“Good! I’ll be here.”
“You sure? Might be better if I handled this alone.”
“I’ll be here.”
She hung up, thinking fast. The shop’s security system didn’t include high-tech surveillance cameras, but Andi knew just where to get her hands on one. The minicamcorder had been state-of-the-art when she’d bought it years ago and was probably five or six generations out of date now. No matter. Its miniature size and powerful microphone would serve her purposes perfectly.
Trying to remember when Dave had said he was leaving for D.C., Andi flipped her phone open again and dialed information. Two minutes later, she was connected to the 720th Special Tactics Group headquarters.
“This is the 720th commander’s office, Captain Acker speaking.”
“This is…”
Andi hesitated. She was entitled to use her military rank. God knew she’d earned it. Still, it made for an awkward conversation in situations like this one.
With a mental shrug, she identified herself. “This is Colonel Andrea Armstrong. Is the other Colonel Armstrong available?”
“Hold on, ma’am. I’ll see if he’s in.”
Now there was a well-trained exec, Andi thought wryly. Never put an ex-wife through without checking with the boss first.
Dave picked up a few moments later, his voice sharp with concern. “Andi? You okay?”
Hell! She should have realized a call from her would trigger this kind of reaction. It wasn’t as if she contacted him regularly. Or often.
“I’m fine. I just wondered if you still have that minicamcorder I gave you our last Christmas together.”
“Yeah, somewhere.”
“Can I borrow it?
“Sure.”
“Give me a call when you get home tonight. I’ll pop over and pick it up.”
“Will do.”
SHE WAS ATTACHING THE last Plexiglas square to the wall behind her shiny, freshly refinished counter when her cell phone chimed again.
“I’m home,” Dave announced.
“Already? You working civilian hours now, Armstrong?”
“Guess so. The moon’s barely up.”
“Huh?”
Swiveling, Andi saw with some shock that the shop windows had gone dark. What had happened to the afternoon?
“I don’t see any lights in your windows,” Dave commented. “Where are you?”
“Still at the bookstore.”
“Jesus, Andi. It’s almost nine. Have you been there all day?”
“No.”
She wasn’t lying, only stretching facts a tad. She’d run over to the copy shop across the street to enlarge a sample book cover and test it in the first wall mounting. The process had consumed all of fifteen minutes, but she didn’t figure that was any of Dave’s business.
“I’m leaving now. Be home shortly.”
She should have run out for more than posters, Andi realized when she bent to replace her drill and screwdriver in her tool bag.
Black spots danced in front of her eyes. When the spots blurred into a wave of dizziness, Andi slapped a hand against the counter to steady herself.
Her first panicky thought was that she’d overstressed her heart. Her second chased away the panic.
She hadn’t overdone it. She’d underdone it.
Like a fool, she’d worked straight through lunch and dinner. She’d plug this sinking sensation on the way back to the house.
That was the plan, anyway. She might have stuck to it, too, if Crash hadn’t called just after she pulled out of the drive-through lane of Hardee’s. Her broiled chicken sandwich and curly fries remained in their bag while Andi cruised toward home and brought Bill up to speed on events at the store.
“That would be a real coup if you do get Brent to show for a signing,” he commented.
“Tell me about it.”
“No date set for the grand opening?”
“Not yet.”
“I want a personal invite.”
“You’ll get one,” she promised, sneaking a fry out of the bag. She thought that might be the end of the conversation, but Crash surprised her with some uncharacteristic diffidence.
“Listen, I, uh, wanted to ask you about your friend, Sue Ellen.”
“What about her?”
“Think she would mind if I gave her a call?”
Mind? S.E. oozed hormones from every pore whenever she come within fifty feet of the studly major.
“Call away,” she advised as she turned into the cul-de-sac leading to her rented home. “I’ll give you a friendly warning, though. Sue Ellen’s been burned twice. The last time was pretty bad.”
“She told me a little about it the other night at your house.”
Wedging the phone under her ear, Andi steered with one hand and hit the garage opener with the other. The door yawned up. Lights flooded the garage.
“Sue Ellen puts up a good front, Crash, but she’s not as tough as she wants folks to think.”
“I got that impression.”
“Do you have her phone number?”
“I called information. She’s unlisted.”
“Chalk that up to creepo husband number two.”
Andi knew Sue Ellen wouldn’t mind if she shared the number with Crash. Hell, she might even pay a finder’s fee. Grinning at the thought, Andi pulled into the garage and killed the engine.
“Just make sure you tell her how you got her number.” She shouldered the door open and swung out. “I want—oooh!”
She’d moved too fast. The spots ballooned again, bigger and blacker than before.
“Andi?”
The concrete floor tilted under her feet. Her head spinning, she made a desperate grab for the Tahoe’s door with her free hand.
“Andi, you okay?”
Crash’s voice seemed to rise from the bottom of a deep, dark well. No, not a well. From the phone still clutched in her fist.
“Andi, talk to me!”
“Crash…”
She was sure she’d shouted his name, but all that came out was a hoarse croak. Worse, the effort caused another explosion of fuzzy dots. Needing both hands to cling to the door frame, Andi abandoned the phone.
It clattered to the concrete, bouncing a few times in the process. The back popped off on the first bounce. The battery spilled out on the second. The illuminated display went dead before the instrument finally settled.
Andi cursed but didn’t dare release her death grip to bend over and scoop up the pieces until the haze cleared. Even then she went down slowly, hand over hand, inch by inch.
She’d probably scared the bejesus out of Crash. She had to call him back before he hit the panic button and dialed 911. Sinking to the concrete, she fumbled for her phone’s guts.
She slid the battery in, snapped on the back and searched the directory for Crash’s number. The numbers blurred, then cleared. Before she could press Call, however, footsteps pounded across the crushed-shell drive next door.
“Andi!”
The shout ricocheted through the night, deep and harsh and razored with something close to panic.
Oh, hell! Crash must have activated an emergency-response net that looped instantly from him to Sue Ellen to Dave.
Even as Andi braced herself for the storm she suspected would come, a treacherous relief rolled through her. She couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather have charge to her rescue than Dave. Like most Special Ops types, he’d racked up enough medical training to qualify as an EMT.
Not that she needed an EMT. She was ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain the fuzzy spots sprang from her idiocy in forgetting to eat. It was the point-one percent that closed her throat and made her gulp with relief when her ex barreled into the garage.
Dave spotted Andi on the floor beside the Tahoe’s open door and slowed his full-out sprint. His training went too deep to rush heedlessly to her side.
In two seconds flat he’d sized up the need for body substance isolation and assessed site s
afety. Reassured he wouldn’t endanger Andi by setting a spark to spilled fuel or otherwise exacerbating a potentially lethal situation, he hunkered down beside her.
“What happened?”
Embarrassment and more than a touch of worry simmered in the depths of her green eyes, but they were clear and focused.
“I got a little dizzy while I was talking to Crash and, uh, dropped the phone.”
Dave didn’t touch her. Not yet. But he had to ball his fists as he searched for signs of trauma and his mind cataloged the critical ABCs. Airways open, with no apparent obstruction. Breathing rapid but even. Circulation okay, judging by her color.
“Do you still feel dizzy?”
“No. Just silly.”
He found her pulse, strong and steady under the warm skin of her neck. “Any chest pains?”
“No.”
“Nausea?”
“No.”
“Damn!” Dave swallowed the foul taste of his fear and forced a grin. “And here I was hoping we’d have to go mouth-to-mouth.”
That earned him a shaky laugh. Keeping his grin in place, he scooped her into his arms and carried her around the front end of the Tahoe.
“Let’s get you to the ER.”
“I’m okay now. Honestly. We don’t need to hit the ER.”
“Yeah, we do.”
Biting her lip, Andi let him ease her into the passenger seat and click the seat belt into place. She sat silent while he called ahead and had Doc Ramirez paged. Despite her breezy assurances, those bouncing black spots had shaken her more than she wanted to admit.
Since Hurlburt Field operated only the day clinic, they had to drive the additional miles to the regional hospital at Eglin. Doc Ramirez was waiting at the ER. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders, and her purple soccer shirt proudly proclaimed she was a Mustang Mom, but she brushed aside Andi’s apologies for taking her away from her son’s game.
“We were ahead three to one. My husband will cheer the team to victory. If you’ll come with me, we’ll check you over.”
She flicked a glance at Dave, obviously weighing her patient’s right to privacy against his very solid, very determined presence.
“Why don’t you have a seat in the waiting room, Colonel? I’ll let you know when we’re done.”
His jaw locked. A vein popped out on one temple. Hastily, Andi intervened.
“It’s okay. I’d like him to come back with me.”
“Your call,” Ramirez said with a shrug. “This way, please.”
THE ENTOURAGE SURROUNDING Andi soon included Dr. Ramirez, the attending ER physician, a nurse, a lab tech, an EKG specialist and Dave. Draped in a hospital gown, she was probed, poked and stuck.
The initial EKG results seemed to reassure the flight surgeons and eased some of the grim lines on Dave’s face. After the EKG specialist wheeled away her cart and the lab tech trotted off with his blood samples, the docs withdrew to confer. Andi used the semiprivacy to peel off the disposable electrodes.
“You missed one,” Dave commented.
She felt under the front opening of the hospital gown. “Where?”
“Here.”
Chin tucked, he brushed her hand aside. His knuckles grazed her left breast en route to the stickie. As he tugged at the stubborn patch, Andi went very still. She could feel the adhesive stretching her skin, but that small sensation got lost in the others bombarding her.
His breath warmed her cheek. The familiar scent of him chased away the hospital smells. Heat from his skin transferred to hers. Or maybe it was the other way around. She still hadn’t decided when a sharp rap sounded on the exam room door and Sue Ellen popped in.
Andi jerked, wincing as the stickie gave way with a section of her epidermis still attached. She looked up to find S.E.’s startled gaze fixed on the hand buried inside Andi’s hospital gown.
“Sorry,” her friend murmured, brows soaring. “They told me it was okay to come in.”
“It is.”
Unflustered, Dave withdrew his hand and deposited the electrode in the trash. Sue Ellen’s brows went from full mast to straight-lined.
“What’s the story? What happened, Andi?”
“I had a couple of dizzy spells. I’m pretty sure they sprang from the fact that I got so busy I forgot to eat.” Flinging up a hand, she forestalled S.E.’s scathing comment. “That won’t happen again.”
“You think that’s all it was? Really?”
“Really. So does my cardiologist. The EKG was normal and my heart sounded strong. If the blood work comes back okay, they’re going to send me home.”
S.E. speared a glance in Dave’s direction.
“Don’t worry,” he drawled. “I’ll feed her before I tuck her in for the night.”
Sue Ellen looked as though she wanted to comment on the tucking-in part. Particularly after the scene she’d walked in on a few moments ago. Thankfully she refrained. Andi wasn’t sure she could explain those breathless moments to anyone’s satisfaction, her own included.
Just when she thought she’d skated, her friend jumped on another sensitive topic.
“I don’t understand. You were having dizzy spells and you called Crash? Why didn’t you call me? I’m closer. Or Dave, for God’s sake.”
With her back to Dave, S.E. didn’t notice his sudden frown but Andi bore the full brunt of it. Her ex’s expression reminded her forcibly of the awkward moment in her kitchen, when he’d discovered her in the younger man’s arms.
“I wondered that myself,” Dave bit out.
“I didn’t call Crash. He called me. To get Sue Ellen’s phone number,” Andi tacked on as Dave’s expression hardened.
“Really?”
Sue Ellen didn’t go so far as to purr, but her smile conveyed a distinctly feline satisfaction.
“I’d better call him back and let him know how you’re doing. The poor baby was soooo worried about you.”
CHAPTER 9
Jim’s Café dished up the best hamburgers and home fries in northwest Florida and was a favorite hangout for Special Tactics troops. Dave acknowledged the greeting of several men in jeans and variations of camouflage gear as he steered Andi to a booth tucked back in a corner. Stale cigarette smoke drifted in from the bar but couldn’t compete with the ambrosia of sizzling onions and charbroiled meat.
Dave didn’t bother with a menu. “Two Number Fours,” he instructed the waitress. “Load ’em up with fried onions, go light on the mayo and hold the pickles.” He hooked a brow in Andi’s direction. “Right?”
“Right.”
Four years, and he remembered her aversion to anything and everything cucumberish. The knowledge warmed the small part of her not focused on the monster platters being delivered to the couple in the next booth. Those heaping plates reminded Andi of how hungry she was…and how dumb it was to go all day without eating.
“Sorry you have to keep charging to my rescue,” she said, embarrassed all over again at her stupidity. “Last week the bookshelves, tonight a trip to the ER.”
“I like charging to your rescue. It makes for a nice change.”
“What do you mean?”
“You never needed me before.”
“That’s not true!”
Dave had tossed the comment out without thinking. Her startled response made him reconsider its impact.
“Yeah, babe,” he said slowly, “it is. Looking back, I think neither one of us really needed the other.”
Surprise and hurt darkened her eyes. “How can you say that? We were consumed with need. I wanted you from the first night we met. I know, those first years, you wanted me every bit as much.”
“You’re right. I did. Still do.”
She went stiff. “Dave…”
“Don’t worry. I promised I wouldn’t push you and I won’t.”
The rigidity went out of her shoulders, but the hurt lingered in her eyes. “What are you saying then? That wanting each other doesn’t equate to love?”
“I think I�
�m saying want is only a part of love. There should be respect…”
“There was,” she countered. “We’ve always respected each other’s drive and dedication.”
“And commitment…”
“Okay, we screwed up that part. We let our commitment to our jobs get in the way of our marriage.”
“And need,” Dave finished. “There should be more than physical craving.”
“I needed you, dammit.”
“For what?”
“For a thousand things!” She flapped an impatient hand. “Balancing the checkbook. Setting the timers on the sprinkler system. Picking up our uniforms at the laundry when I couldn’t get there.”
“Real heavy stuff…and nothing you didn’t do yourself when I wasn’t around.”
“I’m not sure I understand where you’re coming from with this,” she said stiffly. “What did you want from me? Weak and helpless?”
“Could you have done either?”
“No.” Angry now, she slapped her shoulder blades against the back of the booth. “Neither could you, if I might point out the obvious.”
“True.”
“Let’s turn this around,” she said, still ruffled. “What did you need me for?”
Dave shagged a hand through his hair. He’d started this. He had to finish.
“If you want the truth, I didn’t know how much I needed you until after we split. The longer we were apart, the more I missed scraping you off the ceiling when headquarters issued what you considered another idiotic directive. I missed the way you always insist on ordering pepperoni on your pizza and proceed to pick it all off. I even missed your nasty habit of using my razor to shave your legs, then forgetting to tell me the blade was dull.”
“Real heavy stuff,” she mocked, echoing his previous refrain.
Dave figured he’d waded in this far, he might as well go for the deep water.
“The truth is, losing you left a gaping hole in my life. I’ve learned to live with it, but it sure makes for empty days and long nights.”
He waited for her reaction, smiling a little to mask the intensity of his feelings.
He’d run the full gamut tonight, from the stark terror that had sent him sprinting across the drive to Andi’s house to crashing relief to teeth-grinding irritation that she’d brought tonight’s crisis on herself. He’d refrained from chewing her up one side and down the other for that bit of stupidity. Barely. Now here he was spilling his guts, while she frowned and fiddled with the saltshaker.
Ex Marks the Spot (Harlequin Next) Page 9