Navy Christmas (Whidbey Island)

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Navy Christmas (Whidbey Island) Page 20

by Geri Krotow


  “I know.” She swallowed. “I’ll never be able to repay you for all your help last night and today.”

  He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Stop. I didn’t do anything but show up. You would’ve made your way back to the house.” He raised her chin so that she had to look at him. His eyes reflected sincerity, warmth and something more. Something she didn’t want to face, not now, not with Jonas.

  “You kept Pepé safe, and let’s face it, this is normally one of the safest places on the planet. It’s remote enough that even Whidbey locals don’t know about it. It’s a fluke that the drug addict showed up here.”

  “I realize that, in my head. The odds of losing someone in the war were supposed to be on my side, too, but, well, look where that got me.”

  “You’ve had some rough knocks. But this will pass, Serena.”

  Who was this Jonas standing in front of her? Where was her nemesis, the man who wanted her house?

  Did he mean all of this would pass when she agreed to sell the house to him?

  “It will. Hey, I’m a lawyer, and family law has its risks, too. I’ve been threatened by my clients’ ex-husbands when I’ve had to get restraining orders against them, and I’ve had more than my share of unhappy survivors who didn’t get what they expected from a family estate.”

  “Like me?”

  “I didn’t mean it that way, Jonas. Sure, you’re not happy, but I’m not afraid you’re going to do anything nefarious to get the house back. Except...you did purchase the surrounding land.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Feeling guilty?”

  “Not one bit.”

  Her familiar annoyance at his arrogance returned and none too soon. Jonas’s effect on her was intense, and it would be easy to convince herself that she’d been wrong about him, about their chances of starting a relationship.

  “What was the airplane Pepé mentioned?”

  She glanced at the small worktable where she’d left the bin in which they’d found the stocking and ornament.

  “We came across a hand-carved plane that I think is a Flying Tiger from World War II. It’s next to my laptop in the dining room. I’ll show it to you when we go back inside.”

  Jonas stood while he thought aloud. “It could very well be a P-40 Warhawk. I know Dottie’s father was a pilot in the war, but she said he didn’t talk much about it once he came home. She was five or six when he left for flight training. He didn’t come back until she was nine or ten.”

  “Pepé’s age. When her father went to war, I mean.”

  “Yes.”

  Did he think she’d used Pepé as another means to manipulate Dottie? Didn’t he see that it was all a coincidence? Dottie hadn’t told her anything about her father fighting in World War II. She’d had no control over when her mother was going to tell her about her biological father.

  “Did you ever meet Dottie’s dad?”

  “No, he’d passed on before Dottie met my dad.”

  “Was she a lot older than your father?”

  Jonas smiled. “By twelve years.”

  “Really!”

  “Yeah, but you know, she and my dad were perfect for each other. She was a beauty, a real product of the summer of love, the whole hippie thing. She was in her forties when she and Dad met. I never looked at her as older. She was a stunning woman in her day—just look at some of the photos in Paul’s house. I think my dad needed someone like her—a real live wire. Dad was quieter—an engineer. He’d come here to work on weapons systems at the base and to train the aircrew. He’d lost my mother to a drunk driver right after I was born. He deserved a break. Dottie was it.”

  Compassion surged in her chest for the little boy Jonas had been when he met Dottie. Had his eyes widened at her full-throttle laugh like Pepé’s had?

  “I only knew her as an older woman,” Serena told him, “but she looked at least twenty years younger than she was, and acted forty years younger.” She paused, not sure if Jonas wanted to hear what she had to say. When he stayed silent, his expression relaxed, she continued.

  “We communicated by email at first. My mother gave me Todd’s name and told me he was from Washington State, from some island. Between the internet and my legal connections, it didn’t take long to track him down. He was deceased by then, but I found out he had a sister. Dottie.”

  She shoved her hands into her hoodie’s pocket.

  “I had no idea what to expect. But as soon as I talked to her on the phone, I knew we had a connection, something more than blood. I brought Pepé out with me to meet her, before we went to BTS. Our weekend trip ended up being our house-hunting trip. It felt right. Pepé and I had stayed in the same place for a year after Phil died and it was time to move on.”

  “Your family couldn’t have been too pleased about you leaving your home state.”

  “My siblings understood, I think. I’m the oldest, the oddball, as they’re all my half siblings. My mother married their father, Red, when I was very young.”

  “Yet you needed to find out about a man who’d been nothing more than a sperm donor.”

  “I really hate that expression. From what Dottie told me he suffered horribly because of his addiction and never felt he deserved a family.”

  “My uncle was a good guy, despite his heavy drinking. I can’t believe he knew about you—it wasn’t in him to ignore family.”

  “I don’t know what to think anymore.” She looked at the floor, the shelves, anywhere but at Jonas. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m grateful that I found Dottie and was able to give Pepé a sense of his family history.”

  “Like I said, Uncle Todd was a great uncle when he was sober. We were all he had, really. He put in his time at his job on base, and went home to hole up with a bottle all weekend.”

  “You remember him like that?”

  “Not specifically. I remember him as the uncle who brought us the biggest chocolate Easter bunnies, who gave us the most money in our birthday cards.”

  “What about Christmas?”

  “He used to really piss Dottie off!” Jonas grinned. “He’d bring us whatever the latest and greatest toy was—you know, the one that was advertised on television and cost too much. Dottie would yell at him and tell him to save his money.”

  “What did he do when she yelled at him?”

  “He’d laugh and tell her he wasn’t going to live long enough to spend it all.”

  “He was right.”

  Jonas sobered. “Yeah, he was right. He did himself in with booze and cigarettes, the classic combo.”

  He must have noticed her silence. “Are you feeling okay, Serena? You’ve been on your feet for a while now and it’s a good idea to take it easy for a couple of days.”

  “I’ll go crazy if I sit anymore. Besides, it’s time to get dinner started.”

  “Nope. Not happening. I’m making dinner for you.”

  “You need to go home, Jonas.”

  “I don’t need to go anywhere. The roads are a mess and the base is closed. It’s emergencies-only at the base hospital, and I’m not on call. Doc Franklin knows I’m here.”

  “Did you tell him what happened?”

  “Not all the details, no. You know the assault and arrest will make it to the police blotter, right?”

  “Yes. I can’t tell you how many of these reports I’ve read over the years, or how many cases like this I’ve handled. Mostly, I made sure the victims’ medical bills were paid if they didn’t have insurance.”

  “But now it’s your life. You’ve been the victim of a crime.”

  She nodded. “I know it could be a lot worse, and it’s going to pass, this feeling of helplessness. It’s strange, that’s all. A home is where you’re supposed to feel the safest.”

  “Come here.”
r />   She didn’t fight him. Strong arms and a warm, solid chest under her cheek were the best medicine Jonas had offered all day.

  “It’s okay, Serena. You can let go. It’s not always your job to be the tough girl.”

  She allowed him to massage her shoulders, her back. His hands on her waist and shoulders were the definition of solace. He placed a firm kiss on her forehead, the side opposite her bruise.

  “You’re an impressive woman, Serena.”

  “You’re too nice.”

  “No, only a casual observer.”

  Their embrace was a heck of a lot more than casual. It should have scared her, this overwhelming need for him. Instead, she wanted more.

  Jonas woke her needs and not in a soft, gentle way. He brought them roaring to life with his constant, steady presence, which compelled her to notice him, notice how they were when they were together.

  But they hadn’t been together—not completely.

  Was it only a matter of time?

  Shivers ran down her neck, her spine.

  “Cold?”

  “No.”

  His body stiffened and his chest stilled as she heard him take a quick inhalation. He got her meaning, another indication of the invisible yet tangible connection they shared.

  “Serena, I want to kiss you but I don’t want to hurt your lips.”

  “Mmm.” She was willing to stay in his arms all day.

  His kisses started on her face. Gentle touches of his lips to her skin, his tongue darting out to taste her when he got to her earlobe, her throat, skin between her neck and her shoulder.

  Her hands moved up under his shirt and her fingers seemed to burn from the heat that radiated off his chest. The man was built, his muscles sinewy after his deployments.

  “You work out a lot.”

  “Not really. It’s the quality, not the quantity, you know.” His hands swept up from her waist to her breasts, softly kneading them through her shirt. Her nipples strained against her bra and she leaned her forehead on his shoulder.

  “Jonas...”

  “I know. Pepé, the dog, dinner. It can wait, can’t it? We can smooch here for a bit, can’t we?”

  “Smooch? Is that what this is?”

  “Mmm...” He nuzzled her neck as his hands drifted to her bottom and pressed her into his hips. His arousal was obvious and insistent and Serena bit her lip, ignoring the sharp pain from her bruises.

  “Ow!”

  Jonas pulled his head back. “What? Does this hurt?” He maintained eye contact as he pressed her into him again, making her close her eyes and groan.

  “No.”

  “I want you, Serena.”

  “I know. But not now, not here. Pepé...”

  Jonas pulled away again, keeping his hands on her shoulders. She was grateful; he’d made her knees go weak, the sexy man.

  “Not now, but soon, Serena. We owe it to ourselves to explore this attraction.”

  “When I’m the owner of the house you think is yours?”

  He dropped his hands to his sides and the flicker of desire in his eyes snuffed out as quickly as if she’d slapped him.

  Verbally, she had slapped him.

  “I’ve learned that everything in life is negotiable.”

  * * *

  “I’M GOING TO take the job at Paul Scott’s firm.” Serena spoke breathlessly, carefully picking her way up the cliff-side path she was hiking.

  “Wonderful! You won’t regret it. It’s time for you to take your career back.” Emily’s words weren’t as punctuated by intermittent breaths as Serena’s. With no family, Emily had more time to exercise and was in the kind of shape normally seen in college athletes.

  “Yes, it is.” They’d climbed up the treacherous rock wall and were rewarded with one of the best views on Whidbey Island. The sun shone on the familiar hump of Camano Island in the distance, and glistened off the white peak of Mount Baker in the Cascade Mountain Range, about a two-hour drive from where they stood.

  “This is a big part of what’s kept me here.” Serena let the wind hit her cheeks while pulling her hat lower, over her ears. She and Emily didn’t have the protection of the cliff anymore, and the ambient temperature dropped even with the bright sun.

  “I’ve tried to contemplate moving several times.” Emily laughed. “It’s been so damn lonely since I lost Peter, and my odds of finding someone else would be better in so many other, less remote, places. But part of me is married to Whidbey, I suppose.”

  “You’ve never told me all about it, Em.”

  Emily’s hazel eyes reflected golden rays as she looked off at their vista.

  “What’s there to say? I had three wonderful years with Peter, one of them married. We thought we had all the time in the world. Everything was going to happen for us, eventually. The house, the kids, the settling down.”

  “You did settle here.” Emily had been a Navy nurse and her husband was a naval flight officer. They’d hoped to move all over the globe together. Until Peter got sick and died within eight months, a terrible loss for anyone.

  More so, Serena thought, for a medical professional like Emily.

  Did Jonas suffer from having lost anyone close to him? Did he grieve for lost patients? She was certain he must, but it wasn’t anything he’d shared with her yet.

  “Yes, I stayed on. I think Peter and I would have, too. The only thing that would send me back east is my parents, but they’re still healthy and now they’re in a senior community that offers step-up care. I can go there for months at a time if I’m ever needed.”

  Emily faced Serena. “So far I haven’t been needed. I’m happy here, too. I enjoy my work at the base clinic. And now I’m going to be an author!”

  “Do you wish you’d had kids?” She’d seen how Emily looked at Pepé as if she could devour him.

  “Sure. I wish Peter and I had decided to have kids sooner.” Emily took a swig from her water bottle. “We could’ve frozen his sperm, but he was already so sick, and each day we delayed chemo would’ve shortened his time here. As it was, we’re lucky we had as long as we did to say goodbye.”

  “I don’t think eight months is a long time.”

  Emily shook her head. “When you see the patients I have, who never had even a day to say goodbye, you realize it’s a blessing to have that time. My only regret is the pain Peter was in toward the very end.”

  Serena’s gut was in a knot. Dottie hadn’t had any time to say goodbye, either.

  “It’s such a cliché, one we hear every day—‘life is short.’ But it’s true, Serena. Grab your happiness where you can. You said you’re going to take the job? When will you start?”

  “I start right after Christmas. I wanted to wait until Pepé’s begun the second part of the school year, for a smooth transition.”

  “Are your hours flexible?”

  “According to Paul, yes. I can work as much or as little as I like.”

  “We both know what that means. You’ll be doing sixty-hour weeks before you blink.”

  Serena laughed ruefully. “The old me would, for sure, when I had Phil at home from deployment, or my own family right there, for support. Not now. I’ve been through too much to make that mistake. Pepé needs me, and I need him. It’s important for both of us to maintain our routine.”

  “Yes, it is.” They stood quietly for a few minutes, absorbing the beauty.

  “What about Jonas?”

  “What about him?”

  “The fact that you haven’t brought him up makes me think there’s more going on here than a man who wants your house. Is he still staying with you?”

  “No, I convinced him to go home after a couple of nights. The power came back on, and I promised to text him every night before I go to sleep.”
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  “That’s cozy. When are you going to admit there is more going on?”

  “There might be. There could be. But it’s a nonstarter. He’s not looking for anything permanent and since I’m going to be working for his brother, and Pepé’s made connections with his adopted cousins, I can’t get involved. It’s not worth the potential heartache later for Pepé.”

  “For Pepé?”

  Serena looked at her friend. “For me, too. I know I need to date, or at least think about it. But bringing a man into the mix...I’m not ready for it yet. Not with Pepé.”

  “How does he kiss?”

  Serena blushed. “Adequately.”

  Emily giggled and nudged her arm. “I knew you’d made out with him.”

  “What did I do that gave it away?”

  “You haven’t done anything. It’s Jonas. When I see him at work he has the look of a man completely lost in his thoughts. Men don’t do that for passing flings, Serena.”

  “It hasn’t gone that far.” Not yet.

  “Do you ever see him alone, without Pepé there?”

  “No. And there’s no need to. It’ll only lead to trouble.” Serena turned and started to walk on the long, slowly descending path that would take them back to where they’d parked their cars.

  “What about you, Emily? How’s your love life?”

  “Touché. It’s nonexistent at the moment, but I can always be hopeful.”

  “No prospects at the hospital?”

  “Are you kidding me? Most of the men there are still boys or they’re married. I’ve got no interest in a Navy man since I don’t want to move.”

  “You’d move for the right relationship,” Serena said confidently.

  Emily blew one of her corkscrew curls out of her face. They were halfway down the path, and the woods offered protection from the wind. Serena enjoyed the crunch of the leaves under her hiking boots, the snap of twigs as they traversed an overlooked path.

  “Maybe.”

  The scent of burning wood—no, make that marijuana—hit her nostrils before Serena identified a group of three men in the depths of the woods.

  “Em, look.” She spoke quietly.

 

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