Navy Rules. Geri Krotow

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СКАЧАТЬ his hands inside his jeans pockets.

      Winnie seemed unmoved by their reunion except for the way she tossed a stray curl out of her face. He saw her do that just a few times before. When she’d heard Tom’s will read by the Navy JAG, when he’d stopped by her house in the weeks after Tom’s death and two years ago, when she’d agreed to meet him for a beer at the local microbrewery after the Air Show. If only one of them had said no that night. If only he hadn’t given in to the surprising yet delightful sexual attraction that sprang up between them. If only they’d preserved their basic friendship, this inevitable meeting might not be so bone-scrapingly painful.

      “This is Sam.” She turned to Sam. “Good dog, Sam. Greet Max.”

      The dog sat and wagged his tail, an expectant look on his dark face. As Max leaned lower he could see the blond eyebrows and wisps of blond coming out of Sam’s ears. He reached out his hand. “Hi, Sam.”

      Sam sniffed inquisitively before he licked Max’s open palm. The dog sidled up to him and sat down next to Max’s sneakered foot.

      “He likes you.” Winnie smiled at Sam while she avoided eye contact with Max.

      His memory of that night two years ago was intact, always had been. She’d enjoyed their lovemaking as much as he had. She could have called him. But Winnie hadn’t, as he’d known she wouldn’t—it wasn’t her style. She’d probably been embarrassed that she’d revealed so much to him that night. Physically, anyhow.

      He’d already seen her inside and out on an emotional level when Tom was killed and he’d been her CACO, her Casualty Assistance Calls Officer. He’d been the one, along with the base chaplain, to knock on Winnie’s door at six in the morning, to inform her that Tom was dead. He’d taken her through all the paperwork, the life insurance forms, the burial arrangements. He’d found child care for Krista when it was needed, when the proceedings were too grim for a seven-year-old child to partake in.

      He’d seen sides of Winnie he’d never expected. The whiny wife he’d chalked her up to be, the woman who always wanted Tom to get out of the Navy, turned into a strong widow before his eyes. She didn’t blame the Navy or Tom for his untimely death. Through the devastating grief, he watched her accept the unwelcome change in her and Krista’s lives with dignified grace.

      Her grace was one of the many things about her that attracted him. A more serious relationship with Winnie, however, had never been a remote possibility. His first allegiance was to Tom and the Navy, and he planned to keep it that way.

      He had more work to do, as the counselor said. And not all of it concerned his PTSD.

      “I have hot water for tea,” he said. “Would you like to come in?”

      Winnie lifted her chin and her gaze finally met his. The sparks in their brown depths took him back to that night with her, that one great night.

      Before his life as a Navy pilot had been shattered.

      “Okay, thanks.” She offered him a smile, but it didn’t come close to reaching her eyes. “We won’t stay too long, just enough to make sure you’ll be comfortable with Sam this weekend.”

      * * *

      THE KITCHEN WAS SLEEK and modern, as she remembered. It had been “the” house when they were all so much younger. Before death had cast a long and early shadow across their lives. Winnie watched Max pour hot water from the stainless kettle into the iron teapot. She didn’t dare look at his face. But then, staring at his masculine hands was awkward, too; as she remembered the last time she’d seen him.

      When those hands had been all over her.

      She sighed. Not dating was the only option for her at the moment but it had its drawbacks. Being acutely aware of her sexual attraction to Max was one of them.

      “How’s Krista?” His deep baritone broke the silence of the square house.

      “Krista’s great, fine. She’s in middle school.”

      Her reply was as bare, as unadorned, as the house. She knew it and, judging by his raised brows, so did Max.

      “She’s a great kid. Tom would be proud of her.” Her cadence was still too clipped. He was going to wonder why.

      Stop it.

      “I’m glad. Has she—” Max pulled out a strainer for the tea “—adjusted okay?”

      “It’s been almost six years, Max. It was a horrible time for her, but she doesn’t remember as much of the awfulness of it as we do.”

      He poured the tea with practiced ease.

      “I forgot you’re a tea drinker.” She’d grown up in Washington State where coffee was a staple. But Max’s mother was from England and his father a Harvard law professor; tea was the drink of choice in his childhood home. Years ago, Tom and their aviation friends had teased him mercilessly about it.

      “Yeah, some things stay the same. Honey?” His voice triggered her awareness of him. And took her thoughts back to the night of the Air Show when he’d whispered in her ear.

      “No, just plain. Thanks.” The kitchen counter stool was cold against her back. She had to focus on where she was today and stay away from memories of that night.

      She had to get back to the purpose of her visit—telling Max what the fateful outcome of that night had been. Telling him he was a father.

      But she couldn’t do it. “You want to have Sam for the whole weekend?” she asked. Nothing about Maeve, only the dog. She couldn’t strike the match that would ignite an explosion of feelings—recrimination, accusation, disbelief, anger.

      “If it’s okay with you. Yes, I thought that would keep my therapist happy and cause the least amount of trouble for you.”

      “It’s no trouble for me, Max. I come back and forth to the base every week. This is only another ten minutes past there. I can easily bring him over daily instead of leaving him.” She’d never leave Sam with a new client, but Max was hardly new to her.

      “We’ll work it out.” He seemed distracted.

      Tell him.

      “Winnie, I owe you an apology. I was a real shit after the Air Show two years ago. I did try to reach you, but when you didn’t respond I should’ve been more persistent. I was getting ready to go to war, and frankly, that took over my life. But I want you to realize I didn’t take that night casually.”

      Her stomach felt as if it had collapsed inward and she fought to keep her demeanor calm and collected. Without knowing it, Max was making her need to take responsibility more painful.

      This isn’t about you. It’s about Maeve and her daddy. He deserves to know. Screw up your courage and get it over with.

      “Stop it—we’re both adults. No apology needed.” Yet her face grew hotter by the second.

      Where was this reaction coming from? She’d decided to keep him out of her life, away from Maeve.

      You’re angry at yourself. You’ve kept him from his daughter.

      “No, СКАЧАТЬ