Debbie Macomber's Navy Box Set: Navy WifeNavy BluesNavy BratNavy WomanNavy BabyNavy Husband

by Debbie Macomber

  Her plan was to subtly phase herself out of his life. But the strategy had backfired on her. Each day she found herself hungering for word from him, convinced this separation was far more difficult than the one before.

  * * *

  Erin dreamed of Brand that night. He’d come to her when she was in bed, warm and cozy, missing him dreadfully. Slipping under the covers, he’d reached for her, his eyes wide with unspoken need. His kisses were hot and hungry as he buried his mouth in hers.

  In the beginning, Erin had tried to hold back, not wanting the kisses to deepen for fear of where they would lead. Gradually, without Brand ever saying a word, she felt herself opening to him. She was lost in the wonder of his arms, and he seemed to be equally absorbed in hers. Both seemed on the brink of being found, of discovering heaven.

  His body had moved over hers, his skin hot to the touch and as smooth as velvet. The clothes that had been a protective barrier between them seemed to melt away. Bare, heated skin had met bare, heated skin, and they’d both sighed at the mysterious joy found in such simple pleasure.

  His hands caressed her, his touch light and unbelievably gentle. His kisses robbed her of her sanity, and when he moved above her, she parted her thighs and moaned in welcome.

  “Do you like this?” he whispered close to her ear.

  “Oh…yes,” she assured him.

  His hands cupped her buttocks while his kiss raked her mouth. By the time he finished, Erin was panting and weak with longing. “Make love to me,” she pleaded. “Brand, please, don’t make me wait…not again.”

  In response, he lowered his sleek, muscular body to hers. Thrilled and excited, Erin opened to him, wanting him so badly she clawed at his back, needing him to hurry and give her what she craved.

  To her dismay, he didn’t enter her. She squirmed and closed her legs around the hot staff of his manhood, arching and buckling as he began to move, sliding between her thighs, the friction moistened by her excitement and need.

  “Brand,” she pleaded again, her voice hoarse as she clutched at him, breathing hard and fast. “Give me what I want.”

  “No…” His voice was that of a man in torment.

  “Yes.” She thought to outwit him, and she rotated her hips so that his thrust met the apex of her womanhood. If he were to continue, penetration couldn’t be avoided, and he would fill her the way she craved. Arching her neck, she lifted her hips, coaxing him to completion, wanting him so much she couldn’t think clearly.

  “Please,” she begged, tilting her hips higher and higher, but he stopped short. “I want to feel all of you…. Oh, Brand…”

  “No…no…” He sounded like a man pounding against the gates of heaven, lost for all eternity. “We can’t…It isn’t right, not now, not yet. Soon,” he promised. “Soon.”

  “We can…we must.”

  Her cries and pleas seemed to have no effect on him, and try as she might with her body, pushing her hips forward, inviting him, even demanding that he give her what she sought, did no good.

  He was full and hard, and he teased her until a violent release delivered her physically from the prison of unfulfilled desire. She lay panting, her eyes closed, physically relieved but emotionally starving.

  It was then that Erin had woken.

  For a long while, she stared up at the ceiling, her head spinning, her heart pounding. She’d never been one to put a lot of stock in dreams, but this one had been so vivid, so real, that she couldn’t help being affected.

  This was the way it would be with Brand. It wasn’t that he’d cruelly refuse to make love to her, but he’d never be able to satisfy the deep inner longings of her soul.

  She required more than he could ever supply.

  And they both knew it.

  * * *

  Each day that followed, Erin reassured herself nothing good would be accomplished by loving Brand. She’d made a decent life for herself, and she wasn’t going to leave the only security she’d ever found because a few hormones refused to let her forget she was a woman.

  She repeated the same tired arguments to herself in the mirror every morning and then went about her day. But when the nights arrived, her dreams were filled with loving Brand. Not all her dreams were wild sexual romps. When they did come, she found herself left frustrated and miserable. More often, her nights would be full of memories of him and the scant time they had spent together. Brand and she would be walking, hand in hand, along the beach together, talking, laughing, appreciating the love they’d discovered in each other. Then Brand would take her in his arms and kiss her until her mouth was moist and swollen. His eyes would delve into hers while his hands tenderly brushed the red curls from the side of her face.

  They’d kiss, and their lips would cling, then kiss again, slowly, lazily, savoring each other.

  Each morning, when Erin woke, it was the ending.

  Each night, when she climbed beneath the sheets, was the beginning.

  * * *

  Stunned, Brand sat at his desk, reading over the same words two and three times. He felt numb. He’d been assigned duty aboard the command ship USS Blue Ridge. The Blue Ridge was the flagship of the Seventh Fleet and was being deployed in the western Pacific. Tour of duty—six months.

  This couldn’t have come at a worse time for him. Without a doubt, he knew he was going to lose Erin.

  There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

  A feeling of helplessness and frustration engulfed him like a tidal wave.

  He’d left Seattle with matters unsettled, but that couldn’t be avoided. He’d continued to write her every day since, and all he’d gotten in return were chatty letters that didn’t say a damn thing about what she was feeling or thinking. He might as well be corresponding with a troop of Girl Scouts. Reading Erin’s letters was like reading the newspaper. Just the facts, listed as unemotionally as possible. She even signed off with “Best Wishes.” Well, Brand had a few wishes of his own, but Erin didn’t seem to be interested in fulfilling any of those.

  “Six months,” he said aloud. It might as well be an eternity. Erin would refuse to wait for him; she’d made that clear from the first. She’d start dating other men, and the thought produced an ache that cut through his heart and his pride.

  Although Brand had made light of it when she’d brought up this Neal character, he’d been jealous as hell. When he’d learned Neal was a figment of her imagination, the relief he’d felt was overwhelming.

  Erin was a rare jewel, undiscovered and unappreciated by those around her. At first glance, few would have declared her beautiful. Her hair was a little too red, her nose a bit too sharp, her mouth a tad too full, for her beauty to be considered classic. But upon closer examination, she was a precious pearl, worth selling everything he owned to possess.

  Brand understood from the things she’d told him how seldom she dated. She was endearingly shy. Warm, gracious, caring.

  And Brand loved her.

  He loved her so much he hadn’t been able to function properly since he’d returned from his evaluation assignment at Sand Point.

  He had to tell her about being assigned sea duty, of course, and he tried doing so in a letter several times. After attempting to phrase it a number of ways, jokingly, seriously, thoughtfully and playfully, Brand resigned himself to contacting her by phone.

  He delayed it, probably longer than he should have.

  He announced it flat out, without preamble.

  And waited.

  “Well,” he said, speaking into the receiver. “Say something.”

  “Bon voyage.”

  “Come on, Erin, I’m serious.”

  “So am I.”

  She had this flippant way about her when she was upset and trying not to show it. Brand had anticipated it and allowed for her sarcasm, but she was precariously close to angering him.

  “You want me to act surprised?” Erin questioned. “I can’t find it in me. We both knew sooner or later that you’d get your shipping orde
rs. You are in the navy. You should expect sea duty.”

  “I want you to wait for me.” There, he’d said it. He hadn’t softened it with romantic words or sent the message attached to a dozen red roses. Just the plain truth. These were going to be the longest months of his life, simply because he’d never left a woman he loved behind until now. He didn’t like the feeling. Not one damn bit.

  Erin didn’t respond.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked her, raising his voice. “I want you to wait for me.”

  “No.” She said it so matter-of-factly, as if the answer took little, if any, thought or consideration.

  That pricked Brand’s pride, but he should have been used to it by now with Erin. Offhand he could have named two or three women who would have broken into tears when they learned he’d been assigned sea duty. In a few cases, the women had promised undying faithfulness and loyalty. They’d stood on the pier weeping as he’d pulled out of port, and they’d been there happy and excited upon his return. Brand hadn’t expected the same reaction from Erin—in fact, hysterical women were a turnoff as far as he was concerned—but he needed something more than what Erin was offering him.

  “So in other words you plan to date someone else?” he demanded.

  “Yes.”

  “Who?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “The hell it isn’t.” His voice was raised and angry. “I’m in love with you, Erin MacNamera, and—”

  “I didn’t ask you to love me. I’m not even sure I want you to love me. Go ahead, go off and play navy for the next six months, but I’m telling you right now, Brand Davis, I won’t sit home twiddling my thumbs waiting for you.”

  * * *

  When Erin replaced the telephone receiver, there were tears glistening in her eyes. She hated being weak, hated the emotion that clogged her throat and knotted her fists at her side.

  So Brand would be spending the next six months sailing between Hong Kong, the Philippines and several other exotic ports. Great. She was pleased for him. Happy, even.

  It was the end for them. It was over. Done. Finished.

  At first, when she’d answered the phone, the excitement she felt hearing Brand’s voice had taken the sting from his words. He must have known how she would react to his news and been worried about telling her, because he’d barely answered her greeting before launching into the dreary details of this six-month assignment. To be fair, he hadn’t sounded any too pleased about going out to sea himself, but that didn’t change anything.

  He’d leave without a qualm and without question. Why? Because the navy owned him the way it did her father and everyone else she’d grown up with, and she hated it.

  But the United States Navy would never own her again. Never!

  Brand had paused after telling her—waiting, it seemed, for some response from her. Her reaction had been immediate, but she’d shared damn little of it with Brand. When reality had begun to sink in, a deep sense of anger, loss, resentment and fear had crowded in around her like teenagers against the stage at a rock concert.

  It was the same indescribable sensation that had come over her every time her father had announced he’d received a new assignment and they’d be moving.

  * * *

  Those identical emotions stormed at her once again. She felt like a casualty of a major disaster. Homeless. Lost emotionally and physically. Wandering around in the blue haze of insecurities that came when everything familiar, everything comfortable, had been pulled out from under her feet.

  Erin had thought to escape that feeling for the rest of her life. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow Brand to drag her back into that crazy lifestyle.

  “I’m going to miss loving you,” she spoke into the stillness of the room.

  She would miss Brand. As silly as it seemed, she’d miss the loneliness of waiting for his calls. The joy of his coming and the pain of his leaving. All those were part of the man she had to learn to stop loving.

  * * *

  The following morning, Erin called in sick. Unfortunately, it was Aimee who answered the phone.

  “You don’t sound sick,” her friend announced first thing. “In fact, you sound as if you’ve sat up all night crying. I can hear it in your voice.”

  “I…Just write me down as sick, would you? Tell Eve I’ve got the flu, or make up some other excuse.” She finished by hiccuping on a sob.

  “Aha! So I was right, you have been crying. What’s wrong, sweetie?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You think you’re fooling me? Think again, girl!”

  “Come on, Aimee,” Erin mumbled. “Be nice. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “It must be Brand. What did he do that was so terrible this time? Send you roses? Tell you you’re beautiful?”

  “He’s going out to sea for six months,” she blurted out, as though someone should arrest him for even considering leaving her feeling the way she did. “He hasn’t had sea duty in two years. He met me, and wham—the navy puts the kiss of death on anything developing between us. I…couldn’t be more pleased…. It couldn’t have come at a better time.”

  “You don’t mean a word of that. Listen, I’ve got a light schedule this morning. How about if I drop in and we have one of our heart-to-heart talks. It sounds like you could use one.”

  “All right,” Erin agreed, “only…hurry, would you?”

  Aimee arrived around ten. Erin was dressed in her housecoat and her fuzzy pink slippers with the open toes. Her mother had sent her the shoes the Christmas before last, and just then Erin needed something from home.

  She carried the tissue box with her to the door, blew her nose and then carelessly tossed the used Kleenex on the carpet.

  Aimee walked into the house and followed the trail of discarded tissues into the kitchen. “Good grief, it looks like you held a wake in here.”

  “The funny part is,” Erin said, sobbing and laughing both at the same time, “I don’t even know why I’m crying. So Brand’s going off to sea. Big deal. It isn’t like I didn’t anticipate he would. He’s navy.”

  “You’re in love with him is why.” Standing on tiptoe, Aimee reached inside Erin’s tallest cupboard and brought down a teapot. “Sit down,” she said, pointing toward the table. “I’ll brew us some tea.”

  “There’s coffee made.”

  “You need tea.”

  Erin wasn’t sure she understood, but she wasn’t in any mood to question her friend’s illogical wisdom. If Aimee wanted to brew her a strong cup of tea, then far be it from her to argue.

  “I’ve learned something important,” Erin announced once Aimee had joined her.

  “Oh?” Her co-worker reached across the table for the sugar bowl and added a liberal amount to Erin’s cup. “Tell me.”

  “I’ve decided falling in love is the most wonderful, most…creative, most incredible feeling in the world.”

  “Yes,” Aimee agreed with some reluctance. “It can be.”

  “But at the same time it’s the most destructive, painful, distressing emotion I’ve ever experienced.”

  “Welcome to the real world. If it were only the first part, we’d all make a point of falling in love regularly. Unfortunately, it involves a whole lot more.”

  “I always thought it was roses and sunshine and sharing a glass of expensive wine while sitting in front of a brick fireplace. I had no idea it was so…so painful.”

  “It can be.” Aimee held the delicate china cup with both hands. “Trust me, I know exactly what you’re going through.”

  “You do?”

  Her friend nodded. “Steve moved out of the house last weekend. We’ve decided to contact our respective lawyers. It’s going to be a challenge to see which one of us can file for the divorce first.”

  Erin couldn’t hold back her gasp of surprise. “You didn’t say anything earlier in the week.”

  “What’s there to say? It isn’t something I want to announce to the office, not that you�
�d spread the word. The way I figure it, everyone’s going to find out sooner or later anyway, and personally, I prefer later.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  Aimee gave an inelegant shrug. “All right, I guess. It isn’t like this mess happened overnight. Steve and I haven’t been getting along for the last couple of years. Frankly, it’s something of a relief that he’s gone.”

  Erin could understand what her friend was saying. The break with Brand had been inevitable. She’d delayed it too long as it was, hoping they’d come up with a solution, a means of compromise, anything that would make what they shared work.

  “What we need is a plan of action,” Aimee announced with characteristic enthusiasm. “Something that’s going to get us both through this with our minds intact.”

  “Shopping?” Erin suggested.

  “You’re joking? I can’t afford panty hose until payday, and on the advice of my attorney I dare not use the credit cards.”

  “What, then?” Everything Erin could think of involved money.

  Gnawing at the corner of her mouth, Aimee mulled over their dilemma. “I think we should start dating again.”

  “Dating?” Erin sounded doubtful. “But you’re still married, and I’m not interested right now…Maybe later.”

  “You’re right. Dating is a bit drastic. It sounds simple enough, but where the hell would we find men? The bowling alley?”

  “But I don’t think we should rule out casual relationships,” Erin qualified. “Nothing serious, of course.”

  “Next month, then. We’ll give ourselves a few weeks to mentally prepare for reentering the dating scene. We’ll diet and change our hair and get beautiful all over again and wow ’em.”

  In a month Erin might consider the idea, but for now it left her cold. “What about now? How are we going to get through…today?”

  “Well…” Aimee paused. “I think we’re both going to have to learn to survive,” she said, and her small voice quavered.