At Your Command. Julie Miller

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СКАЧАТЬ like it, but understood. An echo of silence passed before he shook loose his shoulders and twisted his neck from side to side, forcibly relaxing his posture if not convincing Becky he had truly relaxed.

      “Then maybe we’d better get going,” she suggested, not knowing what more she could do, even if he were willing to share. She pointed toward the fence. “I’m parked in the visitors’ lot. I can drive until we can get your truck out of storage.”

      With a nod, he heaved his duffel bag up onto his shoulder. After holding back for a moment, he lengthened his stride to fall into step beside her and settled his hand at the back of her waist. “Sorry. All the way home I was thinking about falling into bed. With you. I guess it was stupid to think nothing about us would change after eighteen months apart. This marriage thing takes a little getting used to.”

      “I know what you mean.” It shamed her to think of how she’d kept the news of her “gettin’hitched” tucked away like a secret weapon in her back pocket—waiting until the moment was right to tell her parents, until now the secret weighed like an anchor around her neck. It was becoming more and more clear that there was more to making a marriage than a legal document. “It’s as though we have to get reacquainted all over again.”

      And there was only one way they’d really known and understood each other, even back in D.C.

      “I thought I was doing the right thing—making you my wife—in case something happened to me, or I got you pregnant. I just wanted you to know that what we had meant something to me.”

      Becky halted in her tracks. “I’m a big girl, Zachariah.” She snagged his hand as he walked past. At that slightest of tugs, he stopped and looked down over his shoulder at her. “That week meant something to me, too. But you don’t have to take care of me. You just have to…be with me. While you’re here. While we’re together.” Her own plans, which she’d stewed over for months, were changing even as she spoke. “We’ll figure out whatever we’ve missed in each other’s lives later. For now, let’s just try to stay in the moment, shall we?”

      He considered the bargain, then altered his grip to lace his fingers together with hers and pull her to his side. “In the moment. Sure. I can do that. Now take me to your car.”

      She pointed toward the gate. “Over there.”

      He shifted direction and guided them through the fringes of the lingering crowd. He dipped his head to her ear so she could hear him as they hurried past the band, which was playing a Sousa march. “In your last e-mail, you mentioned something about that honeymoon we missed?”

      His lips stayed close and nuzzled the sensitive skin beneath her earlobe.

      Honeymoon. She liked the sound of that. Becky wound her other hand around Zachariah’s and hugged herself against his arm. The brush of his lips and heat off his skin sparked something prickly and needy inside her. Maybe this awkward tension between them was nothing more than frustrated physical energy. Maybe once they got the lust—which had been simmering for eighteen months—out of their systems, everything else would fall into place. They could talk. He could lighten up. She could walk away.

      Becky stumbled over the momentary hesitation of her feet. Don’t go there.

      But, linked to the brace of Zachariah’s arm, she couldn’t fall. And because it had to be brief, she didn’t want to retreat from the time they could be spending together. Not wanting to shout, she waited until the band was behind them before she answered, “I might have an idea or two in mind about that honeymoon.”

      “Spread those ideas out. Other than a quick visit to my folks out in Nebraska, you’ve got me for six whole weeks.”

      Six weeks? Um, yeah. About that…

      “Unless you want to come with me?” he offered. “The ranch should be green and pretty in the middle of summer—the lake water nice and cool.”

      Nebraska? Ranch? Lake water? “Do you go sailing?”

      “It’s not that big a lake. Fishing, mostly.” He released her hand and slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush to his side and hurrying their pace. “But I was thinking more along the lines of skinny-dipping after midnight.”

      In lake water? “Is that sanitary?”

      “Sanitary? Man, you sure know how to sweet-talk a guy. Here I am, imagining the moonlight on your bare skin, and you’re worried about the greeblies in the water.”

      “So there is something in the water.”

      “Fish. Hence, the fishing.” He grinned. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

      She tensed. In the moment. Stay in the moment. “You told me you live on a ranch. Don’t the cows use the water, too—”

      “Yo, Clarksie!”

      Becky jumped in her skin as a man materialized from between two parked cars and charged toward them, his arm outstretched. He was big, not by Zachariah standards, but big enough that everything inside Becky jerked with the urge to run in the opposite direction.

      Zachariah braced for an instant in a protective stance between her and the man. Then the tension rolled off his shoulders along with his duffel bag and he released her to stick out his own hand to greet the man with a handshake. “Action Man!”

      While Becky squashed down the startled heartbeat that pounded in her chest, she took note of the dark royal pants and khaki shirt that marked “Action Man” as another military officer. The handshake became a bear hug that involved backslapping, ribald nicknames and seeing who could squeeze the other harder.

      Clearly an old friend, judging by the rapid-fire questions about families and work and the “How’ve you beens?”

      Not a threat.

      Not even anything to do with her.

      Way to play it cool, Owens.

      The dressed-up Marine pulled an athletic-looking woman up beside him and tucked her under his arm. “I’m as good-lookin’ as ever and I’ve got some of the best prospects I’ve had in a long time. This is Tess.”

      “Tess, eh? I’m Zachariah Clark.”

      The woman named Tess smiled and took his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Clarksie. Most of it, I couldn’t repeat to my mother. But to hear Trav tell it, it’s all good. Welcome home.”

      “Aw, shucks. Thanks, ma’am.” Zachariah leaned forward. “Is she the one you e-mailed me about?”

      The man named Travis didn’t even hesitate. “She’s the one, period. I’ve still got some details to work out, but—”

      As embarrassed by her knee-jerk reaction as she was relieved, Becky took a deep breath and stepped forward to be introduced. “Do I have to hang back like the paparazzi? Or do I get an introduction, too?”

      “Geez. Sorry, darlin’.” Quickly shifting his stance to pull Becky into the conversation, Zachariah rested his hand at the small of her back and made the introductions. “Travis McCormick, this is my…my wife.” The fingers at her back contracted. An apology? Or did the word feel as awkward on his tongue as СКАЧАТЬ