Navy Rules. Geri Krotow

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СКАЧАТЬ recognized your Uncle Max! Do you remember him?”

      “Of course, Mom. I just said hello to him, didn’t I?” Krista muttered in teenage bemusement as she stepped forward and offered Max a hug. He embraced her, his eyes closed and his face impassive. He opened his eyes and held Krista by the shoulders as he studied her.

      “You’ve grown a yard or two, Krista!” He smiled and Krista’s face lit up while a blush crept over her cheeks. Other than her uncles and grandfather, she didn’t get a whole lot of male attention. A bittersweet pang of regret hit Winnie as she thought about how much Tom would have loved Krista, how he would’ve been the one to light up her face like a Christmas tree.

      “Thanks, Uncle Max.”

      “And who’s this?” Max kept his hands on her shoulders as he looked past Krista toward Maeve, who kept playing with her plastic fruits and vegetables, oblivious.

      “My sister, Maeve. Mom says she’s our miracle baby.”

      “She sure is.” Max walked farther into the room and knelt down in front of Maeve. Maeve paused, her thumb in her mouth and a plastic bunch of broccoli in her other hand. She stared at Max unblinking, as if she’d never seen a man before.

      She’s never seen her father before.

      Winnie’s throat constricted and she swallowed. This wasn’t about her, it was about Max and Maeve. About Maeve meeting her father.

      Her daddy.

      “Hi, honey. How are you?” Max’s voice was gentle in spite of its deep timbre. He was patient as he waited for Maeve to respond, and Winnie held her breath. She was acutely aware of Krista’s sharp gaze on the pair, as well. Winnie stood still as Krista met her glance. Krista finally knew who Maeve’s father was.

      Maeve lifted up the plastic broccoli and Winnie’s pride welled. Maeve was such a sweetie—she was going to give her toy to Max, a man she’d never met. But somewhere deep down, she must’ve known Max was her father.

      “Noooo!” Maeve hurled the broccoli at Max, who didn’t move. It hit him in the nose and he didn’t wince, but from having been on the receiving end herself, Winnie knew it hurt.

      “Whoa, sweetie-pie. It’s okay, I don’t like strangers, either.” Max stood and smiled at Krista. “She’s tough like you, isn’t she?”

      Krista laughed. “Yeah, she’s pretty crazy.”

      Winnie cleared her throat.

      “Max, did you eat? I have some leftovers from dinner. I was just cleaning up.”

      “I’m not hungry. But I’ll take a glass of water.”

      Winnie went to the kitchen and filled a plastic tumbler with water from the fridge. Her hands shook and she put the cup on the counter for a moment.

      “Breathe,” she whispered in the quiet kitchen.

      “It’s not so bad for you, trust me.”

      She whirled around and stared at him.

      “Max, I don’t know where to start.”

      “When, Winnie.” He came toward her. “Not where. The question is when should you have started? How about the first time you missed your period after the Air Show?”

      “I was in denial for weeks. Months. I couldn’t believe I’d gotten pregnant after just one time—and with you.”

      “It was more than once, Winnie. Three or four times, if my memory serves.” He continued to look at her with that unyielding glare. “It’s not like we’d never met, like we were a one-night stand.”

      “But we’d never, we’d never—” Her hands gripped the counter behind her at the panic that threatened to stop her breathing.

      “We’d never what, Winnie? Made love?” His palpable anger seemed to shake the air around them. “True, but speak for yourself. You never looked at me, saw me as more than Tom’s friend.”

      “Of course not—”

      “I saw you, Winnie. From that first happy hour at the O Club when we were J.O.s.”

      He couldn’t be talking about the night they’d all met. She, Tom and Max. Could he? She’d been intimidated by Max and his silent presence from that first moment. Tom was affectionate, loving, respectful. He put up with what she knew now were her immature demands.

      “You never liked me, Max, not from the start. You even tried to keep Tom from proposing to me.”

      “I didn’t like the way you behaved, Winnie. The way you treated Tom, as if he was supposed to do what you wanted with no regard for what he’d worked so hard for. He was my best friend. Of course I was going to warn him if I thought he was making a mistake. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t find you attractive. It just wasn’t ever an option.”

      They were inches apart. His gaze wasn’t on her eyes anymore. His chest still heaved, his anger still simmered. But he stared at her lips and she felt his desire as if it were her own.

      “But this isn’t about me. It’s about you, Winnie. I have a child and you didn’t tell me. How the hell am I supposed to take this?’”

      “I’m so sorry, Max. I never meant to hurt you.”

      “Just as you never meant to hurt me by not returning any of my calls or emails after the Air Show? Weak, Winnie, even from you.”

      “I didn’t want you to feel you owed me anything for that…that night.” Of course, that was before she’d realized she was pregnant.

      “That’s not why I was calling you, Winnie.”

      His windbreaker rasped as he lifted his hand to her face and tilted up her chin with one finger.

      Winnie looked into his face and prayed that her knees wouldn’t buckle. His eyes, red-rimmed from anger and probably the wind, reflected something she never expected from Max once he learned about Maeve.

      Interest. Desire.

      “I wanted to be with you, and not just on that night.” His gaze shifted to her lips again and she willed her defenses to kick in and push him back.

      Instead, she met him halfway.

      She felt the instant shock of recognition as the smoothness of his lips touched hers. His kiss ignited the fuse that always lay between them.

      She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, she should be concerned about the girls in the next room, somehow fighting this need to have his mouth on hers. Coherent thought wasn’t an option with Max’s tongue in her mouth and his hands wrapped around her head.

      His hair was wet at his nape and she liked how the short strands rubbed against her palm. Her other hand was on his shoulder, but instead of pushing him away, she was holding on for her very sanity.

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