Beginning with You

by Lindsay McKenna

  Ward’s intercom buzzed. He depressed the switch. “Yes, June?”

  “Captain, your wife is on line two.”

  Ward frowned, thinking that June sounded odd. He picked up the phone. “Hi.”

  “Ward?”

  “What is it, Marcia? You sound upset.”

  “I just got a call from the sheriff’s department.”

  Ward tried to prepare himself. He muttered, “It’s Kenny, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She hesitated, then dove on. “They just picked him up at school for buying coke from an undercover agent.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rook was hard at work in her office at five o’clock. Most of the office personnel had left. Tiredness lapped at her. The case from the night before had drained her completely. She wished Noah was around so she could tell him about the rescue.

  “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  Rook’s head snapped up. Jim Barton stood before her. A gasp escaped her. An entire month had passed, and he’d made no attempt to see her. Rook’s eyes widened considerably as she saw him give her a slight but warm smile of welcome. His blue eyes grew amused.

  “Jim…”

  Barton leaned against the doorjamb, dressed casually in a pale pink shirt and gray slacks. He wanted to appear at ease, but inwardly, his gut was tied in aching knots. There were so many fine lines to tread with Rook. Jim wasn’t sure he could do it, but he had to try. He loved her. “You look tired. Did you have a case last night?” he guessed. Rook’s short hair was ruffled and feminine-looking, despite the fact she wore no makeup. The olive-green flight suit de-emphasized the fact she was a woman, but not in his eyes. When he saw her cheeks color, Jim responded to the unspoken invitation.

  Rook dropped the pencil on the report and shoved her chair away from the desk. That same old panic came back. “A nasty one.” Nervously, she asked, “How’s your dad?”

  He watched her stand. There was a feline grace to Rook. Jim wondered if she was even aware of the powerful sensuality that lurked just beneath the surface. “Dad’s doing fine. He’s chomping at the bit to get back to work again.”

  “Tired of being confined to his house? Bored?”

  “You got it.” Jim grew serious. “I’m sorry I had to drop in unannounced like this. I know you don’t like mixing business with pleasure here at the office, but I haven’t been able to get hold of you any other way.”

  Rook frowned, avoiding his searching gaze. “I always forget to turn my answering machine on when I leave the apartment.” That was a lie.

  “You’ve been busy.” His heart started beating faster. “Look, we need to talk, Rook. I’d like to take you to dinner tonight.”

  Chewing on her lower lip, Rook winced. Her treatment of Jim was worse than callus. He deserved better. Expelling a breath of air, Rook nodded. “Okay, dinner.”

  Relief swept through him. “Great.”

  Rook retrieved her garrison cap and purse, walking up to him. “You don’t want to take me like this. I smell like hell. I’ll have to go home and get a shower.”

  He wanted to lean those few inches and claim her compressed lips but squelched the idea. “How about if I pick you up at six-thirty?”

  The urge to run was almost overwhelming. “Fine,” Rook said in a strained tone.

  After Rook changed uniforms, Jim walked her out to the parking lot. She fought feelings of apprehension. A large part of her was ecstatic at seeing him once again. She’d missed his sensitivity and intelligence, his laughter and keen humor. Jim had made her lighten up when no one had ever been able to do that before. By coming over to the air station and confronting her he’d caught her off guard. She halted at her sports car, Jim at her shoulder.

  “Jim, where are we going to eat?”

  He leaned an arm on the Civic’s roof, looking down at her. He wanted her so damn bad—and more than just in bed. “Ma Maison—it’s right outside Port Angeles. Have you been there yet?”

  Doubtful, Rook shook her head. “Are you kidding? I’ve been living on McDonald’s hamburgers and Wendy’s chili the last couple of months. What’s a restaurant?”

  He reached out, gently caressing her flame-colored cheek. Her skin was soft and inviting. “It’s run by two San Francisco caterers who moved north to escape civilization. Pat and Dennis Perry are the owners, and they’re a nice couple. Plus, the food is good.”

  Her flesh tingled beneath his grazing touch. Rook lowered her lashes, suddenly thrown into a quandary. She sensed Jim’s hunger and saw it in his eyes. Taking a step back to escape, she murmured, “Well, I mean, is it a fancy place, where I have to dress up, or can I go casual?”

  Jim gave her an enigmatic smile. “You might want to dress up a bit.”

  She gave him a pained look.

  “I’ve never seen you in a dress, Rook.”

  “Poor baby.” She laughed a little nervously and unlocked the car, sliding into the seat. “Men,” she muttered. “I’ll see you at six-thirty.”

  Unsure whether the pale mint linen blazer and matching skirt were appropriate, Rook chafed to herself. The pure Pima cotton blouse with the silk, Venetian-lace yoke made her business suit a bit more feminine. She fussed with her hair, then placed her hands flat on the sink, staring at herself in the mirror.

  “Why are you acting like an eighteen-year-old? This isn’t a date. We have things to talk over.” She stared down at the comb in her hand. What did Jim want from her?

  She owned one set of earrings—her mother’s. They were simple gold clip-ons that were small and circular. “Lipstick. Where the hell did I put the lipstick?” She rummaged for a full minute through a drawer, trying to locate the only tube she owned. “There you are….”

  Unhappy with the overall effect of her efforts, Rook stared at the mirror. With a pang, she wished she looked better. Why, you idiot? Who are you trying to impress? Just be yourself.

  The doorbell rang, and the knot in Rook’s stomach grew proportionately. It rang again. Taking a deep breath, walking carefully in her three-inch heels, Rook answered the door.

  “Say…”

  “Don’t say it,” Rook warned Jim, frowning as she stepped aside to let him enter.

  Jim handed her a small bouquet of summer flowers. “Don’t say that you are attractive?” Jim leaned over, taking a glance at her. “Or that you’ve got a gorgeous set of legs?—”

  Heat fled up her neck and into her cheeks. Nervously, Rook took the flowers, walking to the kitchen to find a vase. “Jim, spare me the macho comments, okay?”

  Jim sauntered into the kitchen. How shy she really was, he mused. It made her that much more enticing to him. “Take it easy, Rook.”

  Rook tried to hide her nervousness. Placing the flowers in a vase, she fled back to the living room to pick up her clutch purse. Jim caught up with her, reaching out and catching her by the arm, bringing her to a stop. “Whoa,” he said. He placed his hands on Rook’s shoulders, inches separating them. “Slow down,” he coaxed huskily. “I’m taking you out to eat, that’s all.”

  She eyed him. “I’m not the main course, Jim.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Dessert?”

  With a moan, Rook broke free of his entrapment. “You’re incorrigible!”

  Laughing lightly, Jim walked toward the door to open it for her. “So I’ve been told by a certain pert young lady who’s a Coast Guard officer.”

  As she passed him on the way out, Rook muttered, “Yeah? Well, you’d better take it to heart.”

  “Threats! Threats!” Jim pretended to be properly frightened. Rook gave him a dirty look, but finally burst into laughter. Then she relaxed. That was the way Jim wanted her—laughter in her dove-gray eyes, that luscious mouth of hers curved upward in a smile, all the tension of her job erased from her features. Tonight was special, and he wanted Rook with her defenses down toward him.

  “You know, the last four months of my life have been the best and worse I’ve ever had,” Jim confided to Rook, easing into the rel
axed atmosphere between them. They had finished a very good dinner and were languishing over liqueur after dessert. Jim held Rook’s gaze. Throughout the evening, she had alternately been defensive and unguarded, allowing him to see familiar and endearing facets of herself. He swirled the contents of the crystal goblet. “The worst, because I caused an accident that could have killed you. Plus, my dad’s injury.” Setting the glass aside, Jim captured Rook’s hands. They were cool and damp between his. “And the best because I met you, and my dad’s recovering.”

  “Jim—please….” Rook tried to pull her fingers free, but didn’t succeed.

  “Stop running from me,” he told her softly.

  Rook sat there, eyes downcast on the white tablecloth. His hands were warm and dry. Hers were clammy. “I’m not running!” she whispered tautly between her thinned lips. “If this is going where I think it’s going, it’s no good, Jim.”

  “Where do you think this is going?”

  Rook could have died as she felt heat rising once again to her cheeks. Mercifully, Jim allowed her to reclaim her hands. “Look, I’m just not cut out for the bedroom scene.”

  “I’m not into one-night stands myself, Rook.”

  She lowered her lashes, her heart beating hard in her chest. “Well…I thought you wanted…that is, I mean—”

  “Rook, look at me.”

  She met Jim’s unwavering blue eyes.

  “I’m not saying things too well, myself. You mean a hell of a lot to me. When we first met, I thought you were the most brazen spitfire I’d ever met, and I liked you for it.”

  “We had a terrible fight.”

  Jim smiled slightly, his voice faltering. “Yeah. And when I brought those flowers over to you and you blushed—” he reached over, barely grazing her cheek “—like you are now, I realized you were more than just the tough broad you pretended to be.”

  “It’s not exactly easy working and living in a male-dominated environment,” she began defensively.

  “I realize that more and more every day, Rook. Being around you has taught me a lot.” Jim toyed absently with his glass, staring down at it a long time before he spoke again. His voice came out roughened with emotion when he did. “When you helped rescue my dad over by Thatcher Ridge, something snapped inside me. Too much was going on at the time for me to analyze it properly. And then, when you showed up at the hospital that night…”

  Jim took a deep breath, holding her wavering stare. Her eyes were like soft, gray diamonds, filled with compassion. “Dammit, I’m not saying this well at all.” He placed both hands on the table and said, “I know we got off track with each other the night we made love, but I’m not sorry we did. I want the chance to explore a relationship with you. I’m asking you to think about it.

  “Christ, I can’t go to sleep at night. All I do is toss and turn and think about you. You’re different—unique. Sometimes I feel like a moth flying directly into a flame.” Jim slid his hands forward, covering her tightly clenched ones on the table.

  “I’m thirty-two years old, Rook. I’ve been around, and I know the score—at least, I thought I did. You careened into my life and turned it upside down.” His hands tightened around hers. “Please, can you give me—give us—a chance?”

  His honesty shattered Rook’s defenses. “Oh, Jim, I’m not a safe bet.”

  “Who said I wanted a safe bet?”

  Rook begged him with her eyes to remain silent. “I can give you a hundred reasons why this won’t work—can’t work….”

  His mouth tightened, more authority in his voice. “Then, you’d better start giving those reasons right now, Rook.”

  “I’m in the Coast Guard.”

  “So?”

  “They move me from station to station every two to three years.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  “I put in hellishly long hours.”

  “So do I. We’ll see each other at night, or when you don’t have duty. I want to be your friend, too, Rook—your confidante. I want you to be able to lean on me like you did before. I want to lean on you when I need to. We’re a team, you and I. We’ve proven that between us already.”

  “I don’t know that,” Rook stated, pulling her hands away from his and tucking them in her lap beneath the tablecloth.

  Patience, Jim warned himself. She was getting ready to run. He could see it in every feature of her face. “You will if you give us a chance.”

  Rook gnawed on her lower lip, her heart beating so hard she wondered if she was going to have a heart attack. “You’re macho and I’m a feminist.”

  “So, we’ll both learn to bend to one another. That’s what a relationship’s all about—compromise. But both people have to want it and be willing to bend, Rook.”

  “I don’t know….” She began to rub her temple.

  “You won’t until you give us a try, Rook.”

  “You’re rich—filthy rich.”

  “And you come from a poor family. So what? You make decent money in the Coast Guard.”

  “You could’ve married a lot of women before you met me. Why didn’t you?” Rook challenged.

  “Because I knew most of them were after my money, or security, or both,” Jim said patiently. “You didn’t give a damn about my money. You cared what happened to me, as a person, after my dad got hurt.”

  Panic set in. Rook grabbed her clutch purse, rising from the table. Rushing past the smiling owners, Rook opened the door. The damned heels—she couldn’t run in them! Frustration curdled in her as she hurried as fast as she could into the parking lot. The night was windy and chilly with a slice of moon peeking from behind the turbulent clouds overhead.

  Hearing Jim’s heavier footsteps behind her, Rook halted and turned.

  Jim halted, breathing hard, his hands open, question in his eyes. “Rook, don’t run.”

  Her breath came in gulps as she stood tensely, as if waiting for a forthcoming attack. “Leave me alone,” Rook begged. “I’m not right for you, Jim.”

  The tears glittered like shards of diamonds in her eyes. Jim heard the anguish in her unsteady voice. He shook his head, slowly approaching her, his hand held out to her. “No, I won’t believe that. Too much has happened between us, Rook. There’s something there and we both know it.” He laid his hand on her slumped shoulder.

  Rook trembled as his hand settled on her. Jim was tall, powerful and so confident about himself and his future. Fighting back tears, she looked up at him, his face contoured in the shadows.

  “Talk to me, Rook,” he pleaded huskily. “I’ll listen—I promise. Just tell me what it is that’s making you run from me, and we’ll take the hurdle together. Please….”

  Choking back a sob, she rasped, “I’m afraid, all right?”

  Startled, Jim cocked his head, studying her. “Afraid? Of what?”

  She tore her gaze from him. “I told you before, I’m not a veteran at this game, Jim. I’m not a virgin, but I sure as hell don’t have the experience you have. All my life, I’ve had to fight for what I wanted. My mother and I moved from one town to another so often, I was never able to make any lasting friends of either sex. I worked summers to make money so we could survive. When I started flying helicopters, the boys didn’t want anything to do with me. By the time I got to college I had a purpose and a goal. For four years I busted my tail to graduate. I took courses during the day and worked until midnight, sometimes one in the morning, at a part-time job to earn the money to pay for my education.” Rook’s voice steadied. “In those four years, I had exactly two affairs.” She grimaced, avoiding the look in his eyes. “Real quick ones that I won’t bore you with, be cause they were one-night stands that I was stupid enough to walk into.” Bitterness tinged her tone. “So I took the consequences. Lesson learned.”

  Jim nodded, allowing his hand to slide off her shoulder. He felt her pain, her vulnerability. “And since then?”

  “Eighteen months learning how to be a damn good Coast Guard helic
opter pilot didn’t leave me any time to myself.” She risked a look at him, some of her anger and fear dissolving. “Eighteen months of pure hell, where you busted your ass on a daily basis and you weren’t sure whether the Navy instructor pilots were going to wash you out one day or the next. No, I didn’t have time for a relationship, as you call it.”

  “I understand.”

  Rook shook her head, wrapping her arms about herself. “No, you don’t. Ever since I can remember, men and I have been at odds with one another.” She gestured in the direction of the station. “God knows, I’m having to learn how to get along with them as never before. All my experiences with men, up until recently, have been disappointing or bad, Jim.”

  He stepped forward, gently cradling her face between his large hands. Her mouth and eyes broadcast her pain, her unsureness. “I can’t promise I won’t ever hurt you, Rook, because I’m human, but what I can promise is to always be honest with you. We can talk, explore and find out about each other in many ways. And, yes, sharing ourselves in bed can be a part of that, too. We don’t have to rush into anything. One of the many things I like about you is your honesty. You don’t pull any punches.”

  Tears blurred her vision, and Rook fought them. His hands were callused and roughened against her face, but they sent a protective, good feeling through her. “I’m not such a hot deal.”

  “I don’t want a hot deal. I want you.”

  Rook shut her eyes and laid her hands against his arms, suddenly dizzy with fear. “I’m so afraid, Jim.” Her voice wobbled.

  “So am I,” he whispered, leaning over, brushing her parted lips. “Let’s be frightened together.” And he gently drew Rook to him, kissing her as if she were fragile glass. This woman, who put her life on the line on almost a daily basis, who had nerves like a steel cable behind the stick of a helicopter, was hauntingly human through his heart’s eyes.

  Rook tried to pull away, tearing her mouth from his.