Debbie Macomber's Navy Box Set

by Debbie Macomber

  “Oh God, Lindy.” He kissed her then, firmly, leaving her in no doubt that he was the one in control, not she.

  Without Lindy being sure how he’d managed it, Rush had her T-shirt off and her bra unfastened and discarded. The next thing Lindy knew, they were both on the sofa, she in a reclining position, Rush above her. He kissed her face, her forehead, her eyes and lips, again and again, until she lost count. Then his mouth worked its way down the delicate line of her jaw to her neck. She sucked in a wobbly breath when his moist, hot lips found one of her nipples and drew it into his mouth for his tongue to torment. When he’d finished with it he moved to the other nipple, licking it until it ached and throbbed, taut and firm.

  He kissed her lips repeatedly, and waves of erotic sensation lapped over her like water pounding relentlessly against the shore.

  Lindy was throbbing everywhere. Her mouth, her tongue, her breasts, her belly and the area between her thighs. Her fingers wove their way through his hair.

  “Rush.” She whispered his name in a tormented whisper. “I love you so much.”

  He stilled, and after a torturous moment he raised his head. Poised as he was above her, his eyes feasted on her, studying her for what seemed an eternity. Then he shook himself as though coming out of a mindless fog. “You don’t mean that. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “I know exactly what I’m saying.” She held his head with her hands and said it again. “I love you.” She punctuated each word with a swift kiss on his lips.

  Rush’s brow folded into a dark, brooding frown. “You can’t possibly mean that. Lindy, for God’s sake, you barely know me!”

  “I know everything I need to.” She smiled up at him, not willing to listen to any more of his arguments.

  As though he wasn’t sure how to respond, Rush slowly disentangled their limbs one by one, the whole time looking as if he didn’t have a clue how they’d ended up that way. When he’d finished, he sat on the edge of the sofa and wiped a hand back and forth over his face.

  “Lindy, listen.”

  “No. I’m not going to because you’re going to argue with me, and I won’t let you.” She sat upright, their thighs so close they touched.

  “It’s only natural….”

  Lindy slid off the sofa and pressed one knee to the floor so she could look him in the eye, but his gaze stubbornly refused to meet hers.

  “I know exactly what you’re going to say.”

  His face was tight with what looked like embarrassment as he reached for her T-shirt and handed it to her. Lindy smiled and slipped it over her head.

  “I love you,” she repeated, feeling more sure of herself every time she said it.

  “Lindy….”

  “I’m not too young to know my own mind.” When his gaze shot to her, she knew she’d stumbled over one of his objections. “I’m twenty-two years old, for heaven’s sake. I’m not a child.”

  He opened his mouth to argue with her, but she pressed her finger over his lips to silence him. “Now this is the biggie. You’re worried about what happened with Paul and you think all this emotion I feel for you has to do with him. I can understand your concern, and in the beginning you might have been right. But not now. I was mulling this over the other night. Thinking about how low I was when I moved to Seattle and how I was convinced nothing good would ever happen to me again. Then I met you, and, Rush…” she stopped, biting into her bottom lip as the emotion filled her eyes.

  “There’s no need….”

  “Yes, there is.” Her hands cupped his face, her gaze delving into his, showing him all the love that came shining through from her heart. “When I think about everything that led me to move to Seattle I haven’t a single regret. Not one. All the pain, all the disillusionment was worth it. In fact, I’ll always be grateful to Paul because it was through him that I found you.”

  “Lindy, stop. Don’t say any more.”

  “But I have to. Don’t you see?”

  Rush closed his eyes and pressed his cheek next to her tear-stained one. His breathing was as labored as her own, but otherwise he didn’t move.

  “It took what happened with Paul for me to find you, appreciate you, understand you. I love you so much…. I can’t keep it inside anymore.”

  “Oh, Lord, don’t say that.”

  Once more, she pressed her finger over his lips. “I don’t want anything from you. Nothing. You didn’t ask for this, and I’ve probably embarrassed the hell out of you by blurting it out. I apologize, but Rush—my noble, honorable Rush—I do love you.”

  She stood then, her legs a little shaky. “Having gotten that off my chest, I’m going to leave you.”

  “Lindy?” His gruff voice stopped her.

  “Yes?”

  He had the look of a man who’d been pulled apart on a torture rack. He rubbed a hand down over his face and then shook his head. “Nothing.”

  * * *

  The following morning Lindy woke to hear Rush rummaging around the kitchen, albeit quietly, no doubt hoping to escape without having to confront her. She climbed out of bed and greeted him with a warm smile.

  “’Morning.”

  He grumbled something in return.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  He gave her a look that told her he hadn’t. “I’ve got watch today.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “It’s Saturday. How come you aren’t sleeping in?”

  She dropped her eyes. “I wanted to be sure of something.”

  “What?”

  “That you believe what I told you last night.”

  His gaze found hers and Lindy could tell he was struggling within himself. The stern look he wore so often in the morning softened somewhat, but when he spoke his voice remained gruff. “Listen, I’m not much of a conversationalist at this time of day, and now probably isn’t the best place to discuss this.” He paused as though to compose his thoughts, sighed and then continued. “I want you to know, I’m truly flattered that you think you love me.”

  “But—”

  “But,” he cut in, “you can’t trust what you’re feeling right now. So let’s leave it at that. Okay?”

  “Leave it?” she flared. “Rush, no….”

  “I’ll be your friend, Lindy, but that’s all I ever intend to be.”

  “My friend?”

  “And that’s it, so don’t argue.” He downed the last of his coffee and set the cup in the sink with as much force as if he intended to shove it down the drain. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Okay. If that’s the way you want it.”

  “I do.”

  “Then I’d be honored to have you for a friend, Rush Callaghan.”

  He paused, his back to her. “No more kissing, Lindy. I mean that.”

  “No kissing,” she echoed.

  “We’re going to live as brother and sister from here on out.”

  “Brother and sister.” Lindy knew that would last until about lunchtime tomorrow, if that long.

  “And if it proves too difficult for us, then I’ll make arrangements to live aboard the Mitchell.”

  “If you think it’s for the best,” she agreed, doing her best to swallow her amusement. Rush’s reaction was exactly as she’d guessed it would be. “If that’s what you honestly want.”

  His hand slammed against the counter. “You know it isn’t,” he said, and whirled around to face her. “Damn it all to hell. Have you the slightest notion of how close we came to making love last night?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ve never known a woman who could tie me into knots the way you do. I promised myself I wasn’t going to touch you again, and here it is seven-thirty in the morning and I want you so damn much I hurt.”

  Silently she stepped to his side and looked up at him, her eyes wide and innocent.

  “Damn it, Lindy,” he groaned. “Why do you have to be so beautiful?” He slipped his arms around her waist and exhaled sharply. “Now kiss me before I go. I’ll be bac
k as soon as I can.”

  Obediently she twined her arms around his neck and raised her lips to his. “Anything you say, big brother.”

  Chapter 7

  Freshly ground hamburger squished between Lindy’s long fingers as she meshed the meat and spices together to form patties for the barbecue grill. It was a lovely summer afternoon in a week that had begun with such marvelous promise.

  The front door opened and Rush let himself in to the apartment.

  “Hi,” Lindy called out, pleased to see him. He was fifteen minutes later than usual, and she’d hoped he hadn’t missed the ferry, which ran hourly. “How do barbecued hamburgers sound for dinner?”

  “Fine.”

  The word was clipped and impatient, as though what she served for their evening meal was the least of his concerns. Surprised at his gruff tone, Lindy turned around to find him standing in the doorway, his brow furrowed in a frown so tight it darkened his face.

  “Did you have a bad day?”

  “No.”

  Something was obviously troubling him, but from the hard set of his mouth, she knew it wouldn’t do her any good to ask. In an effort to ignore his surly mood, she hurried to tell him her good news. “I got word from Steve. The Atlantis is due in as early as next week.”

  Rush acknowledged the information with a curt nod.

  “There’s cold pop in the fridge if that interests you.”

  Apparently it didn’t because Rush left her and moved into the living room to turn on the television. Lindy finished her task, washed the hamburger goop from her fingers and joined him there, sitting on the arm of the sofa. She rested her elbow gently on Rush’s shoulder while Susan Hutchinson from Channel 7 relayed the latest news-making incident from the Persian Gulf.

  When Rush pulled out of Bremerton, Lindy knew the Mitchell would be headed for those same trouble-infested waters. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest as she battled to control her anxiety. She hated to think of Rush in any danger and wished the Mitchell was headed for the South Pacific or somewhere equally pleasant.

  Rush must have sensed her fears because he wrapped his arm around her and gently squeezed her waist. Her hand slid over his shoulder and she kissed the top of his head, loving him more each minute of every day.

  “Lindy?”

  “Hmm?”

  The tension in his shoulders was so severe, she wondered how he could hold himself stiff for so long and still breathe.

  “When I leave, I don’t want you clinging to me.”

  She blinked, not sure she understood what he was saying. He seemed to be implying she would make a scene on the dock, weeping and gnashing her teeth because the man she loved was heading out to sea. That he would even imagine such a thing was an insult. The other implication was even more offensive.

  “Are you suggesting that once you leave I should start dating other men?”

  A week seemed to pass before he answered. “Yes. I think that would be a good idea.”

  Lindy was slow to react to what he was suggesting. Her emotions went from surprise to mild irritation, then quickly broadened to out-and-out fury. She jerked her arm off his shoulder and leaped to her feet. “Well, thank you very much.”

  “For what?”

  If it hadn’t been so tragic, so painfully sad, Lindy might have laughed. She’d never felt as close to any man as she had to Rush these past two weeks. When she’d declared her love, she hadn’t been looking for white lace and promises. The words had been seared against her tender heart and she hadn’t been able to hold them inside a minute longer. She hadn’t asked anything of him, but she certainly hadn’t expected this intolerable pat on the hand, telling her she was too young, too immature or too stupid to know her own mind.

  “For God’s sake, think about it, will you?”

  “What?” she returned in like voice. “That I’m still a baby and certainly incapable of sound judgment? How about the fact that I’m looking to prove myself after Paul? What I feel for you is obviously some rebounding thing to soothe my injured ego. Right? Is that what you want me to think about, Rush? Unfortunately I can’t come up with a single reason I should, since you’ve already shoved those things in my face at every opportunity.”

  His jaw was clenched so hard that his temple went white. “You’re fresh out of college….”

  “And still tied to Mama’s apron strings. Is that what you mean to imply?”

  “No.”

  Oh, the gall of the man. Rather than continue arguing, Lindy returned to the kitchen. She was so furious that she clenched her hands into hard fists and exhaled several times to gain control of her simmering rage. She gritted her teeth as she went about fixing their meal. If Rush was so keen for her to start dating someone, then Lindy could see no reason why she should wait until the Mitchell left Puget Sound. A small sense of satisfaction lifted the corner of her mouth in a soft sneer as she thought about having men come to the apartment to pick her up and the pleasure she’d derive from introducing them to Rush. Oh, he’d really love that. She might even stay the night with a friend from work and let Rush stew, thinking she was with another man. Then she’d see exactly how eager he was to have her meet someone else.

  Lindy braced her hands against the counter and hung her head in abject defeat. Behaving that way was childish and immature and impossibly stupid. Sure, she’d make Rush suffer, but she would end up being the one with a broken heart and myriad regrets.

  Rush seemed to be telling her something more. Yes, he hungered for her physically. The circumstances in which they were living were rife with sexual tension. Each day it became more difficult to ignore the fire between them, and more than once they’d gotten close enough to the flames to singe their self-control.

  The realization hit Lindy then, the impact as strong as if Rush had slugged his fist into her stomach. In some ways it would have been easier if he had. Rush didn’t love her. He pitied her after what had happened with Paul. All his tenderness, all his concern, everything he’d done had been born of pity. She’d mistaken his touch, his soul-wrenching kisses for passion when, from the beginning, all he’d really felt was compassion for her.

  “Where’s my book?”

  Rush’s question came at her as if from outer space. She turned to discover he stood not more than five feet away, looking irritated and impatient. She hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.

  “My book?” he repeated. “The one that was in the living room last night. What did you do with it?”

  Still numb, she raised her hand and pointed toward his bedroom. “I set it on your dresser.”

  Since there was so little time in the morning, Lindy had gotten into the habit of straightening up the apartment before she went to bed. The night before Rush had been at a meeting, and she’d retired early, tired from a long day, before he’d gotten home.

  “I’d appreciate it if you left my things alone,” Rush said in a low growl. “Move whatever you want of yours, but kindly keep your hands off mine.”

  Answering him with anything more than a shake of her head would have been impossible. Lindy didn’t know what had gone wrong, but in the space of fifteen minutes her world had been badly shaken. First Rush had told her he wanted her to start seeing other men and then he’d jumped all over her for putting his book away. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

  The insight came to her then—it seemed to be the night for them—Rush wanted her out of the apartment. When she’d gotten the job with Boeing, it had been understood she’d need to wait for a couple of paychecks before she could afford to rent her own place. They hadn’t actually discussed it, and at the time Lindy had let the subject drop because she’d wanted to spend as much time as she could with Rush. He hadn’t asked her about it, and she’d assumed that he wanted her with him just as much. Once more, she’d been wrong.

  Quickly calculating her limited funds, she realized that with what remained of her savings and her first check, which was due on Friday, she could possibly afford a studio ap
artment. If she asked around at the office, there might even be someone there who was looking for a roommate.

  The muscles in her throat constricted as she fought down the regret. She’d been such a fool.

  * * *

  Rush noted that Lindy left the apartment as soon as she’d finished preparing their dinner, not bothering to eat anything herself. For that matter he didn’t have much of an appetite either, but he sat down at the table, propped his book open in front of him and pretended an interest in both the book and the dinner.

  It had been on the tip of his tongue to ask Lindy where she was going, but he’d swallowed the question, realizing how stupid it would sound after the way he’d laid into her earlier. He hadn’t meant to start a fight, hadn’t even been looking for one. It had just happened, and he was as shocked by his insensitive demands as Lindy had been. He hadn’t meant a thing he’d said. The hurt in her expressive dark eyes returned to haunt him now. When he’d asked her about the book, she’d stood looking at him in confusion, the violet smudges that appeared beneath her eyes a silent testimony to the trauma his words had inflicted.

  As for the suggestion she see other men, that was downright idiotic. Talk about inflicting self-torture! He wanted to see Lindy with another man about as much as he desired a bladder infection.

  The problem, Rush knew, was that he loved Lindy Kyle. She was stubborn, headstrong, proud…warm and vibrant. She might as well have branded his heart, because he belonged to her.

  Rush pushed his plate aside and wearily wiped a palm across his eyes. Hell, this was the last thing he’d planned would happen. He was thirty-two years old, for God’s sake. Mature enough to recognize when he was headed for trouble. He’d known what was going to happen with Lindy from the first night he’d seen her standing, all soft and feminine, in the hallway outside Steve’s bedroom. He’d known the morning she’d blasted the rock music loud enough to hurl him out of bed because she was hurt and angry. He’d known when she’d held his head between her hands and stared into his soul and whispered so sweetly that she loved him.

  Rush stood and walked out onto the lanai, hands buried in his pants pockets. The dark green waters of Puget Sound were visible and Rush snickered softly. So much for not seeking a bridge to tie him to the mainland. He was trapped on shore now and he dreaded leaving. He used to think of the navy as the only wife he’d ever need. But recently, when he crawled into bed at night, it was Lindy he longed to wrap his arms around. Lindy he longed to love. He wanted her to be a permanent part of his life. She was laughter and sunshine. She’d made him feel again, laugh again, love again. He couldn’t bear to think of what the future would be like without her. Two weeks. He’d only been with Lindy for two weeks. Before that she’d been a name, the sister of a good friend. He couldn’t ask her to share his life based on a two-week acquaintance. It was crazy. No, he’d be patient with her, force himself to wait. The six-month separation would do them both good. Time would test the strength of their love. Time would reveal the truth.