Point Of Departure. Lindsay McKenna

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СКАЧАТЬ I—uh, thought I’d drop over and see how you were this morning,” he said awkwardly. “You didn’t look very good last night, and I was worried about you.” He groaned inwardly as he felt heat sweeping up his neck into his face. The truth of the matter was he had slept restlessly all night, thinking about—actually, feeling a lot about—Callie Donovan. He’d tried fighting it, but had finally awakened at 0600 grumpy and groggy from tossing and turning.

      “Well—”

      “I know it’s early—”

      They both spoke at once, then broke off.

      “No, it’s okay. Really,” Callie said. She saw the concern burning in his startlingly clear gray eyes. In the morning sunlight, Ty Ballard was ruggedly handsome in his own unique way. He stood straight and tall, his shoulders proudly thrown back, his face recently scraped free of the beard that had darkened his features last night. Callie saw a flush touch his cheeks and realized he was blushing. How long had it been since she’d seen a man blush?

      Trying to still his nervousness, Ty said, “I’d give you a line, but I think you’ve had a gutful of those lately.”

      With a grimace, Callie said, “I hate lines. They’re so shallow.” Pilots were shallow. Well, maybe not all of them….

      “Yeah, we’re famous for them, aren’t we? Look, I thought I might take you out to breakfast or something, if you felt like it.” He was having one hell of a time not staring at her. The green silk robe lovingly outlined her body. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes slightly puffy from just waking up. Ty found himself wondering what it would be like to wake up with Callie at his side. The thought came out of left field, so startling that it left him momentarily speechless.

      “Oh, no…” Callie’s heart was fluttering beneath his burning, hungry inspection, and she suddenly found herself at a loss.

      Risking everything, Ty took a step forward and opened his hand in a gesture of peace. “Well, then, I’m pretty mean with scrambled eggs. I cook bacon reasonably well. How about if I come in and fix you breakfast before I head to work?”

      She gave him a strange, searching look. “Why are you doing this?”

      Ty stood nakedly beneath her scrutiny. With a one-shouldered shrug, he muttered, “I don’t know. Out of guilt, maybe. I know Remington. And I know his reputation. You’ve only been at Miramar a month, and this isn’t exactly a good welcome to the station. Maybe I’m trying to apologize.” Well, that was partly true, Ty told himself. If Callie Donovan ever found out that he was genuinely drawn to her, he was certain she’d slam the door in his face. He didn’t blame her for disliking navy pilots, but dammit, he liked her; and despite the circumstances, he wanted a chance to get to know her.

      “I—”

      “I’ll be quick about it,” he pleaded. “Come on, let me fix you breakfast.” He held his hands up. “No funny stuff, I promise.”

      Callie’s defenses crumbled beneath his warm, cajoling look. If she believed the sincerity in his eyes and voice, she could allow him this privilege. “I feel kinda awkward about this, Commander.”

      “Call me Ty.” He took another hopeful step forward. He wasn’t going to barge past her, or force himself on her. There was a fine line he was walking, and right now it felt like a double-edged sword. Callie’s huge blue eyes were touched with doubt and wariness. “How about it? My mother didn’t raise me not to cook and clean. Want to take a chance with me?”

      The words felt like they were being etched into Callie’s heart. Take a chance. How many times had she done just that and gotten hurt? But there was such a boyish demeanor about Ballard that she finally managed a small laugh and stepped aside.

      “I’ll bet you charm snakes for a living, too, Commander,” she grumbled.

      Euphoric, Ty moved into the highly waxed foyer. He had the good grace not to gloat too obviously about his victory. “Can’t we be on a first-name basis?”

      With a shrug, Callie shut the door. “I guess so.”

      He walked with her toward the kitchen. “Callie’s an unusual name.”

      “Yes, my full name is Calista, but it got shortened at a very early age. I’ve always been called Callie.”

      He smiled as they entered the sunlit kitchen. “It’s not run-of-the-mill, but then, neither are you. The name suits you.”

      “I’m not so sure of that,” Callie murmured as she moved away from Ballard. Just being close to him was intimidating. He made her pulse jag erratically, and she sensed that aura of power around him, that indestructible confidence. She felt his gaze on her back as she moved over to the stove and counter area. No doubt about it. He made her very nervous.

      “I’m going to shower and get into something more appropriate,” she told him.

      “Fine, fine. I’ll make myself at home in the kitchen. When you come back, I promise you’ll have a breakfast you’ll never forget.”

      Callie hesitated in the doorway. Ballard looked positively happy. He placed his cap on the counter and began humming softly. With a shake of her head, she wondered which one of them was crazy. Her, for letting him into her apartment, or him for walking back into her life when he certainly didn’t have to?

      Although her ankle was badly swollen and the color of a ripe, purple plum, Callie was able to take a hot, invigorating shower. In her bedroom, she dressed in a pair of light blue slacks and a pink short-sleeved blouse, then called the station. She told the man on duty at Intelligence that she had a sick chit authorizing five days of rest. If Commander Remington wanted any more information, he was to contact Dr. Lipinski.

      Glad that she didn’t have to go in and face Remington, Callie sat on the bed and rewrapped her ankle with the Ace bandage. She had washed her hair, and now she took a brush to the dark mass. Because her hair was short, just above regulation collar level, it fell quickly into place.

      Hating the crutches, she made her way on bare feet back out to the kitchen, from which wonderful scents were originating. Hungrily, Callie inhaled the aroma of frying bacon. Automatically, as she entered the kitchen, her pulse began to bound a little. Ty Ballard had tied one of her aprons around his waist. His sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows, and he stood happily stirring eggs in the skillet. As if sensing her presence, he lifted his head and turned to look at her.

      “Smells great, doesn’t it? Come on, have a seat. I’ve set the table.” Ty quickly moved over to pull out a chair for her. Trying not to stare like a slavering wolf, he forced himself to pay attention to the scrambled eggs. Callie looked like the proverbial girl-next-door in her simple slacks and blouse. And he liked the fact that she went around barefoot. Despite being one of the elite academy ring-knockers, she possessed an intriguing innocence that he ached to explore.

      Callie moved to the table, which had been set with her good china, pink linen napkins rolled neatly beside the plates. A cup of recently poured coffee and a small glass of orange juice awaited her. Everything was perfect. She sat down and set the crutches aside.

      “I’m in shock,” she said.

      Ty twisted to look over his shoulder as he added cream cheese and bacon bits to the scrambled eggs. “Over what?”

      “You. СКАЧАТЬ