Her Only Chance

by Cheryl Anne Porter

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I think you did.” He put up a hand to stop her protests. “Forget it. It’s okay. We told each other a year ago it was over. And I guess it is. Hell, what’s a little sex between friends, right? I guess I’m the one to blame here. After all, I did call you first.”

  “I would have called you if you hadn’t called me.”

  “You don’t have to say that.”

  “But it’s true. I had to talk to you.”

  Kell jumped up from the sofa and paced away a few steps. He turned to her, crossing his arms over his chest. “So,” he said angrily. “Give me the straight psychological dope, Dr. Winslow. I’m listening. Tell me about this book deal.”

  Defeated, knowing she had no other choice, Jamie began. “All right. It was one of those dumb-luck things. Here I was, talking to some woman about my thesis, and suddenly, I have an agent and an incredible offer. It’s big, Kell. I’m supposed to be some sort of phenomenon. A guru to the masses. Woman-to-woman sort of thing. And, yes, my research was sparked by our on-again off-again relationship, I admit it. But it’s not about us directly. I couldn’t tell you before because it’s still confidential. I couldn’t even tell Mom or Donna. There’s a huge publicity campaign planned and the publisher doesn’t want to get up-staged by anyone else before it gets off the ground.”

  Kell’s handsome face was marred by a frown. “When’s all this planned for?”

  “Well, first I have to write the book. I’ve got three months to do that. And I expect the publicity will start a few months afterward. I don’t really know, though.” Sitting there, she wanted nothing more than to be able to get up and go to him, to be held in his arms, to feel safe. She feared, though, that would never again be possible. Her good luck could be the end of them. Talk about closure.

  Kell broke into her sad reflections. “So what’s this got to do with me? Who made you call me?”

  “Dr. Hampton. He’s my professor and mentor. And the one who holds my certification in his hands.”

  “Certification for what?”

  “My license to practice. And the truth is…no license, no credentials. Which means no book deal.”

  “Which means no big bucks.”

  “Well, yes, but you don’t have to make it sound so crass.” Was it crass? She still worried about that. Maybe because it had all come so easily to her. There was a syndrome she knew of regarding new, young millionaires and their guilt over the easy wealth. Was that what she was suffering? Or was it something closer to home? “Still,” she continued, “everything hinges on my being able to back up my book with professional credentials.”

  Kell stared at her as if she were some squishy gray thing that had just crawled out from under a rock. “Your license to practice. And this Dr. Hampton wanted you to call me because…?”

  “Because I need closure. See, before licensing, I’m required to undergo a series of sessions myself. To make sure I’m grounded and well adjusted.”

  “Are you?”

  “In some areas. Not so much where you’re concerned. Which led Dr. Hampton to believe that we—you and I—have some unresolved issues between us. And he won’t sign my certification until I…well, we…achieve closure.”

  Kell just stared at her, his dark eyes penetrating.

  Jamie put a hand to her forehead. “God, it all sounds so, I don’t know, calculating somehow, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, it does.” The detachment was still there in his voice. “Does this professor know about the book deal?”

  “No. Just my agent and the publisher. And now you.”

  “Interesting.” He chuckled, humorlessly. “So the good doctor really threw a monkey wrench into the motor works when he wouldn’t cooperate, didn’t he? So I’m guessing you’re here to achieve closure. That explains your opening line about us having to have sex. And your following it up with the act. Funny. I thought that’s what women always accuse men of doing—solving everything with sex.”

  Jamie sprang to her feet. “I told you I was just teasing when I said that. I never meant for this afternoon to happen. It just happened, the same way it always does with us. But you make me sound cheap, like I’d have sex to secure a book deal.”

  “I didn’t say it. You did. So tell me, Jamie, am I out of your system?”

  Jamie gasped. Horrified and hurt, she turned her back to him. “Go to hell, Kellan Chance.”

  Too angry to cry, Jamie grabbed her purse and stalked to the front door. Wrenching it open, she turned to Kell and opened her mouth to speak, only, no words would come. Her gaze locked with his. Kell could have been chiseled out of marble, he was so cold, so still.

  Something snapped inside Jamie. She wanted to hurt him right back. “Goodbye, Kell. I know it’s not the first time you’ve heard that from me. But it is the last.”

  Kell took a step toward her, a fierce look on his face. “There never has been, and there never will be, a final goodbye between you and me, Jamie. You’re only fooling yourself if you think otherwise.” His expression intensified, became predatory…in a strangely sensual way. Like a taunt, a dare straight from the bedroom. “I’m in your blood, Jamie. I’m under your skin. Just like you are with me. So you can say goodbye all you want. But it won’t last.”

  Jamie fought for breath. She had other things she wanted to say to Kell, but again no words would come. Somewhere deep inside her, she knew he was right. It wasn’t over. And it probably never would be.

  5

  STANDING ON A DOORSTEP two days later and already asking himself why he’d thought this was a good idea, Kell rang the doorbell on the tile-roofed Camden residence nestled amongst the well-tended lawns and the waving palm trees of the Officers’ Housing Area on MacDill Air Force Base.

  The door opened. There stood Melanie Camden, dressed in peach capri pants and a matching halter top. It was the damnedest thing to Kell. Here she was a redheaded goddess turned loose on earth, yet he could only think of her as a friend. And then there was Jamie, pretty in a girl-next-door sort of way—yet he had the constant hots for her. Go figure.

  Melanie’s beautiful face lit with pleasure when she saw him. “Why, Kellan Chance. What a nice surprise. Come in.” Her soft Southern voice and her genuine happiness at seeing him were everything Kell needed today.

  Kell stepped over the threshold and stood in the tiled foyer, grateful for the air-conditioned coolness that surrounded him in the impeccably decorated quarters. “Hi, Melanie. Heard anything from Jeff?”

  She closed the door and leaned her back against a wall, crossing her arms over her chest. “As a matter of fact, I have,” she said brightly. “I just talked to him a bit ago. He still sounds so weak, but the doctors are telling him he’s going to be absolutely a hundred percent in several months’ time.”

  Relief washed over Kell. “Oh, hell, Melanie, that’s fabulous news.”

  “Isn’t it? In fact, he’s well enough now that they’re flying him home tomorrow. I wish I’d known that last weekend. I wouldn’t have come back when I did. But still, I can hardly wait.” Suddenly she sobered and leaned forward, putting her hand on his arm. “Kell, he had a message for you. He said to tell you this wasn’t your fault. He doesn’t blame you. Nobody does.”

  Kell drew in a deep breath. The guilt ate at him again. “That’s pretty big of him. And it may even be true, but I can’t help blaming myself anyway. I was the commander. Win or lose, it comes down on my head.”

  Melanie patted his arm. “I know. But I just hate it, Kell. It’s so unfair.” Her expression changed to one of concern. “So, what are they going to do to you? Have you heard anything?”

  He exhaled and shrugged, trying to act as if it were no big deal. “Oh, yeah, I’ve heard. I was at HQ earlier today for further debriefing. Afterward, I went home but couldn’t stand myself and my place, Melanie, so I changed out of my uniform and here I am. I hope it’s okay?”

  “You poor thing. You know it is. In fact, I’m about sick of bein
g by myself here, too. I tell you what, you can stay for supper if you’ll tell me what it is you aren’t telling me.”

  Kell frowned. “Not telling you? What do you mean?”

  “Oh, please. There’s something eating at you, Kell. What is it?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re tough, you know that? But thanks for the supper invitation. I accept. And you might as well know the whole story. I’m looking at a desk job, Melanie. At Special Ops. A damn desk job.”

  Sympathy edged her eyes. “Oh, no. They can’t make a desk jockey out of you. You’ll just die—” She covered her mouth with her fingertips and stared wide-eyed at him. She lowered her hand. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I could just bite my tongue.”

  “Forget it. You didn’t say anything I didn’t already know.”

  “Well, still, I shouldn’t have said it. Of course you won’t die. You’ll be just fine.” She gestured toward the kitchen. “You want some iced tea or a beer?”

  “Tea’s fine.”

  “Good. I’ll get us both some.” She turned around and walked away, calling out behind her, “Why don’t you come in here with me. I’ll take some steaks out, and we can talk. Anything else going on with you? How’s your leg?”

  Following behind her as ordered, and wondering why it was that he found her so easy to talk to when he didn’t normally open up to anyone, Kell answered, “It’s fine. The stitches come out in a few days. It’s my head that’s messed up now.”

  “Well, I expect so, what with everything that’s happened recently.” Now in the kitchen, Melanie motioned him to a bar stool on the other side of the breakfast bar. Kell sat down and rested his elbows on the counter. As Melanie set about opening cabinets and pulling out two tall tumblers, Kell began to feel better. He’d been right to come here. Melanie was such a good friend.

  As if she’d heard his thoughts, she said, “So tell Melanie all about it, sugar. And I mean what really brought you here. There’s more, isn’t there?”

  Bemused, Kell shook his head. “I give up. Yes, there’s more. But it’s got nothing to do with the mission. I’m resigned to that and the desk job. What’s done is done. Instead, I need to talk to you about…Jamie Winslow.”

  Melanie whirled around, a glass in one hand, an ice cube in the other. “I just knew it. Why, as I live and breathe, Kellan Chance, you’re here for girl talk, aren’t you? Tell me, honey, what’s happened?”

  Suddenly Kell wasn’t so sure he wanted to tell her. Guys didn’t engage in…he winced…girl talk. “It’s long and drawn out,” he said, hedging.

  “Well, of course it is. That’s because it’s about a woman.” Raising her eyebrows archly, Melanie dropped the ice cube into the glass. “We are complicated creatures, darlin’. But, lucky for you, I have all the time in the world. Don’t chicken out now.”

  Kell pulled back, not sure if he was insulted or amused. “I never chickened out on anything in my life. But you’re right. Okay, to make a long story short, she came over—”

  “She did? To your place?” Melanie’s eyes were bright with delicious curiosity. Her Southern accent fairly dripped molasses. “When was this?”

  Kell could see this wasn’t going to be easy. Women wanted every detail. “Two days ago. Monday. About 3:00 p.m.”

  “What was she wearing?”

  “Clothes, Melanie. I don’t know. Shorts and a blouse. Sandals.”

  “See? You did know.”

  “All right, I did. Anyway, she came over with some story about being worried about me and about needing closure before she could get her license to practice and…well, there’s more but she asked me not to tell anybody else. It has to do with her career.”

  “Well, honey, skip the parts you can’t tell me. I want the juicy stuff, anyway. The stuff that happened once you had her in your hot little clutches inside that wild bachelor pad of yours.”

  Kell grinned and shook his head in amused disbelief. “Melanie, have you ever considered writing for those soap operas you love? You’d be great at it. My ‘wild bachelor pad’? Where’d you get that?”

  “Oh, like you’re a monk. Look at you, sweetheart. How do you keep the women off you?”

  Kell made a broad gesture and looked down at himself. “Do you see any women here?”

  Melanie shook her head. “That’s beside the point. Spill your guts, honey.”

  Feeling embarrassment climb up his neck and face, Kell looked away from her, not knowing exactly how to proceed or whether he even should. But he knew he would. He could deny Melanie nothing. He owed her, the way he saw it. Her husband was shot up and in the hospital because of him. The least he could do was answer her questions. Besides, she was so relentless that somehow she got everything out of him anyway. And the truth was, he needed someone to talk to right now. “We…well, we ended up in bed.”

  Melanie slumped dramatically against the refrigerator. “Oh, I just knew it. The romance of it all.” She put a hand to her chest. “I need to catch my breath.”

  Kell chuckled. “Knock it off, Melanie. Jeff’s been gone too long.”

  Melanie stood up straight. “Honey, you got that right. That man needs to hurry up and get well.” She pulled a pitcher of iced tea out of the refrigerator and walked over to Kell. “But we were talking about you and Miss Winslow.” She handed him his glass. “Here you go. Now, do I hear wedding bells in the near future?”

  Kell took a welcome swig from his glass. His throat was suddenly dry. “Not even close. We had a fight and she left.”

  Melanie’s eyes widened. “I have got to sit down.” She pulled out the other bar stool. “What in the world did you fight about, Kell?”

  What could he say? That he’d accused her of using him and sex to secure her book deal? “Well, I can’t really say…”

  “I see. Well, no matter what you said to her, you were obviously wrong. You need to make it up to her.”

  Kell couldn’t believe this. “Why do I have to be the one who was wrong?”

  “Because you’re the man, sweetie. Men always do something.”

  “I said something. You women always stick together, no matter what.”

  “Yes, we do. And that’s because we know you men. Now, what are you going to do about Miss Winslow?”

  “Nothing. It’s over.”

  “I’ve heard this before—and about this same woman. Now, tell me this…are you sorry for what you said to her?”

  “Yes.” Kell hung his head, feeling as if he were ten years old again and was standing in front of his mother, who’d just got caught him beating up on T.J.

  “Well then, if you’re sorry, you need to tell her that.”

  Kell looked up at Melanie, ready to protest. But she had an eyebrow arched in such a way that said he’d better not disobey her. Besides, he really was sorry. “Well, I guess I could call her.”

  Melanie smiled…but shook her head. “You are so precious. No, you can’t call her, honey. But you can go see her and apologize in person. And you can also take her a big old bunch of pretty-smelling flowers and a nice card. And then, you can only pray the woman will forgive you.”

  Kell could just see that scenario—him standing there with flowers and his heart in his hands. Pathetic. He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Why would I do that?”

  Melanie was undaunted. “For lots of reasons.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Because you were wrong. Because you love her. Because you need her to be your best friend and not me. And because it’s eating you up to have her mad at you.”

  Kell pulled back to stare at her. “What makes you think that?”

  Melanie put her hand on his arm. Her expression was sympathetic. “Just looking at you, you poor thing. You haven’t shaved. Your clothes are wrinkled. You look like you’ve lost weight. Honey, you’ve even got dark circles under your eyes. Now, you know I love you, but you look like hell. You’re going to go home, get some sleep, and then tomorrow, you’re going to go get that woman to forgive yo
u.”

  “Like hell, Melanie. I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can. If you don’t, at this rate, sweetie, you’re going to be in the hospital bed next to Jeff’s. And I simply won’t have that. Do you hear me?”

  KELL HAD INDEED heard Melanie—and took her advice the very next afternoon, although he still couldn’t believe he was doing this. There he stood, in the carpeted hallway outside Jamie’s apartment door. He was clean-shaven, his hair was freshly cut and his khaki pants and chambray shirt were ironed to such a degree he could have passed military inspection. In one hand he held flowers—a big old bunch of pretty-smelling ones, as Melanie had put it—in his other a mushy please-forgive-me card. What more proof did he need that the failed SEAL mission had injured more than his leg? If he had any sense left at all, he’d leave before Jamie—

  The door in front of him opened, startling him—as well as Jamie, who gasped and stared at him wide-eyed. “Kellan David Chance. You startled the life out of me.”

  Remembering his mission, Kell answered suavely, “That’s fair, because you take my breath away.”

  He had no idea where those words had come from, but they worked their magic. Awareness and hunger sparked in Jamie’s blue eyes…and more. So much more. “I didn’t…expect to see you today.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t.” And still he couldn’t get enough of looking at her. All he’d ever wanted was right there in front of him. He wanted to hold her up against the wall, to lean in to her…kiss her…touch her…

  “Kell?” He jerked out of his sensual reverie. “How’d you get inside the building?” Jamie asked. “I’m ten floors up, and my entry buzzer didn’t ring.”

  “I slipped in behind a few people who were leaving.” He couldn’t believe he could talk so casually. Because he felt anything but casual around her. Already, his blood seemed to have thickened to the consistency of tar. This was nothing new. He knew exactly what was wrong with him—Jamie’s nearness. She had always affected him this way.

  “Well, that’s great. So much for the security I pay for.”