Читать книгу The Colonels' Texas Promise - Caro Carson - Страница 11

Chapter Three

Evan followed Juliet down the stairs and out into the crisply cool and brightly sunny Texas afternoon.

He followed Juliet.

Juliet Grayson was here.

He’d kissed her, and everything was still there. Everything that he hadn’t known how to handle at twenty-one. Everything he’d recognized too late at twenty-seven. Everything he’d tried to bury at twenty-nine. Everything he’d thought he’d never have in this lifetime.

Because I don’t deserve to have her.

He shoved the guilt deep down, where it had been locked away with his memories of Juliet. Now he could allow the memories of Juliet, but he wanted to keep the guilt buried deep. Maybe he’d inadvertently pushed the wrong man her way, but he’d done the right thing and stayed out of their life once he’d heard Rob Jones had gotten her to the altar. Evan hadn’t had anything to do with their divorce.

She’d gotten divorced anyway. She was free. Single. And she’d come to remind him of their marriage pact on the very day the conditions of that pact had come into play.

She’d come to do more than remind him.

You should meet my son first, she’d said, and he hadn’t been able to contain his smile. First. Before the actual ceremony, she’d meant, as if it were a foregone conclusion that they would be married. She had come not to say hello, not to reminisce, but to fulfill the pact they’d made the night before their graduation.

He needed to touch her again, to feel her skin so he’d know this wasn’t a miraculous mirage dredged up from subconscious dreams. He wanted to give her hand a squeeze of excitement or reassurance or something.

He could not. It would break regulations. There was no hand-holding between soldiers in the US Army, not even if they wore one another’s wedding rings. If Evan were wearing the more formal blue service uniform and if it were after dark and if they were attending a social function, then he would be allowed to offer her his arm to escort her through the parking lot.

That wasn’t the situation now. He was the battalion commander, being saluted by every single person they passed. She was being saluted as well, of course, since they were the same rank. He loved the way they both raised their right arms in sync and briefly touched the right corners of their brims to return the salutes. He loved the sound of her high heels on the concrete sidewalk. He loved the cool but sunny Texas winter weather. He loved every frigging thing about the whole frigging universe.

Juliet Grayson was here.

She stopped beside his vehicle. Since it was parked in a spot marked Battalion Commander, it was no surprise that she guessed which vehicle was his.

“A Corvette,” she said with a little laugh.

The memory was so clear, it was incredible that he’d forgotten it until this second. He laughed, too, and imitated the frustrated lament of a college-age Juliet. “Why is such a sexy car always driven by somebody old enough to be my grandfather?”

She shrugged a shoulder as she traced one metal curve, but her lips twitched with mischief. “I was right, you know. When I saw this car on my way into the building, I had a moment of worry that you were ready to retire to Florida.”

“Not yet. Nor for a long while.” He watched her feminine fingers sliding along his sports car. “We can enjoy this while we’re still young.”

Her fingers paused. That brief, familiar flash of Juliet’s teasing smile disappeared, leaving something more polite, more distant. “Unfortunately, they haven’t invented a Corvette with more than two seats. We’ll have to use my car when we go anywhere together. Party of three, not two.”

“Makes sense.” But he would take her for a long drive, just the two of them, top down, engine purring. Soon.

“School lets out in forty-five minutes,” she said.

He checked his watch, a simple reflex. The second hand swept in its circle. The minute hand had moved just a quarter of an hour since he’d last checked the time. Juliet had walked into his office fifteen minutes ago. It hit him hard: his life was never going to be the same from this moment on. In less than a quarter of an hour, everything had changed.

Was it possible for life to take a turn for the better so suddenly?

God knew it could turn bad in less time than that. A car accident could alter the course of a life in the second it took tires to screech and metal to crunch. An explosion could shatter the monotony of a base camp overseas. One minute, life was fine, and in the next, it would never be the same. He’d seen it happen enough times to enough people. They could pinpoint the exact moment their life had abruptly been set on a new path. Whether one of nightmares or prosthetic limbs, regrets or rehab, they hadn’t been ready for the sharp turn. No one was ever ready.

Evan hadn’t expected his life to take a sharp turn today for better or for worse. But as Juliet stood by his Corvette and told him about school schedules—spring sports teams had started practicing, but games didn’t start for two weeks—he knew his life would never be the same again. He’d been a confirmed bachelor fifteen minutes ago; Juliet Grayson had set a silver insignia on his desk, and now he was going to be a husband and a father—or rather, a stepfather. A family man.

Finally.

The euphoria took him utterly by surprise.

“Juliet.” Damn it—were his hands shaking? He clasped them behind his back, a soldier’s stance, parade rest.

Juliet had fallen silent at the way he’d said her name.

He forced himself to relax. At ease.

She was waiting for him to say something else. How many times had he seen her look at him just like this? Waiting for him to help her haul somebody’s parents’ used couch up a flight of stairs. Waiting for him to pour some rum they were too young to have into her can of Coke at a party that wasn’t supposed to be held in the dorm. Waiting for him to dance with her by a fountain on the green.

“What, Evan?”

I feel like I’ve been waiting my entire life for this minute.

He couldn’t say that. He couldn’t say anything. He could only look at her—he couldn’t look away from her, a vibrant, vital woman who was about to become a vibrant, vital part of his life, a life that had just changed radically.

He forced himself to speak, even if emotion made his voice a little too rough, a little too low. “I forgot... I’d forgotten how you looked.” I forced myself not to think about it.

“Oh.”

“I’m saying this wrong. I didn’t forget what you looked like,” he admitted to her. To himself. “I forgot how it was. How good it was to have you as my friend. How good it is to have you here, standing right here. To watch your face as you talk. To hear your voice. It’s—”

“I know what you mean. It’s really different to see you in 3-D after so many years of only having those old photos from college.”

She’d looked at photos of him, for years.

He could not touch her. Not here. Not now. But soon.

She’d come to get him at his own office, a very Juliet move. When she wanted something, she’d always gone out and gotten it. And now she wanted him.

She could have him.

“I’m overwhelmed.” His voice was still rough, but he was sure now what he meant to say. “I can’t get enough of looking at you. I’m overwhelmed that I’m going to have such a very beautiful wife.”

She closed her eyes. He watched her hand close into a fist on the roof of his Corvette, and then she spoke, although there was a note in her voice that didn’t quite sound like any note he’d heard from her before. “Do you think this Corvette could get us to the courthouse and back in forty-five minutes?”

At that, he laughed—and stepped back from her. “Don’t tempt me.”

She looked at him then, and damn near blushed—no, she did blush, heat reddening her cheeks on this cool February day. This senior army officer, with her overseas stripes on her sleeve and her chest full of ribbons and medals, was blushing.

She kept her chin up and her eyes on him. Not a blush; she was flushed. That note in her voice hadn’t sounded familiar because it held arousal, the anticipation of passion, and she’d never spoken to him that way in college. Everything in him tightened in response, but he was standing in his battalion’s parking lot.

“I looked it up, and the courthouse is open until five,” Juliet said, but despite any flush of desire, her tone had already changed. More practical, less passionate. “But they stop issuing marriage licenses at four thirty. We’d have to rush.”

“You’re serious.”

“There’s a three-day waiting period in Texas, but they’ll waive it because we’re active-duty military.”

The caveman part of him wanted to rush her into the car and take her to the nearest judge to claim her as his, permanently, but he was too experienced, too well trained by the army to do anything but think coolly when emotions were running hot. Something was off. “What about your son?”

Her jaw clenched. Her fist clenched. “He’s in a phase that can be... It might be just as easy to simply let Matthew know it’s a done deal.”

“You want to go to the courthouse with me and then pick up your son and introduce me as the man who just married his mother?”

“Yes.” She dropped her hand, relief written all over her face. “Do you think we have time?”

“Juliet, that’s insane.”

“All of this is insane. I already said so in your office.” She laughed.

He didn’t. She’d forced that laugh.

It was her turn to check her watch. “If we took my car instead, we could go from the courthouse straight to the school. As long as there isn’t a line at the county clerk’s office, there might be enough time that way.”

It was his turn to frown. He’d bet she had no idea how anxious she sounded. “It’s been a long time since I was eleven, but I don’t think I would have been too happy to be left out like that. You wanted me to meet him first. What changed while we walked from my office to my parking lot?”

She dropped her too-determined smile. “There’s a chance that when you meet Matthew, you’ll change your mind.”

Not a chance. “I already told you kids don’t scare me.”

“Mine might. He was wonderful this morning, pinning on my rank. I just never know from day to day if I’ll get the wonderful Matthew or...or not.” Her frown was genuine, her next declaration emphatic. “It’s just a phase.”

“Are we talking about a phase like he’s gotten into drugs or he’s been sucked into a gang?”

“No, nothing like that. That was a very military police kind of thing to ask, by the way.”

“It happens.” Eleven years old. What had it felt like to be eleven years old?

“He can just be so difficult. Deliberately contrary.” Juliet ducked her chin a bit and peeked up at him from under the brim of her hat. “He’s been hard to live with, admittedly, but I’m certain it’s just a—”

“A phase. I got that. So, we’re talking about a kid whose dad doesn’t come to see him and who got sent to live at a new post by the US Army. He’s been living at the Holiday Inn for two weeks, and he had to change schools in the middle of the year. That kind of phase?”

She stilled, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. A very beautiful deer with golden glints in her brown eyes, which he let himself remember for the first time in years how much he’d always admired. He’d noticed it one day in their junior year, when he’d made fun of her safety goggles in a chemistry lab. He’d never told her that he saw gold in her eyes.

“Are you sure you’re not a parent?” she asked.

“You don’t have to be a parent to realize that’s a lot on a kid’s plate. This is a bad idea. I don’t want to make things harder for him.” He opened the car door to get his sunglasses.

“You’d like him if you met him.” She blurted out the words.

He snapped his attention back to those golden-brown eyes. The way she’d taken a step closer, the way her hands almost reached to stop him—did she think he was going to get in the Corvette and drive off without her? Was she afraid he’d drive off without her?

It was hard to imagine Juliet Grayson afraid of anything. Evan grabbed his sunglasses, shut the car door and silently cursed the impossibility of having this conversation in his battalion parking lot. In uniform. He wished he could hold her, hug her against his chest until some of the tension that was humming through her subsided.

“I think you would,” she said more quietly.

He could only reassure her with his words. “I’m sure I’ll like him. He’s your kid.”

“And Rob’s.”

“I know he is. I know Rob, and I know you were married to Rob. This isn’t news to me.” Evan felt a touch of relief that she wasn’t afraid to bring up potentially difficult subjects. That was the Juliet he knew.

“It doesn’t bother you?” she asked.

“No.” An incredible lie, but now was not the time to confess how jealousy had nearly eaten him alive. “That has nothing to do with anything. When I said it’s a bad idea, I meant it’s a bad idea to spring a marriage on any child as a done deal. We can get married when the courthouse opens on Monday as easily as today. Matthew and I can meet under a little less pressure. You and I can spend the weekend catching up.”

He wasn’t going to say they’d spend the weekend getting to know each other, because they knew each other. They’d always known one another. Time had passed, and they’d had separate experiences during that time, but nothing had changed them. He was still Evan. She was still Juliet.

“You have a roundtable scheduled for Monday,” she said. “I’ve only been at Fort Hood for two weeks. I can’t show up Monday morning and ask for the day off. I can’t ask for any day off next week.”

“Next Friday afternoon, then, so we’ll have the weekend afterward. I’ll wear my blues to work. We’ll go straight to the courthouse.”

She clasped her hands behind her back—had they been shaking like his?—but she didn’t nod or agree.

“Why today? Is there some legality I need to know about?” Evan tried to imagine what that could be. The army could be a minefield of legalities that affected soldiers’ lives. “Are your household goods going to be put into long-term storage if you don’t give them a delivery address today? Are your orders for Fort Hood going to be changed if you’re not married?”

“I hadn’t even thought of those things. Stop, or I’ll have even more to worry about.”

“Then why do you want to go to the judge right this minute?”

“Because you said...” The flush was back—no, a blush. This time, she looked embarrassed, not aroused. She turned away from him, just slightly, and fixed her gaze on the colorful sign in front of the building that was painted with the battalion’s crest. The green shield depicted a gold gauntlet in a fist, enforcing order.

“Because I said what?” He watched her face as she put her thoughts in order.

“I’ve been in the army too long. For a minute there, I thought the best course of action would be to exploit my advantage. Strike while the iron is hot. Allow you no time to regroup after my ambush. If I let you stop and think about it, you might choose to retreat.”

“Not a chance.” He said it out loud this time.

“There’s always a chance, but you should have that chance. And I shouldn’t assume everything is a battle.” She turned her face toward him once more. “Forget I tried to rush it. I’m sorry about that. Back to the original plan. You should meet my son first, before you decide anything.”

She was afraid he was going to change his mind and leave without her. Juliet: afraid. Incredible.

“I already decided. If a week could make any man change his mind, then you shouldn’t be with him anyway. You deserve better.” You know that—but he choked back the words, because her brown eyes suddenly glittered not with gold, but with unshed tears.

She tugged the brim of her hat down a half inch.

Time had passed. They’d had separate experiences, for certain, and hers had included a man who had changed his mind and broken a promise, hadn’t it? Rob Jones had been so much less than she deserved.

Evan shoved down the guilt. “Juliet, I won’t change my mind.”

“Twenty minutes ago, you didn’t know I was divorced. You didn’t know I was stationed at Fort Hood.”

A sergeant passed behind Juliet. Evan returned his salute without taking his attention off Juliet. He looked her squarely in the eye, unafraid, as sober and serious as he’d ever been about anything in his life. “You and I are getting married because we’ve had sixteen years to think about it, and neither one of us has changed our mind.”

They stared one another down for a moment.

The memories continued to bombard him, the times they’d gauged one another just like this, each holding their ground during debates over chemistry lab hypotheses or proper pizza toppings. In retrospect, he could see that their showdowns had been frequent but fearless, because they’d been so certain that their friendship wouldn’t be changed by championing opposing views. They’d opposed each other on lab reports and pepperoni just for the heck of it sometimes, because it was always invigorating, often fun, and it had made the rest of their friends either groan or place bets on which one of them would concede the point. Now here they were, debating how and when to get a marriage license. It felt natural.

Surrounded by the sights and sounds of his everyday life—the beige building, the battalion sign, the people in camouflage crossing the sidewalks—Evan was struck anew by the miracle of Juliet restored to his life, standing here, right before him, right in the middle of his ordinary world. He shook his head slowly and started to smile.

“Lieutenant Colonel Grayson, can we please get in your car and continue this conversation somewhere, anywhere, away from here? I can’t touch you or hug you or have any kind of normal interaction with a woman I’m so damned happy to see, because we’re standing outside my own headquarters.”

“You’re happy to see me?”

“Ecstatic.”

“You want to hug me?”

“You have no idea.”

“Hmm.” She pressed her lips together skeptically, another expression he knew so well. It tugged at his heart. He hadn’t thought about missing Juliet’s expressions. Now that he didn’t have to miss them any longer, each one was making him realize in how much denial he’d been all along.

She pulled out a car key from somewhere in the vicinity of her skirt waistband. “Being in a car isn’t going to make us invisible, but I’m parked over there.”

“Lead the way.”

But she didn’t move. “You made a valid point. It’s been sixteen years. Next Friday will work.”

“Yes, it will.”

But she didn’t smile. In fact, she’d barely smiled at all in the past twenty-something minutes. Juliet had always been smart and sharp and driven, but she’d also been joyful. He knew her expressions, and her smile had been the most frequent of them all. Even at the end of a deployment to Afghanistan, she’d smiled on that airfield. Had life dealt her so many negative experiences while they were apart that smiles were less frequent than skepticism? That talking about her current life required stoicism?

There’d been nothing stoic or skeptical in that kiss in his office.

She kissed like the Juliet he’d known, the woman who loved life. She’d been the ringleader, the friend who’d coaxed everyone else to go to new places, to taste new foods, even to wear crazy hats or face paint, just for fun.

He was a man who didn’t like surprises in general, but to realize Juliet had lost her joy in life was the least welcome surprise of all. Evan assigned himself a new mission in life: to bring a little fun back into hers.

A lot of fun.

Exploit the advantage. Strike while the iron is hot. Give her no chance to retreat.

“We have some time before school’s out. Let’s go to your hotel room and get you out of that uniform.”