By Request Collection April-June 2016. Оливия Гейтс

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       17

       Six months later

      CHASE DIRECTED THE taxi driver along the sandy road that paralleled the beach, his eyes scanning the street until his little beach cottage came into view. Had it really been more than a year since he’d been home? He drew in a deep breath, willing his heart to slow down. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this nervous and excited all at the same time. Even when they’d finally managed to capture Al-Azir, in a mission that had challenged him on every level, he hadn’t felt the way he did now.

      Uncertain.

      Optimistic.

      Scared as hell.

      He had four weeks of leave ahead of him before he needed to report back to Fort Bragg. He could have gone to Texas to spend time with his folks. Instead, he’d come directly from the airport to Beaufort, North Carolina, because that’s where Kate was waiting for him. He hadn’t even changed out of his uniform.

      “Pull up here,” he instructed the driver, peeling some bills from his wallet and handing them over.

      Grabbing his gear from the trunk, he set everything down at the end of the walkway and took a minute just to look. The cottage was exactly as he remembered, with the overhanging porch and weathered shingles. Only now, flowering pots hung between the pillared supports and someone had put a fresh coat of paint on the door and windows. A small table and two chairs had been placed on the far end of the porch, where the view of the water was unobstructed.

      He’d hoped to see Kate waiting for him on the porch, but maybe she was inside. Drawing another deep breath, he picked up his duffel bags and made his way to the door. It opened beneath his fingers, and he stepped into the house, knowing instinctively that he was alone.

      Kate wasn’t there.

      His spirits dipped in disappointment.

      Setting his gear down in the corner, he walked slowly through the rooms, his boots heavy on the wood floors. Everything was the same, yet different. He noted the subtle changes, like the floral rug in the living room that brightened the small space and drew his attention to the fresh flowers on the coffee table and on the fireplace mantel. In the kitchen, a pale green sweater lay draped over the back of a chair. Chase picked it up and carried it to his face, breathing in Kate’s scent.

      Where the hell was she?

      After she’d left Afghanistan, he’d spent hours on the phone and online, persuading her to move to North Carolina and into his beach cottage. It made no sense for the house to sit empty when she could use it, he’d argued. There was a spare bedroom if she didn’t feel comfortable sleeping in his bed. She could use the time to get her web-design business up and running, and if she wanted to find her own place after he returned, he wouldn’t argue. She’d be doing him a favor by looking after the place for him.

      In the end, she’d relented and he’d known a fierce sense of satisfaction in picturing her there, in his house. Sitting on his porch. Using his shower. Maybe even sleeping in his bed.

      Walking down the hallway, he pushed open the door to his bedroom, and gave a huff of disappointed laughter. Definitely not sleeping in his bed. Not yet, anyway. His room was as Spartan as it had been when he had left it more than a year ago. There were no traces of Kate here.

      Closing the door, he continued down the hall to the next room. What had been a sparsely furnished storage and guest room was now a distinctly feminine bedroom. Gone were his Texas Rangers bedspread and the stash of spare army gear he’d kept piled in one corner. The bed now boasted a downy comforter in a floral pattern, and at least a half dozen pillows. More cut flowers stood on the nightstand and dresser, and feminine underclothes lay strewn across the bed and on a nearby chair. A dozen framed photos adorned the walls and he stepped closer to inspect them, seeing they were pictures of Kate and her sister, and even one of a very young Willa Dean holding an infant.

      A work table had been set up against one wall as a makeshift desk. A pile of books and papers surrounded Kate’s laptop, which sat open and blinking. Curious, he tapped the keyboard and the monitor flared into life. He could see she was in the middle of designing a website, and he bent down for a closer look, impressed when he saw her client was a top model.

      Leaving her room, he went into the backyard. Flower beds had been planted near the house, and a new set of outdoor furniture sat beneath a bright patio umbrella. Kate had left a plate and a half-empty glass of lemonade on the table. Chase was getting ready to carry them into the house when he heard the crunch of gravel in the driveway.

      He СКАЧАТЬ