scent, and he could still find the strength to stand up and walk away from her. He knew he could.
"Pleiades," she said, pointing up to the stars. "It's my favourite constellation. It's the—"
"That little tiny cluster of stars," Blue said. "I know the constellations."
Lucy looked at him. "Don't tell me SEALs are trained in astronomy."
"Intergalactic space navigation," he corrected her. "In case we need to run a rescue mission on some planet in the Andromeda galaxy."
She looked at him and laughed. He loved the sound of her laughter. He had to fight to keep from reaching out and pushing a strand of her hair back behind her ear.
"You know you say things like that so seriously I almost believe you," she told him.
"Alpha Squad has trained to fly the space shuttle," he said. "We haven't had the opportunity yet, but if the need arose, we'd be ready."
"You sound so casual about it," Lucy said, turning slightly on the stairs so that she was facing him. "As if hundreds, probably thousands of hours of training are insignificant."
She'd changed from her jeans to a pair of cutoff shorts when they'd arrived home and Blue couldn't keep his eyes from travelling the long, smooth lengths of her legs. Just last night he'd run his hands and his mouth over every inch of those beautiful, sexy legs
He forced himself to shrug, bringing his gaze back up to her face. "That particular training op was fun. Some of them aren't."
"Like what?"
He shrugged again. "Some of the guys really hate the submarine work. It's pretty claustrophobic stuff. Others turn green at the high-altitude parachute jumps. And most SEALs didn't have fun during the Arctic survival training."
"But those things didn't bother you."
"No," He smiled. "I could handle the physical training. My personal hell was trying to learn a different language. I busted my ass for that one."
Blue could see amusement shining in Lucy's eyes. "Are you serious?"
"I am now fluent in German," he continued. "And I can parlez-vous enough to get by in French and Arabic, but let me tell you it was a real uphill battle. I would've gladly taken a repeat session on Arctic survival, instead."
"Why did you have to learn a language, too?" Lucy asked. "I thought you said Joe Cat was the language specialist in your unit."
Blue shifted down several steps, leaning back on the porch with his elbows and stretching his legs out in front of him. He'd hoped his movement would get him away from the magnetic pull of Lucy's eyes, but now he was inches from the satiny skin of her thighs. He felt sweat trickle down the middle of his back.
"He is," he answered her. "But we all need to have at least one language besides English that we can speak fluently. It's important on an overseas mission not to look and sound like an American. That can be a real kiss of death. Part of SEAL Team Ten's counterterrorist training is learning how to insert into a country and blend in. Hide in plain sight." He sighed, shaking his head. "But I tell you, it was frustrating as hell watching Cat plough through language after language, sounding like a native after only a day or two of listening to the tapes. He was learning two different dialects of Russian while I was still stumbling over 'Guten Tag, wie geht es dir? Meine Nahme ist Fritz."'
"Your name is Fritz?" Lucy repeated, covering her mouth with her hand as she tried not to laugh.
"Fritz or Hans or Johann," Blue said, smiling back at her. "When I go on an overseas mission to someplace like Cairo or Kathmandu, I play a German because of my hair. I've even learned to speak English with a heavy Deutsch accent."
Lucy loo
ked away from him and up at the stars again, trying to imagine the extent of the effort Blue had put in to become a SEAL. Clearly it wasn't all physical training. He had worked hard to get where he was. He'd truly wanted it badly enough.
The sound of insects scratching and buzzing and humming and rattling filled the night air. "You never fail to amaze me," Lucy finally said, so softly he had to lean forward to hear her.
"You're pretty amazing yourself, Yankee." Their gazes locked, and Blue felt himself drop into a wild free-fall of sexual energy that rivalled his most intense skydiving jumps. Except right now he wasn't wearing any kind of parachute. God only knows how he was going to land without hurting himself. Or Lucy.
"I'm not amazing. I'm a coward," she said, looking away from him. "You've gone so many different places and had so many adventures." She sighed. "You were right about Hatboro Creek. There are places that I'd rather be, but look at me. I ended up back here." She stood and gazed up at her big Victorian house, looming above them in the darkness. "Living here was my mother's dream, not mine."
"What's keeping you from selling and moving on?" Blue asked quietly.
Lucy held out her hand for him, and he hesitated only a moment before taking it and letting her pull him to his feet. But she let go of him almost immediately. He followed her in the soft moonlight around to the side of the house.
"I know exactly what I'm getting in Hatboro Creek," she said as they walked slowly into the backyard. "It's safe and secure—no risk. Like I told you, I'm a coward."
"Just because it's hard for you to throw away your mother's dreams," Blue said softly, "doesn't make you a coward."
Lucy turned and looked at him, the moonlight reflecting the surprise in her eyes. "Don't tell me. SEALs are trained in basic psychology."
"The psychology we learn isn't basic," he said with a smile. But then his smile faded and he gazed at her steadily, his eyes serious. "No, I'm talking from experience, Lucy. I stayed in Hatboro Creek as long as I did because it was my mother's dream."
Lucy's pace had slowed. She was watching him as they walked, waiting for him to tell her more. But now that he'd started this conversation, he wasn't sure that he could. He'd never talked to anyone about his mother, not even Joe Cat. But he wanted to make Lucy understand that she wasn't alone. It was the least he could do for a friend.
"My mother married Arthur McCoy because he was an honest and decent man. He wasn't necessarily a kind man, but she did the best she could in the time she had," Blue said. "See, she knew she had cancer—she knew she was dying. She married Arthur for me—so that I wouldn't be all alone in the world after she was gone."
Lucy was silent, just listening.
Blue took a deep breath and went on. "It was her dream that there would be someone in Hatboro Creek who would take care of me, someone who would love me and keep me safe. She wanted to know that I'd grow up here, in this little town, in a good home. She made me promise I'd stay until I finished school."
They'd walked all the way back to the end of the yard and up the trail through the woods to the back field where there was a small pond. The moon reflected almost perfectly on the glass-calm surface of the water. It was beautiful, but Lucy couldn't look away from Blue's face as he continued to talk.
"I made a promise, so I stayed." Blue's voice was softer now. "Even when it was clear that her dream wasn't going to come true—that Arthur McCoy had nothing to spare for me outside of a bed to sleep in and food to eat."
Lucy gazed at Blue in the moonlight. He was a man for whom talk did not come easily, and this was particularly difficult for him to talk about. As she looked in his eyes, she could see a distant reflection of the little boy he'd been, lost and alone. His basic needs had been taken care of, but he'd truly needed so much more. He still did.
Lucy knew at that moment that she loved Blue McCoy without any doubts, without any reservations. It had seemed so complicated last night and this morning, but it really wasn't. It was as simple as it could possibly be.
Her heart ached, and she had to wonder if anyone, anyone, had ever told this man that he or she loved him. She knew if she spoke the words that he would back away. She knew that he no longer wanted love, that he saw it as a burden, an unlucky twist of fate, a weight to be carried. And she knew that even if he were to change his mind, he wouldn't want her to be the one who loved him. He'd want someone perfect and feminine. Someone special and sweet... like Jenny Lee.
But he wasn't alone, and he wasn't unloved. Not as long as Lucy's heart was still beating.
"I always felt like there was something wrong with me," Blue told Lucy, "because here I was, living this dream of my mother's and hating every damn minute of it. It wasn't until I was older that I realized it was her dream, Yankee. Not mine. Sure, it would have been nice if it had all worked out, but it didn't, and that wasn't my fault."
Maybe that dream of Blue's mother had just taken a whole lot longer to work out than she'd anticipated. Because right now there was someone in Hatboro Creek—someone who would do her damnedest to take care of Blue and keep him safe. Someone who loved him. Someone named Lucy Tait.
But that, too, was something Lucy couldn't tell Blue. Her words would scare him away. Instead of telling him in words that she loved him, she would show him how she felt.
She reached out and took his hand, lacing her fingers through his.
But there was regret in his eyes as he looked down at her. "Lucy, I don't think—"
"Shh," she said, lifting herself slightly onto her toes to kiss him. His mouth was soft and warm and tasted like sweetened coffee. He groaned as she ran her tongue lightly across his lips and he pulled her into his arms, deepening the kiss.
Blue was spinning. One kiss, and he couldn't stop. One kiss, and he'd finally discovered the meaning of the word impossible. All his life he'd refused to acknowledge that anything could be undo-able. All his life impossible wasn't a word that was in his working vocabulary. Before this kiss, nothing was impossible. But now he knew he'd been mistaken. Staying away from Lucy, keeping the hot-burning sex, the uncontrollable need, out of their relationship was proving to be just that.
Her hands were up underneath the edge of his shirt, her fingers cool against his skin despite the heat of the night. Her touch left no doubt in his mind exactly what Lucy wanted. She wanted him. All of him. And she wanted him now.
And dear Lord, as much as he knew that he shouldn't, the truth was that he wanted her, too. He wanted her with a power that shook him to his very soul, a power that steamrollered over his resolve to keep sex out of their friendship, a power that neutralized his need to meet the impossible head-on and win.
Staying away from Lucy was going to be impossible, because as much as he wanted to do the right thing, he wanted even more to make love to her, to please her, to hear that incredible, sexy catch in her breath as he filled her. He wanted all that so much more.
He wanted to stop, but he didn't want to stop badly enough.
She was unfastening his shirt, and he helped her with the last button, then let it slide from his arms onto the grass. He unbuckled his shoulder holster as she pulled her T-shirt over her head. The moonlight glistened enticingly on her beautiful, smooth skin, on the curve of her breasts and the white lace of her bra. And then she was in his arms again and he was touching her.
Mercy! All day long he'd fought the urge to touch her. All day long he'd told himself Lucy couldn't possibly be as soft and as smooth and as delicious to touch and kiss and taste as he remembered. What they'd done last night had been damn good, but his imagination and raging libido had surely taken those memories and inflated them beyond reason.
He was wrong.
She was perfection.
And she was his.
"Let's go for a swim," she whispered, unbuckling his belt. Her eyes were shining a promise that took his breath away as she smiled at him. Blue knew without a doubt that she could have suggested that they go down into the darkest reaches of Hell and he would have gladly
followed.
He kicked off his sandals and stripped off the rest of his clothes as Lucy did the same.
She was beautiful in the moonlight—so much so that his chest felt painfully tight at the sight of her. She started toward the water, but then stopped and turned to face him, as if she somehow knew that he wanted to take a moment to look at her. Her dark hair hung thick and shining around her shoulders—shoulders that were both strong and feminine at the same time. She was muscular and sleek, yet soft in all the right places. Her legs were long and well toned, leading up to slim hips and a flat stomach. The silvery light gleamed off her golden skin, casting enticing shadows, emphasizing the soft curve of her hips, the fullness of her breasts. Her nipples were taut with anticipation and need.
That need was echoed on her beautiful face. Her lips were moist and parted slightly and her usually dancing eyes were heavy-lidded and filled with a molten desire as she gazed back at him.
Lucy hadn't turned back to let him look at her, Blue realized suddenly, a jolt of new fire flooding through his veins. She'd turned back because she wanted to look at him.
Her gaze was almost as palpable as a caress as her eyes skimmed across his body. She boldly took her time when she reached the obvious evidence of his arousal. When she finally looked up again, she smiled into his eyes, a smile sweet and hot and filled with pleasure.
Then she turned, and a few short steps brought her to the edge of the pond. She did a surface dive out into the centre, barely making a splash, then disappeared into the darkness of the water.
Blue followed more slowly, watching as she emerged on the other side of the small pond.
"Hell," he said as he stepped off the edge and found himself suddenly waist deep in icy water. "This water is cold."
"There's some kind of underground cold spring feeding into this pond," Lucy said, drifting toward him. "It's great—normally around here a pond this size would become stagnant and turn into a swamp within a matter of months. But this thing has been around for years. I used to come out here and skinny-dip all the time back in high school."
Forever Blue Page 17
