Authors: Dee Henderson
He thought for a moment and knew one way he could return the favor. “If you’ve found the paint and wallpaper you want for the kitchen, do you want to work on the project tomorrow evening?”
“Sure, if you have time.”
“I’ll make time. Leave the ceiling for me.”
“It’s all yours.” She fed the last bite of her cookie to Misha. “I saw the evening news. I can’t believe no one has come forward with information about Iris Wells. If she were on a boat and fell overboard . . . But no one called for help. And no one reported seeing her on the docks Sunday. The last time someone reported seeing her was 3 p.m.”
“The investigation has just started. Give them another few days. They probably know a great deal more than they’re making public.” He didn’t mention the fact he had spent over an hour talking with the investigators late that afternoon, going over the details about finding her on the beach and also the details on paperwork his platoon would have sent to personnel recently. The investigators were developing a list of everything she could have seen in the last few months. Since she handled scheduling for training classes around the country, most platoons had contact with Miss Wells. If there was any suspicion of foul play, the investigators would find it. When the time came they needed to talk to Kelly, they agreed to notify him first.
“Did you talk to Christi about Boomer’s birthday party?” he said.
“We were thinking about doing something at the park. Rent the pavilion, have a cookout. Christi will try to do too much if we throw the party at someone’s home. Maybe if we did it on the third Saturday? That would give us five weeks to plan it.”
“I could take him fishing that morning, then deliver him back to the party.”
“That would be great.”
“The guys have been talking about getting him a new set of free weights.”
“He’d love them.”
Joe heard her real opinion in the tone of her voice and glanced over at her. “I’m dead if I ever get you something that practical.”
“Absolutely.”
“Just for the record, I like practical. I could use a new sander.”
“There is a rule about buying a guy tools. If you give me brand, model, and accessories, I’ll consider it. Otherwise, forget it.”
“Is that why Nick was always pestering me before Christmas? He was doing your investigative work?”
“You had better believe it.”
“I’ll remember.”
“If you do, I promise never to buy you a tie.”
“I’ve already got a drawer full of them from my mother, never worn. The last thing I need is a tie.”
Kelly swatted at a mosquito. “I think they like this perfume.”
He grinned. “I know I do.”
“Well remember it, because in another minute I’m going to smell like mosquito repellent. Need anything while I’m inside?”
“I’m fine.”
“Be back in a minute.”
He was relieved Kelly had stepped back inside for a moment. He would love to tug her down on his lap and figure out where she had touched that perfume to her skin. It was a problem, the aching awareness of her he had. She moved; he noticed. It was becoming an interesting—and increasingly difficult—challenge to keep his concentration on the conversation and the meal when he also had the pleasure of looking at her.
He gave a comfortable sigh. Evenings like this were nice. He enjoyed crashing on her back deck after a hard day and spending time with her. It would be so nice to be married; he wouldn’t have to get kicked out of a comfortable chair to go back to a solitary home anymore. Having to call it a night, walk home, and spend it alone—it was getting old very quickly.
He leaned his head back as he heard the patio door open and Kelly came back outside. “Come sit with me.” He caught hold of her hand and tumbled her onto his lap.
“Joe!”
She felt so good in his arms. He considered kissing her—had been considering nothing else for the last few days—but decided it might spook her. He doubted she’d kissed anyone since Nick, and he wasn’t eager to rush that comparison. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to take advantage of the situation. He slowly smiled. “I seem to remember you’re ticklish.”
Her helpless peals of laughter filled the evening as he proved his memory correct.
Nineteen
* * *
“Now this is a sight I could get used to.” Joe came to a stop beside Kelly’s back patio. It was a quiet morning, slightly foggy, a perfect morning to run. Kelly was stretching. Her shorts had shrunk since the last time he had seen them; either that or her legs had grown longer. She always had great legs. He tried to temper his appreciative gaze by remembering he had seen Kelly in shorts before, but in truth he didn’t try very hard. He was dating her; it would be rude not to notice.
She glanced up and it was obvious she had no idea what he was thinking or that openness in her greeting would have never survived. Kelly had a blush that could rival a red rose. “Good morning.”
She must have just rolled out of bed; she still looked half asleep. He felt the sucker punch of what it would be like if they were married to see her tussled hair and sleepy eyes, arms curled around a pillow, lying beside him in bed, just stirring to wake up. “We can wait until you’ve had your coffee, Kelly.”
She yawned and covered it with the back of her hand. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine once I’m moving.” She got to her feet. “Can I set the pace?”
“Sure.”
He followed her down the path to the beach. The water was calm this morning, the waves rolling in with gentle swells. Kelly started in the soft sand and soon moved closer to the water where the sand was packed by earlier tides. Joe pulled back his pace to match her stride, staying higher on the beach where the sand was softer and the workout harder.
They passed SEALs running in small groups along the beach, the cadres of men putting in their two and three miles to loosen up before going to work, where they would do the serious physical training for another two and a half hours.
“Are you normally a loner in the mornings?” Kelly glanced back at a group they had just passed. “They’re certainly surprised to see you running with someone.”
“You’re prettier than Boomer.”
“Got it. Let’s hope I don’t embarrass you.”
“Not possible.”
“Gallant of you.”
He smiled at that. She lengthened her stride.
They ran the first mile in silence. Joe watched her from the corner of his eye and began to get concerned. Her pace was too fast and she was breathing rapidly. Rather than settle back into the natural pace her body needed, any time they were passed by other SEALs she actually increased their pace.
She glanced over at him. “How’s the ankle?”
“Fine.” He had been ignoring it.
“Seriously.”
“Fine. How’s the stitch in your side?”
“As good as your ankle.”
“You’re stubborn.” Her muscles had to be quivering like Jell-O; running on sand increased the effort required. “Slow down a notch; you don’t have to prove anything to me.”
“Maybe I do to myself,” she replied, but did ease her pace.
That sensible act lasted only until they were passed again, this time by two teens who had to be in high school, probably on the track team. Her pace picked up again.
Joe decided to remain silent. She moved past two miles and started on three. Stubbornness had to meet common sense eventually. She suddenly stumbled.
He grabbed her arm, afraid she had twisted her ankle. “Kelly?”
“That was stupid of me.”
She leaned over, resting her hands against her knees, sucking in air. Not her ankle—she had lost her balance when her legs gave out.
“Sit down.” He was angry at himself for letting her run too far, at the wrong pace, when he knew she should have started slowly over several days.
She waved the suggestion away.
“Need some help, Lieutenant?”
Joe glanced over and saw Cougar thirty feet away, pausing in his own run, obviously concerned. “Could you get me a water jug from the obstacle course?” The base and its expansive training grounds were just ahead, adjoining the public beach.
“Joe! Cougar, I’m fine.”
Kelly looked mortified that he was pulling someone else into this, but Joe refused to let her change his decision this time. He glanced at the man waiting. “Go.”
Cougar nodded and set a pace that ate up sand.
Kelly took a deep breath and glanced up at him. “That wasn’t necessary.”
“I disagree.”
“I only need to catch my breath.”
“Accept a little common sense. You won’t win this debate.”
She walked away from him, circling, fighting leg muscles that were quivering. “So I pushed. You guys do it all the time.”
“We also train constantly and prep for those days we need to push. All you did was prove you can’t use willpower to overcome lack of training.”
Cougar returned with the water. The silent question asked as he handed over the two bottles had Joe shaking his head. Kelly wouldn’t appreciate more direct intervention. With a nod Cougar returned to his run.
Joe made sure Kelly drank more than she thought she needed. She was angry but also embarrassed. “Come on,” he said softly. “I’ll walk you home.”
She shot him a look of annoyance. “I don’t need the company.”
“Come on.”
It was a long, silent walk. “What were you trying to prove?” Joe finally asked.
“Nothing.”
“Kelly—” he didn’t know how to handle her—“please answer me.”
“I used to run four miles every day with Nick.”
She wanted to reclaim her past all in a day. What had brought this on? “Start running regularly, and you’ll do four miles again easily.”
She didn’t answer him.
They eventually reached her home. “I’ll pick you up, same time tomorrow.”
“No thanks.”
“I didn’t ask. Be ready. You’ll thank me for it in a few weeks.” He sighed when the patio door quietly closed. Whatever had been bothering her this morning, it had just left a very bad taste for both of them. What had he done? This wasn’t like Kelly. Everything had been fine when he first picked her up. It made him miserable to know something he had done must have caused the change. As he ran along the shoreline back toward base, he was the one others glanced at and tried to keep up with.
* * *
“All right, Ryan!” Kelly cheered from the water’s edge as he made another successful ride. She had taken her lunch break early so she could surf with him for half an hour.
She was trying her best to forget that morning. How was she supposed to tell Joe it bugged her that he wasn’t Nick? Joe was quiet when he ran. By the end of that first mile, Kelly had begun to resent getting up early and being out of shape, and the silence grated on her nerves. Nick told her jokes. He told her jokes when she groused about getting up, when she warmed up, and during their run he made sure she had more to think about than the fact she was running.
She teased Joe about being a bear in the mornings, but she had been worse. A grouch. She owed him an apology and she didn’t know how to explain her behavior. Tomorrow. She would learn her lesson and be the one to start the conversation. He had been running on his own or with Boomer for the last three years. He wasn’t accustomed to just chatting. When he ran, he thought about running. She had always liked that about him before, his attention to what he was doing. Well, it only made sense that there would be a few times when that same trait would irritate her.
Ryan planted his board next to hers in the sand. “Was that one better?”
“Great. You made the adjustments beautifully.” Ryan had great balance, but he tended to oversteer and crash when the wave momentum began to push him. This time he rode the wave until it diminished.
“When I keep my weight on my back foot, I can feel the board responding to the wave.”
“That’s the biggest part of being a great surfer. You have to feel what the wave is doing.” She picked up her surfboard and headed back into the water. “Can we make this our last ride? I’m freezing.”
“Sure.”
They swam out on their boards until the swells were beginning to show their form. “Which wave?”
Ryan chose well. Kelly watched to make sure he got up on the board, then picked up the wave behind him. He rode the wave into the shore. She heard the applause as he finished and turned her attention as she finished her own ride, dropping into the water when her wave ran out.
Charles. Ryan was recounting his morning as Kelly carried her board to the beach and pulled on her sweat-suit jacket. She towel-dried her hair as she walked toward them.
“I saw that last ride. Ryan is improving.”
Kelly put her arm across the boy’s shoulders and gave him a hug. “Ryan is a great student. I’m proud of him. Another few weeks, and he’ll be riding the waves like that every time.” Ryan was blushing. She ruffled his hair and laughed as she stepped away, having made sure he both heard and felt the praise. “What about you, Charles? Ryan didn’t tell me if you surf.”
“I can wipe out with the best of them.”
She grinned at the self-directed humor. “Really?”
“I’m athletic enough to know I prefer my feet on the ground.”
The fact he didn’t mind admitting it to a lifeguard made her like him all the more. There was no attempt to impress.
“You looked pretty good out there too.”
“Lots of practice.”
“I hear a dodge there, but I’ll let you off the hook.”
He could pay a compliment and not mind if it was gently deflected. She appreciated that.
“Nice tie, Dad.”
Ryan shrieked with laughter as his dad wrapped him up in a hug. “You bought it.”
The yellow silk was out of place with the otherwise conservative dark suit. Charles definitely looked out of place on the beach, but apparently was not worried about what the salt water and sand would do to his suit and shoes.
“What’s the medallion, Kelly? It’s pretty.”
She lifted her hand to close around it. “Nick’s eagle. My husband’s call sign in the SEALs was Eagle because he walked point, was the spotter for the group. He wore this medallion for years.”