by Elle James
When she opened the bathroom door, she saw that Colt had left her a sweatshirt and sweatpants on the guest-room bed. She dried and tugged them on, pulling the drawstring tight around her waist. He was right, the clothes were too big, but they felt heavenly.
She took the towels back to the bathroom to hang them and considered her dirty clothing on the floor. The hem of the worn ankle-length coarse cotton dress was torn and filthy with dirt and grime. The long sleeves were just as bad except they were soiled with her blood. The black utilitarian shoes were scuffed, the heels worn unevenly since she’d inherited them well used.
She wadded up the dress and shoved it into the bathroom wastebasket before putting the shoes on top of it, all the time feeling as if she was committing a sin. Then again, she’d already done that, hadn’t she.
Downstairs, she stepped into the kitchen to see Colt slip three more pancakes onto the stack he already had on the plate.
He turned as if sensing her in the doorway and she was reminded of the first time she’d seen him. All she’d noticed that night was his Army uniform—before he’d turned and she’d seen his face.
That he was handsome hadn’t even registered. What she’d seen was a kind face. She’d been desperate and Colt McCloud had suddenly appeared as if it had been meant to be. Just as he’d been here tonight, she thought.
“Last time I saw you, you were on leave and talking about staying in the military,” she said as he pulled out a kitchen chair for her and she sat down. “I was afraid that you had and that—” her voice broke as she met his gaze “—you wouldn’t be here.”
“I’m on leave now. My father died.”
“I’m sorry.”
He set down the plate of pancakes. “Dig in.”
Always the gentleman, she thought as he joined her at the table. “I made a bunch. There’s fresh sweet butter. If you don’t like chokecherry syrup—”
“I love it.” She slid several of the lightly browned cakes onto her plate. The aroma that rose from them made her stomach growl loudly. She slathered them with butter and covered them with syrup. The first bite was so delicious that she actually moaned, making him smile.
“I was going to ask how they are,” he said with a laugh, “but I guess I don’t have to.”
She devoured the pancakes before helping herself to more. They ate in a companionable silence that didn’t surprise her any more than Colt making her pancakes in the middle of the night or opening his door to her, no questions asked. It was as if it was something he did all the time. Maybe it was, she thought, remembering the first night they’d met.
He hadn’t hesitated when she’d told him she needed his help. She’d looked into his blue eyes and known she could trust him. He’d been so sweet and caring that she’d almost told him the truth. But she’d stopped herself. Because she didn’t think he would believe her? Or because she didn’t want to involve him? Or because, at that point, she thought she could still handle things on her own?
Unfortunately, she no longer had the option of keeping the truth from him.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” she said, after swallowing her last bite of pancake and wiping her mouth with her napkin. The food had helped, but her body ached all over and fatigue had weakened her. “You had to be surprised to see me again, especially with me showing up at your door in the middle of the night looking like I do.”
“I didn’t even know you knew my last name.”
“After that night in Billings... Before I left your hotel room, while you were still sleeping, I looked in your wallet.”
“You planned to take my money?” He’d had over four hundred dollars in there. He’d been headed home to his fiancée, he’d told her. But the fiancée, who was supposed to pick him up at the airport, had called instead with crushing news. Not only was she not picking him up, she was in love with one of his best friends, someone he’d known since grade school.
He’d been thinking he just might rent a car and drive home to confront the two of them, he’d told Lola later. But, ultimately, he’d booked a flight for the next morning to where he was stationed and, with time to kill, had taken a taxi to a hotel, paid for a room and headed for the hotel bar. Two drinks later, he’d run into Lola as he’d headed from the bar to the men’s room. Lola had saved him from getting stinking drunk that night. Also from driving to Gilt Edge to confront his ex-fiancée and his ex-friend.
“I hate to admit that I thought about taking your money,” she said. “I could have used it.”
“You should have taken it then.”
She smiled at him and shook her head. “You were so kind to me, so tender...” Her cheeks heated as she held his gaze and remembered being naked in his arms. “I’m sure I gave you the wrong impression of me that night. It wasn’t like me to...with a complete stranger.” She bit her lower lip and felt tears well in her eyes again.
“There is nothing wrong with the impression you left with me. As a matter of fact, I’ve thought of you often.” He smiled. It was a great smile. “Every time I heard one of those songs that we’d danced to in my hotel room that night—” his gaze warmed to a Caribbean blue “—I thought of you.”
She looked away to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat before she could speak again. “It wasn’t an old boyfriend I was running from that night. I let you believe that because I doubted you’d have believed the truth. I did need your help, though, because right before I collided with you in that hallway, I’d seen one of them in the hotel. I knew it was just a matter of time before they found me and took me back.”
“Took you back?”
“I wasn’t a fugitive from the law or some mental institution,” she said quickly. “It’s worse than that.”
He narrowed his gaze with concern. “What could be worse than that?”
“The Society of Lasting Serenity.”
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Copyright © 2018 by Barbara Heinlein
ISBN-13: 9781488033261
One Intrepid SEAL
Copyright © 2018 by Mary Jernigan
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