She shook her head hard, as if angry at herself. “That was a bad idea.”
He merely smiled.
“I mean it. This isn’t what I want.”
He stared at her swollen, parted lips, then dropped his attention to her still-quivering body, the puckered nipples thrusting against her blouse, the way her legs had grown so weak she still had to lean against the desk.
“Yeah. Right.”
“I mean, I don’t want to want this.”
Her serious tone began to dig through the lust-haze in his brain. “Care to explain?”
She paused, then, to his surprise, said, “I wish you weren’t in the Navy.”
His jaw dropped. “What?”
“I hate that you’re going back to active duty so soon.”
He opened his mouth to tell her wouldn’t be gone long, to share with her the news he would be sharing with his grandparents in the morning—that he’d accepted an offer to teach new recruits at the Coronado training facility. That he was coming home for good.
Before he could say anything, she went on, her voice gaining a hint of bitterness. “I honestly don’t know how you career guys do it. Stay sane while you’re surrounded with all that. I worked in a war zone for a year and still have nightmares that wake me up screaming.”
“Look, Jess—”
“I guess what I’m trying to say is, this has been a wonderful night. One I’m never going to forget. But I really don’t want to go down this road with you.”
“What road?”
“The bloody, always-in-danger, might-never-come-back road,” she admitted with a frown. “I would rather never have this than get a tiny taste of it and then lose it forever.”
This. Them. Him.
He took a step back. Thoughts whirled in his brain. He wanted to tell her the truth—that he’d be back soon, that the risk would be nearly nonexistent once he was an instructor. That he’d be serving the rest of his active duty here in California and would probably be out for good within five years.
But there were still those four months to go. Four months more of being on the front line, where, he knew from experience, life didn’t have much value. The past few months had not been kind to SEALs in Afghanistan—which was where he was going.
So maybe it would be kinder to let it go. Let her have her way. And God willing, when he got back next spring, find her ready to pick up where they’d left off.
“Okay,” he told her with a brief nod. “I understand. It was great seeing you again.”
Her jaw fell open, as if she hadn’t really expected to get what she’d asked for. Tanner hesitated, waiting for her to change her mind. But she remained silent.
Finally, with one shaky smile, he said, “Merry Christmas, Jess.” Then he turned and left her office without another word.
But he didn’t leave the building right away. He had a stop to make first—in the lounge area. After he’d made it, exchanging a few words with the person he’d been seeking, he left the building.
It was five after twelve when he got into his rental car. Christmas: the day he’d been looking forward to sharing with his family for a long time. But right now, all he could think about was how much he wanted to get back on duty and claw through these last four months.
So maybe the life he’d secretly been hoping for could really begin.
Jess stayed in her office after Tanner left, evaluating what had been one of the strangest days of her life. She couldn’t remember another one when she’d ridden such a roller coast of emotions, from shock, to near euphoria, to utter desire, to despair. All caused by presence of the same man. The man she’d just, basically, kicked out of her life.
“You are an idiot,” she told herself, having reached that conclusion in ten minutes. Because, really, what kind of fool gave up the chance at something wonderful because she was too afraid of something bad that might come afterward?
Jess had never been a coward, but she’d sure acted like one tonight.
Still angry with herself about it, she went back out to prowl the corridors. As she passed the recreation room, she saw Mr. Preston, still sitting quietly in his chair, a blanket over his knees.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Fine thanks. Just gonna sit here a little longer, then I’ll head up.”
She sat beside him, sharing the silence.
“That friend of yours is a good sort,” he finally said. “Nice of him to stop in and say goodbye before going home to his folks.”
“He did?”
“Ayuh.”
“What did he say?”
The old man never turned his head to look at her, but the faintest of smiles touched his lips and he sat up a bit straighter in his chair. “He shook my hand and said, ‘Thank you for your service.’ Then he saluted me and left.”
Jess felt tears prick her eyes, seeing how very much the gesture had touched this proud, quiet old man. Tanner hadn’t been happy when he’d left here, she knew that, yet he’d taken the time to reach out a hand in friendship and brotherhood to this complete stranger.
What a good man. What an amazingly wonderful man.
She’d found him twice in her life. Once she’d lost him due to fate and war and bad timing. This time, she’d let him slip right through her fingers.
That was a mistake she could rectify. It wasn’t too late. She wouldn’t let it be.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t go after him now—she was on duty until six a.m. So she had to spend the night thinking about what she’d said, how he’d taken it, and what to do next. The hours stretched out interminably. She felt like a kid who couldn’t sleep Christmas Eve because of the nervous anticipation about the morning to come. She only hoped she hadn’t messed things up so badly that she wouldn’t have the happy Christmas morning she was hoping for.
As soon as her shift was over, Jess went home. She had looked up Tanner’s grandparents’ home address before leaving the center, Miss Margie was a very popular volunteer and the info hadn’t been hard to track down. But Jess would never have barged in on their Christmas morning. She didn’t have anywhere else go to, considering her parents were, as usual, spending the holidays in the Caribbean, so she spent most of Christmas morning sleeping.
By noon, she couldn’t wait any longer. Hoping she wasn’t making a big mistake, she drove to the house, went to the door and rang the bell.
Miss Margie answered. “Why, Doctor D’Angelo, what are you doing here?”
“Merry Christmas,” she said, trying to smile though her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. “I’d like to talk to Tanner for a few minutes, and I know he’s leaving tomorrow.”
“Come in, come in!”
She entered the house, immediately smelling the delightful aromas of baking turkey, pine and gingery spices. Tanner must have heard her voice, because he walked out of the nearby living room, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open. “Jess?”
“Hi. I was wondering if we could talk?”
“If you’ll excuse me,” his grandmother said, “I have to check on dinner. You will stay, won’t you, Doc?”
Jess looked at Tanner, then at Margie. “Can I wait and answer that after Tanner and I talk?”
“Of course,” the older woman said.
Once they were alone, Tanner grabbed her hand and tugged her outside, onto the front porch. As if suddenly realizing she might not be here with good news, he asked, “Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine. I’ve been thinking about what I said to you before you left last night.”
He held up a hand, waving off her apology. “Don’t worry about it, I really do understand.”
She grabbed that hand, twining her fingers through his. “I was being stupid. Believe me, Lieutenant Boudreau, I am not a coward.”
“I never thought you were,” he said, lifting his hand to her face and brushing his fingertips against her skin.
She curled her cheek into his palm, noting, of course, his strength, but also the innate tend
erness she’d seen in him from their very first meeting all those years ago. “I couldn’t let you leave again, not so soon, not without taking advantage of the little time you have here. And not without letting you know that I care—very much—about when you’re coming back.” Taking a deep breath for courage, hoping she hadn’t misread his feelings, that hers weren’t one-sided, she added, “I’ll be here waiting for you, if you want me to. I don’t care how long it takes.”
He smiled, then actually started to laugh.
She moved her lips to his rough palm. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, Doc. I’ve been waiting for you for more than three years.”
She edged closer to him, loving the way his hands fit so perfectly in the indentation of her hips. He drew her close, staring down at her, those gentle brown eyes gleaming with emotion.
“Now come inside and you can be there when I share the news with my family, because the wait isn’t going to be nearly as long as you think.”
He wouldn’t say more. Intrigued by the cryptic tone and the sexy smile, she couldn’t wait to hear the rest. But first, she just needed to taste him. Feel his heart beating against her chest, share his warm breath, taste his tender mouth.
They melted together in a kiss as natural and easy as if they’d been long-time lovers. As if they’d always been meant to be together.
And somehow, though the future was still uncertain and she didn’t know how long her wait might be, she suspected that someday they would.
Epilogue
NOTICE:
To all residents of Rolling Acres—Remember, this year’s Christmas party will double as a wedding shower for our own “Doc” Jessica D’Angelo. Help us celebrate Doc’s upcoming marriage to Miss Margie’s grandson Tanner “Santa” Boudreau by bringing shower/housewarming gifts in lieu of holiday goodies.
And don’t forget: The wedding will take place on New Year’s Eve, right here in the common room and all are invited!
WORTH THE RISK
Elle Kennedy
Chapter One
Skylark Springs hadn’t changed one damn bit. Still the same quaint little place, with its quaint houses and quaint shops and—well, quaint was the magic word when it came to Jason Anders’s hometown. Somehow he’d thought it might be different, that coming home after all this time would fill him with a sense of peace and belonging. But no such luck. The moment he drove past the bright red sign welcoming him home, the claustrophobia set in.
Drawing in a breath, he eased on the gas pedal and did his best not to focus on the scenery or the curious eyes that landed on his shiny, cobalt-blue pickup truck as it ventured through town. Folks around here didn’t like flashy cars. Not that his pickup was flashy by any means, but it was clearly brand-new, an impulse buy he hadn’t been able to resist. No point in letting his recent inheritance sit in the bank collecting dust and interest.
As he drove down Main Street, he almost expected tomatoes to be thrown at his windshield. Either that, or a parade to welcome him. He suspected the people of Skylark Springs were torn between being proud to have a real-life hometown hero, or furious that said hero hadn’t bothered attending the funeral of their other hero. He supposed it depended on which Anders they deemed more heroic—Jason or his late father.
But alas, no tomatoes or parade. Apparently the townsfolk didn’t care about him one way or the other, and that was fine by him. There was only one person whose opinion he was interested in—and if any produce was going to be hurled, he knew it would be by the hand of Callie Carraway.
Unless she’d purchased a gun in these last four years.
Which was kind of a frightening thought.
He was uncharacteristically nervous as he neared Odds N’ Ends, the corner shop that Callie’s aunt owned and where Callie had been working since she was a teenager. It was one of those cheesy tourist stores, its merchandise consisting of postcards and crafts and pointless knickknacks people ended up throwing out years later, when they realized Skylark Springs wasn’t worth remembering. It didn’t even occur to him that Callie wouldn’t be working at the store anymore. She’d gotten nice and comfortable in her rut years ago, and couldn’t be convinced to step out of her comfort zone.
God knows he’d tried.
And now here he was, hoping to try again. Hoping that maybe this time she could be persuaded.
Good news was—she wasn’t married. Call him a loser, but he’d checked out her Facebook page. Yep, he’d resorted to social networking to stalk the love of his life. Her status had been listed as single, which was a good sign, and she also hadn’t unfriended him—another good sign. Unless he was so inconsequential to her that it hadn’t even crossed her mind to unfriend him. In that case, a bad omen.
Quit overanalyzing.
With a slow exhale, he parked the pickup in front of the shop and hopped out, suddenly wishing he’d worn something more presentable. Like his Navy dress whites or something. Faded blue jeans with a hole in the knee might not bode well for him. Neither would his threadbare Metallica shirt. But those were his only clean clothes. He hadn’t exactly stopped at a laundromat after leaving the naval base.
Rubbing his suddenly damp palms against the front of his jeans, he said a silent prayer and strode into the store. The little bell over the door chimed, announcing his arrival, and a second later, he heard a familiar female voice.
“Hi there, can I help you with anything—you.”
He met Callie Carraway’s gorgeous brown eyes. “Me,” he said ruefully.
Silence.
Jason gulped as Callie slid off the stool behind the cash counter and made her way toward him, her strides slow and wary, as if she were approaching a rabid dog. His pulse took off in a mad sprint. She looked even better than he remembered, much sexier than the woman whose picture he still carried in his wallet. She was tall, with long, colt-like legs and a seriously spectacular chest, but her hair was longer now, sliding over one shoulder in chestnut waves. The Callie in his wallet wore cutoff denim shorts and a pink tank top, her features flawless and make-up-free. The Callie in front of him wore a yellow sundress that swirled around her bare knees, and shiny lip-gloss that made her mouth look lush and utterly kissable.
Of course, that mouth tightened in a thin line when she approached him. “You’re back,” she said.
“Thank you for stating the obvious.” His lips twitched. “For a moment there, I thought I was still at the base.”
Callie rolled her eyes. “Did the Navy finally kick you out? I figured they would sooner or later, once they got to know you.”
“Funny. Did you write that one down so you could save it for this very moment?”
“I sure did.” She slanted her head, and a lock of shiny hair fell onto her forehead. “Though I didn’t think I’d ever get to use it.” She frowned. “You didn’t show up for the funeral.”
His jaw tightened. “I was overseas.”
Callie sighed. “You wouldn’t have come even if you were in the country, and we both know it.”
She was right. He and his dad hadn’t even been on speaking terms when the old man died. The last contact they’d had was when his father sent that letter informing Jason he was updating his will. I’m leaving it all to you, but only because I can’t find a charity I like. And he’d signed the letter Lewis. Not Dad, not even ‘Your father, Lewis.’ Which said a lot about their relationship.
“He wouldn’t have wanted me to come,” Jason finally said, his voice gruff. “I was a disappointment to him, remember?”
She waved a careless hand. “Well, he was an asshole, remember?”
He had to grin. “How dare you speak ill of the dead?”
“He was a tyrant, Jase. His being dead doesn’t change that.”
Jase. His heart warmed at the familiar nickname. Nobody but Callie had ever called him that. He was surprised to hear her say it, and equally surprised that she was siding with him on the issue of his dad. Everyone in town considered Lewis Anders to be some sort of sain
t. Only Jason and Callie had known the truth. And sure, maybe Jason should have made more of an effort to attend the damn funeral, but he hadn’t been able to muster up the motivation. He had no desire to sit there listening to everyone sing his father’s praises. Lewis Anders the town savior. The businessman who’d swooped in and brought jobs and money to Skylark Springs. The mayor who’d protected the town.
The man who’d beat the shit out of his son . . .
Choking down a lump of bitterness, Jason shoved his hands in his pockets. “Let’s not talk about him.”
There it was again, that shrewd tilt of her head. He’d seen the gesture so many times he knew exactly what was coming.
No-holds-barred sarcasm.
“Then should we talk about how you re-upped without telling me, left town without saying goodbye, and disappeared for four years?”
He felt his face go hot. “Callie . . . ”
“Or I could tell you what I had for breakfast that day,” she went on, an angry blush creeping into her cheeks. “You know, when I was waiting for you at the diner, when you didn’t show up, and I had to find out from Eddie the barber that you left town?”
“Callie . . . ”
“Oh, I know what I can tell you.” She flashed him a stony smile. “Get lost.”
He raised both eyebrows. “Are you serious?”
“Yep.” Her smile widened. “Get lost, Jason. I don’t know why you’re back, and I don’t particularly care.”
“You won’t even give me the chance to explain?” There was an edge to his voice. He valiantly tried to rein in his indignation, but as usual, Callie brought out his argumentative nature. It was the sarcasm. It always drove him nuts.
“You don’t have to explain.” She placed her hands on her hips. “I got the message loud and clear.”
“And what message was that?” he said in a low voice.
“That being a SEAL meant more to you than being with me. That I meant so little to you that you couldn’t even be bothered to say goodbye.”
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