by Karen Rock
Her entire body hummed and a fuzzy sensation filled her head, making it hard to focus. Mark slipped his hand from her chin to cradle her head. His fingers tunneled through her hair, making the back of her neck tingle with anticipation as the pad of his thumb whispered against her cheek. His lips hovered right next to hers and his warm breath heated her face.
Blood pounded so wildly in her veins, she wondered if he could sense the vibration. The hum of sexual energy he always aroused in her returned and lodged squarely between her thighs.
He slowly bent down and his mouth brushed hers, gentle, so achingly tender that it made her squirm and arch against him. She kissed him back, running her hands through his wet hair, her head singing with the thought that he’d sought her out after all.
“Hello,” she said a moment later when he’d pulled back. His hands smoothed up and down her sides and she shuddered with pleasure at his touch. “Busy day?”
“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured against her temple, and then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he skimmed light, shivery kisses along her cheek and jaw.
“Mark.” Her voice dipped in warning. Despite the relative emptiness of the beach, someone they knew could pass by.
His crooked smile made her heart tumble. “Right. Decorum at all times.” He feigned such an unconvincing innocent look that it made her giggle.
“I looked for you when I woke up.”
Mark’s expression sobered and he slid a hand up her slick back. “I should have woken you.”
“You wanted to let me rest.”
He shook his head. When a salted gust tossed his hair in his face, he shoved it back. “I needed time to think.” His eyes delved into hers, then he added, “About us.”
Words guaranteed to place a clammy hand around her heart. “And?” A small motorboat whined to life and the two-man vessel appeared beyond the cliffs to their right. She watched the departing fisherman, gathered her nerves and forged on. “What do you think?”
His eyes brightened, the effect more vivid than the now sinking sun that colored the sky pink and gold. “Will you go out with me tonight?”
Her blood rioted at his question and the slippery sleek feel of his muscular body against hers. “What time? I return this in a half hour.”
He cupped her face. “I’ll pick you up at your room.”
She nodded, losing herself in his sincere gaze. Leaning close, she whispered, “Don’t be late,” against his mouth, tasting the salt on it. His final kiss left her lips tingling and her body warm long after he dove into the water and disappeared.
* * *
AN HOUR AND a half later, her reflection gazed back at her. She hardly recognized the sparkle-eyed, flushed woman. Her blond hair had dried into long, humidity-fueled waves that tumbled over her mostly bare shoulders. The pink floral material of the sundress she’d purchased in the resort’s gift shop dipped low over her breasts. She considered shortening the spaghetti straps and then let it go. She wanted to look sexy for Mark.
At a quick rap on the door, she shoved her feet into her wedge sandals, grabbed her bag and a cardigan, and hurried to open it.
Mark’s instant smile set off a chain reaction of excitement followed by something more dangerous. A craving that went deeper than physical satisfaction. A longing to have him for more than a night.
Her feelings were running deep. She needed to be careful, but it was hard to hold back.
The spicy musk of his cologne and the clean soapy scent of his skin made her toes curl. He smelled so good. It was tempting to drag him inside and forget about this date...
“Ready?” he asked, peering at the bed behind her, his eyes so full of longing, she guessed he was thinking the same thing.
She shouldered her purse. Talk first. Hot monkey sex later, she promised herself with a cheeky grin. “Ready,” she said, locking the door to her room, and then followed him down the veranda steps. “Where are we going?”
Mark held open the rear door of a small van and followed her inside. “Iggy’s. They’re having a party.”
“All set?” called the driver, a man Cassie had seen around the resort property.
“Set, William. Thanks,” Mark responded.
Fifteen minutes later, they bumped to a stop at a gray weathered structure. A sign with a faded cartoon iguana swung from chains and colored lights twinkled along a sloping eave in the growing dusk. An infectious beat poured from its open door, out onto the porch where islanders leaned on the railing or rocked in brightly painted chairs. Rob and Larry waved but otherwise didn’t stop chatting up a couple of gals.
“I’m invited, too,” William said after he cut the engine. “When you’re ready to leave just let me know.”
“Thanks.” Taking her hand, Mark led her up the stairs and into a low-ceilinged room with exposed beams and rough floors. A bar ran along one wall and a headphone-wearing DJ nodded along to an upbeat tune that grabbed Cassie’s hips and made them sway. A small crowd hung out by the bar, but most of the jumbled conversations seemed to be coming through the two open doorways that flanked it.
“Let’s go outside.” They stepped into the balmy evening where a dirt-trampled dance floor, filled with grooving islanders, dominated the cleared space. Small tables lined the square and a woman stood and waved excitedly when she caught sight of Mark.
And in that instant, they became a part of the Jameson clan. Cassie lost count of the number of hugs and handshakes she exchanged with grateful relatives who praised her and Mark for all that they’d done to save Vincent.
Hearing her name connected to the words courageous, brave and lifesaver filled her with sharp, sweet pleasure. There, amongst the thankful crowd, Jeff’s words came back to her. Live a little, he’d said. Somehow she’d always thought he meant to have fun, get out more. Now she interpreted his words differently: make a difference. Or maybe that was just her translation. Either way, she couldn’t go back to her old life. It’d shrunk two sizes too small for her.
When the old Culture Club tune “I’ll Tumble 4 Ya” blared, the crowd shrieked and, to Cassie’s amazement, they formed a conga line, Dylan and Larry at the lead, which left her and Mark alone at last.
They stared at each other. And suddenly, unexpectedly, they both started to laugh. “Come on, Cassie!” He caught her hand and pulled her after him, jogging to join the swaying line as it sashayed past them.
They cha-cha-cha-ed around the bay-tree-lined clearing where yellow cuckoos perched, scanning the ground for dropped tidbits. The birds squawked and flapped overhead, occasionally making Cassie duck as she held on to Mark’s hand and danced.
With the sky now awash with stars, someone had lit candles on the tables and torches at each corner of the property, casting an ambient glow. The song switched up and the pulsing rhythm separated the line into a gyrating mass, Mark and Cassie at its center.
They danced until she stopped feeling self-conscious and sweat came through their clothes and their hair stuck to their heads, and her sides hurt so much she wondered if she’d even be able to work a full shift tomorrow. They danced as if they had nothing else to do but dance.
And after so many serious, tension-filled days, it felt good.
She’d forgotten the joy of just existing, of losing herself in music, in a crowd of people, the sensations that came with becoming one communal, organic mass, alive only to the pulsing beat. For a few electric, thumping minutes, she let go of everything, her problems floating away like helium balloons—her undecided future, her anxious parents, her frightening feelings for Mark...
She became alive, moving, blissful. She looked at Mark, his eyes sparkling with that peculiar mixture of concentration and freedom that came when someone lost themselves in rhythm.
At last, Mark pulled her away and she held her aching sides, not sure if the pain was from the exercise or the nonstop
laughing.
“Having trouble keeping up?” she gasped up at him.
His lips lifted in a wicked smile. “We both know stamina’s not a problem for me.”
She trailed her fingers up his lean abdomen. “No complaints there.”
“Follow me.” He captured her hand and led her through the trees down to a rocky outcropping about six feet above the gently rolling sea.
The dusky sky had finally abdicated to an inky black, and the dim shapes of scurrying crabs, darting in and out of stones, caught her eye. Mark sat on a boulder and settled her between his legs. She leaned against his hard chest.
The wind had picked up a little, and it whistled low and steady over the rocks. Down on the sand, a shaggy dog raced back and forth in overexcited circles, leaping and twisting into the air to catch pieces of driftwood thrown by its owner as they passed by.
Cassie closed her eyes and burrowed in, trying to clear her head, trying to focus on the elation of being close to Mark again. Trying not to listen to her thoughts, to acknowledge the complications.
But she couldn’t ignore them. Not with her and Mark parting ways in a couple of days. Would she never see him again? The weight of that possibility settled like an icy stone in the pit of her stomach. She shivered.
“You’re cold,” Mark said in her ear and tightened his arm around her. The water before them winked in the growing starlight.
“No. Thinking,” she said, trying to form the words her fear scrambled. She slipped on her cardigan.
“Me, too. I want to get together again, Cassie. When we’re stateside.”
At the searing intensity in his voice, she turned in his arms. Her eyes met his, and in that split second—as a cloud moved off the moon and illuminated the space with light—she tried to convey to him everything she felt, everything she wanted from him. What she’d learned about them and herself.
“When I came on this mission, I never imagined discovering so much,” she began haltingly, wanting to get this right. “I used to play it safe, didn’t challenge myself, believed I was happy. No, content.”
“And now?” He gazed at her, his eyes soft, the emotion in them making her tremble as his hands traced the bare skin of her legs.
“I want to see you again, too. But I also want this.” She nodded at the ocean where two fishermen unloaded their boats, hauling their catch over the side with well-practiced ease. How would Mark take this news? Yesterday’s mission had been touch and go, but she’d been successful. He must see the change in her. Know that she was capable.
Mark’s dark eyebrows drew together. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t want to go back to Idaho. I’m going to talk to Nurse Little about getting a medevac job. See if she’ll recommend me when I apply to work with a SAR unit. To continue Jeff’s legacy.” Cassie stopped and shook her head. No. That wasn’t exactly right. “To start my own legacy.” What her brother had wanted for her all along.
Mark’s sharp frown caught her off guard. “What about what happened yesterday?”
“I helped save Vincent and the other sailors.” She scooted away from his rigid body, a heavy chill settling in her chest.
He sunk his eyes into hers, his anguish shaking her resolve. “And nearly died.”
“I’d rather take those risks than not really live at all.”
“I’ll make you happy. You don’t need that.”
She stared up into his fierce, earnest face and gradually, with the inevitable force of a slow-motion punch, it hit her. It wouldn’t be enough. “I do. I need both.”
His hands dropped from her arms and his jaw tightened. “What if you can’t have both? Which would you choose?”
Silence and tension crackled between them, making everything inside her contract. She wrapped her cardigan tighter around her against the cooling night and listened to the swell and hiss of the tide dragging the pebbles in its loose-fingered embrace.
“Don’t make me choose.” Her stomach churned and she pressed a hand to it.
Mark pinched the bridge of his nose and spoke with his eyes shut. “Yesterday wrecked me. It was bad enough going through that once. I can’t fly, do my job, while I’m wondering how you’re doing, imagining the worst. Worrying about losing you.”
“You said I did a good job. Why won’t you support me? Why can’t you understand why this is important?” she cried, biting back tears. Her joints ached as the pain of being misunderstood settled in them. He didn’t know her as well as she’d thought he did. Why couldn’t he see how much this mattered?
“I almost quit today.” His quiet words fell through the evening hush and he lowered his head. “But realizing I’d gotten through yesterday gave me more faith in myself,” he continued and she released a breath she hadn’t known she held.
“I’m glad.”
He nodded without lifting his head. The knots of muscle in the corners of his jaw jumped. His voice, when it came, was gruff, broken. “But how can I keep testing that resolve every day knowing that you’re also putting yourself at risk?”
“I’ll have to deal with that, too. Knowing I could lose you.” Her body tightened like a wrung towel and she clenched up, dread rising in her throat.
His eyes opened and the deep sadness in their depths rubbed her heart raw. “I’ve trained half my life for my career—I want to keep it. But your decision, it feels rushed. Please reconsider.”
Cassie’s protest lodged in her throat and she gripped her shaking hands together. Never had she wanted anything as much as she wanted Mark, but having him would only be living half a life and she’d vowed never to do that again.
“I care about you, but I can’t shortchange my own dreams for someone else again. I won’t.” The last word cut through the steamy air between them like a cold blade. She heard her own voice fade to a whisper as she waited for his answer.
They were quiet for a dozen painful heartbeats.
When he didn’t respond, she took a deep, shaky breath and pulled herself together with all the strength that she had. She forced herself to pick up her bag and scoot off the rock, her skin prickling, waiting for him to reach for her... A piece of her died when he didn’t even try to stop her.
When she ducked through the trees, she caught sight of William and flagged him down.
“Can I get a ride?”
“Sure. What about Mark?”
“He’ll find his own way,” she muttered when she caught sight of Larry, then followed William to the front of the pub.
Mark would find his own path and so would she. Apart. The thought tore open her chest, splintered her heart, its fragments shredding her.
She dropped her head to her knees and screwed her eyes shut when Iggy’s disappeared from view. A vise wrapped around her lungs and squeezed. She felt like she was suffocating and gasped for air. Her breath filled her ears and she cried silently in the backseat until her chest heaved and her stomach muscles hurt, oblivious to all except losing the man who’d built her up, only to tear her apart, again.
12
CASSIE RUBBED GRITTY eyes the next morning then grabbed the field hospital’s large can of coffee, groggy and miserable. Her hand shook as she measured out the grounds into the filter. How many tablespoons for strong coffee? Two per cup. So forty-eight ounces of water meant...
Crap.
The brown particles overflowed the measuring cap and filled the filter. Too much? A tear plopped onto the counter in front of her. She wiped her cheek with her palm and put the measurer down. It took her some minutes to see clearly again. Whatever she’d poured, it’d have to do.
She carried the carafe to the sink, twisted on the faucet and held it beneath the gushing water. Her chest felt like a crash site, flares of pain surrounding the crater where her heart had been. Everything she’d let herself hope for, Mark
had crushed beneath one regulation-issue boot last night. How could everything have fallen apart so quickly, a house of cards when she’d dreamed of building a life together?
Water sloshed on the counter when she poured it into the reservoir and placed the carafe on the warming plate. She flicked the switch and stared at the machine. It started to gurgle, spit, then flow, the sharp aroma filling the nurses station.
She pressed her fingertips to her throbbing forehead and leaned against the counter. Was Mark as miserable as she was? Did he regret the decision that’d ripped them apart? Every time she thought of it, the tear inside her chest widened. At any moment, she expected to fall apart, cleaved in half.
“Cassie?” Nurse Little appeared in the rear entrance. “You’re not on for an hour. What brings you here?”
“I hoped we could chat before my shift?” Her voice rose at the end, a question. She needed to focus on her future...not her crushing loss.
The older woman nodded, pulled a red mug off a metal rack, poured out the ink-black coffee and joined Cassie, her rubber soles squeaking on the floor. She waved away the steam rising off the surface of her mug before closing her eyes and taking a long drink.
“Strong,” she sputtered then opened her eyes, her gray gaze sharp and assessing. “What can I do for you?”
Cassie’s hands twisted beneath the table and she willed back the relentless tears that gathered in her eyes. “I’m interested in becoming an emergency medical technician and survival flight nurse.”
Her supervisor ripped open a sweetener packet and tapped the white powder into her coffee. The spoon clanked against the china’s sides as she stirred.
“I think that’s a wise decision.”
Cassie blinked at her. “You do?”
“I’ve watched you, Cassie.” She placed her wet spoon precisely on a napkin and gripped her mug handle. “At first, I wasn’t sure about you, despite your advanced credentials. A lot of volunteers lose their enthusiasm once the hard work begins. Yet you asked for even more responsibility with the SAR flight. I’m told you conducted yourself quite well.” She sipped her coffee.