Читать книгу Debbie Macomber Navy Series Box Set: Navy Wife / Navy Blues / Navy Brat / Navy Woman / Navy Baby / Navy Husband - Debbie Macomber - Страница 25

Five

It took courage for Carol to drive to Steve’s apartment. Someone should award medals for this brand of lionheartedness, she murmured to herself—although she was more interested in playing the role of a tigress than a lion. If this second venture was anything like the first, Steve wouldn’t know what hit him. At least, she hoped he wouldn’t guess.

She straightened her shoulders, pinched some color into her cheeks and pasted on a smile. Then she rang the doorbell.

To say Steve looked surprised to see her when he opened the door would be an understatement, Carol acknowledged. His eyes rounded, his mouth relaxed and fell open, and for a moment he was utterly speechless. “Carol?”

“I suppose I should have phoned first …”

“No, come in.” He stepped aside so that she could enter the apartment.

Beyond his obvious astonishment, Carol found it difficult to read Steve’s reaction. She stepped inside gingerly, praying that her plastic smile wouldn’t crack. The first thing she noticed was the large picture window in the living room, offering an unobstructed view of the Seattle waterfront. It made Elliott Bay seem close, so vivid that she could almost smell the seaweed and feel the salty spray in the air. A large green-and-white ferry boat plowed its way through the dark waters, enhancing the picture.

“Oh … this is nice.” Carol turned around to face him. “Have you lived here long?”

He nodded. “Rush had the apartment first. I moved in after you and I split and sort of inherited it when Rush and Lindy moved into their own place recently.”

The last thing Carol wanted to remind him of was their divorce, and she quickly steered the conversation to the reason for her visit. “I found something I thought might be yours,” she said hurriedly, fumbling with the snap of her eel-skin purse to bring out the button. It was a weak excuse, but she was desperate. Retrieving the small gray button from inside her coin purse, she handed it over to him.

Steve’s brow pleated into a frown and he stiffened. “No … this isn’t mine. It must belong to another man,” he said coldly.

A bad move, Carol realized, taking back the button. “There’s only been one man at my house, and that’s you,” she said, trying to stay calm. “If it isn’t yours, then it must have fallen off something of my own.”

Hands in his pockets, Steve nodded.

An uneasy pause followed.

Steve didn’t suggest she take off her coat, didn’t offer her any refreshment or any excuse to linger. Feeling crestfallen and defeated, Carol knew there was nothing more to do but leave.

“Well, I suppose I should think about getting myself some dinner. There’s a new Mexican restaurant close to here I thought I might try,” she said with feigned enthusiasm, and glanced up at him through thick lashes. Steve loved enchiladas, and she prayed he would take the bait. God knew, she couldn’t have been any more obvious had she issued the invitation straight out.

“I ate earlier,” he announced starkly.

Steve rarely had dinner before six. He was either wise to her ways or lying.

“I see.” She took a step toward the exit, wondering what else she could do to delay the inevitable. “When does the Atlantis leave?”

“Monday.”

Three days. She had only three days to carry out her plan. Three days to get him into bed and convince him it was all his idea. Three miserable days. Her fingers curled into impotent fists of frustration inside her coat pocket.

“Have a safe trip, Steve,” she said softly. “I’ll … I’ll be thinking of you.”

It had been a mistake to come to his place, a mistake not to have plotted the evening more carefully. It was apparent from the stiff way Steve treated her, he couldn’t wait to get her out of his apartment. Since it was Friday night, he might have a date. The thought of Steve with another woman produced a gut-wrenching pain that she did her best to ignore. Dropping by unexpectedly like this wasn’t helping her cause.

She’d hoped they could make love tonight. Her temperature was elevated and she was as fertile as she was going to get this month.

Swallowing her considerable pride, she paused, her hand on the door handle. “There’s a new spy thriller showing at the Fifth Avenue Theater…. You always used to like espionage films.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. It was difficult for Carol to meet his heated gaze and not wilt from sheer nerves. She was sure her cheeks were hot pink. Coming to his apartment was the most difficult thing she’d done in years. Her heart felt as if it was going to hammer its way right out of her chest, and her fingers were shaking so badly that she didn’t dare remove them from her pockets.

“Why are you here?” His question was soft, suspicious, uncertain.

“I found the button.” One glance told her he didn’t believe her, as well he shouldn’t. That excuse was so weak it wouldn’t carry feathers.

“What is it you really want, Carol?”

“I … I …” Her voice trembled from her lips, and her heart, which had been pounding so furiously a second before, seemed to stop completely. She swallowed and forced her gaze to meet his before dropping it. When she finally managed to speak, her voice was low and meaningful. “I thought with you going away….” Good grief, woman, her mind shouted, quit playing games. Give him the truth.

She raised her chin, and her gaze locked with his. “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Steve went stock-still, holding his jaw tight and hard. The inner conflict that played over his face was as vivid as the picturesque scene she’d viewed from his living-room window. The few feet of distance between them seemed to stretch wider than a mile.

It felt as if an eternity passed as Carol waited for his reaction, and she felt paralyzed with misgivings. She’d exposed her hand and left her pride completely vulnerable to him.

She saw it then—a flicker of his eyes, a movement in the line of his jaw, a softening in his tightly controlled facial features. He wanted her, too—wanted her with a desperation that made him as weak as she was. Her heart leaped wildly with joy.

Steve lifted his hand and held it out to her, and Carol thought she would collapse with relief as she hurried toward him. He crushed her in his arms and his mouth hungrily came down on hers. His eager lips smothered her cry of happiness. Equally greedy, Carol returned his kiss, reveling in his embrace. She twined her arms around his neck, her softness melding against the hardened contours of his body.

His hands tightened around her possessively, stroking her spine, then lowered over the rounded firmness of her buttocks. He gathered her pelvis as close to him as was humanly possible.

“Dear God, I’ve gone crazy.”

Carol raised her hands to frame his face and gazed lovingly into his eyes. “Me, too,” she whispered before spreading a circle of light kisses over his forehead, chin and mouth.

“I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Yes, you should.”

Steve groaned and clasped her tighter. He kissed her, plunging his tongue into the sweet softness of her mouth, exploring it with a desperate urgency. Carol met his tongue with her own in a silent duel that left them both exhausted.

While they were still kissing, Steve unfastened the buttons of her coat, slipped it from her shoulders and dropped it to the floor. His hands clawed at the back of her skirt, lifting it away from her legs, then settled once again, cupping her bare bottom.

He moaned, his breath seemed to jam in his throat, and his eyes darkened with passion. “You weren’t kidding.”

Carol bit her lower lip as a wealth of sensation fired through her from the touch of his cool hands against her heated flesh. She rotated her lower body shamelessly against the rigid evidence of his desire.

His hands closed over her breasts and her nipples rose as though to greet him, to welcome him. His eager but uncooperative fingers fiddled with the fastenings of her blouse. Smiling, content but just as eager, Carol gently brushed his hands aside and completed the task for him. He pulled the silk material free of her waistline and disposed of it as effectively as he had her coat. Her breasts sprang to life in his hands and when he moaned, the sound of it excited her so much that it throbbed in her ears.

The moist heat of his mouth closed over her nipple and she gasped. The exquisite pleasure nearly caused her knees to buckle. Blood roared through her veins, and liquid fire scorched her until she was certain she would soon explode. She lifted one leg and wrapped it around his thigh, anchoring her weight against him.

Steve’s fingers reached for her and instinctively she opened herself to him. He teased her womanhood, toyed with her, tormented her with delicate strokes that drove her over the brink. Within seconds, she tossed back her head and groaned as the pulsating climax rocked through her, sending out rippling waves of release.

By the time Steve carried her into his bedroom, Carol was panting. He didn’t waste any time, discarding his clothes with an urgency that thrilled her. When he moved to the bed, his features were keen with desire.

Carol lifted her arms to welcome him, loving him with a tenderness that came from the very marrow of her bones.

Steve shifted his weight over her and captured her mouth in a consuming kiss that sent Carol down into a whirlpool of the sweetest oblivion. Anxious and eager, she parted her thighs for him and couldn’t hold back a small cry as he sheathed himself inside her, slipping the proud heat of his manhood into her moist softness.

He waited, as though to prolong the pleasure and soak in her love before he started to move. The feelings that wrapped themselves around her were so incredible that Carol had to struggle to hold back the tears. With each delicious stroke the tension mounted and slowly, methodically began to uncurl within her until she was thrashing her head against his pillow and arching her hips to meet each plunging thrust.

Steve groaned and threw back his head, struggling to regain control, but soon he, too, was over the edge. When he cried out his voice harmonized with hers in a song that was as ageless as mankind.

Breathless, he collapsed on top of her. Her arms slipped around his neck and she buried her face in the hollow of his throat, kissing him, hugging him, needing him desperately. Tears slipped silently from the corners of her eyes. They spoke the words that she couldn’t, eloquently telling him of all the love buried in her heart—words Carol feared she would never be able to voice again.

When Steve moved to lift himself off of her, she wouldn’t let him. She held him tightly, her fingers gripping his shoulders.

“I’m too heavy,” he protested.

“No … hold me.”

With his arms wrapped around her, he rolled over, carrying her with him in one continuous motion until their positions were reversed.

Content for the moment, Carol pressed her ear over his chest, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart.

Neither spoke.

His hand moved up and down her spine in a tender caress as though he had to keep touching her to know she was real. Her tears slid onto his shoulder, but neither mentioned it.

In her soul, Carol had to believe that something this beautiful would create a child. At this moment everything seemed perfect and healed between them, the way it had been two years before.

Gently Steve kissed her forehead, and she snuggled closer, flattening her hands over his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her and his thumb tenderly wiped the moisture from her cheek. Tucking his finger under her chin, he lifted it enough to find her mouth and kiss her. Sweetly.

“I tried, but I never could stop loving you,” he whispered in a voice raw with emotion. “I hated myself for being so weak, but I don’t anymore.”

“I’ll always love you,” she answered. “I can’t help myself. This year has been the worst of my entire life. I’ve felt as if I was trapped in a freezer, never able to get warm.”

“No more,” he said, his eyes trapping hers.

“No more,” she agreed, and her heart leaped with unleashed joy.

They rested for a full hour, their legs entwined, their arms wrapped around each other. Every now and again, Steve would kiss her, his lips playing over hers. Then Carol would kiss him back, darting her tongue in and out of his mouth and doing all the things she knew he enjoyed. She raised herself up on her elbows and brushed a thick swatch of dark hair from his brow. It felt so good to be able to touch him this freely.

“What’s the name of that Mexican restaurant you mentioned earlier?” Steve asked.

Carol smiled smugly. “You are so predictable.”

“How’s that?”

“Making love never fails to make you hungry!”

“True,” he growled into her ear, “but often my appetite isn’t for food.” His index finger circled her nipple, teasing it to a rose-colored pebble. “I’ve got a year’s worth of loving stored up for you, and the way you make me feel tonight, we may never leave this bedroom.”

And they didn’t.

Carol woke when Steve pressed a soft kiss on her lips.

“Hmm,” she said, not opening her eyes. She smiled up at him, sated and unbelievably happy. She wore the look of a woman who loves wisely and who knows that her love is returned. “Is it morning yet?”

“It was morning the last time we made love.” Steve laughed and leaned over to kiss her again, as if one sample wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy him.

“It was?” she asked lazily. They’d slept intermittently, waking every few hours, holding and kissing each other. While asleep, Carol would roll over and forget Steve was at her side. Their discovery each time was worth far more than a few semiprecious hours of sleep. And Steve seemed equally excited about her being there with him.

“Currently,” he said, dragging her back to reality, “it’s going on noon.”

“Noon!” She bolted upright. She’d been in her teens the last time she’d slept this late.

“I’m sorry to wake you, honey, but I’ve got to get to the sub.”

Carol was surprised to see that he was dressed and prepared to leave. He handed her a fresh cup of coffee, which she readily took from him. “You’ll be back, won’t you?”

“Not until tomorrow morning.”

“Will you … could you stop off and see me one more time, before you leave?”

His dark gaze caressed her. “Honest to God, Carol, I don’t think I could stay away.”

* * *

As Steve walked away from his parked car at the Navy base in Bangor, less than ten miles north of Bremerton, he was convinced his strut would put a rooster to shame. Lord, he felt good.

Carol had come to him, wanted him, loved him as much as he’d always loved and wanted her. All the world felt good to him.

For the first time since they’d divorced, he felt whole. He’d been a crazed fool to harp on the subject of Todd Larson to Carol. From this moment on, he vowed never to mention the other man’s name again. Obviously whatever had been between the two was over, and she hadn’t wanted Todd back. Okay, so she’d made a mistake. Lord knew, he’d committed his share, and a lot of them had to do with Carol. He’d been wrong to think he could flippantly cast her out of his life.

In his pain, he’d lashed out at her, acted like a heel, refused to have anything to do with her because of his foolish pride. But Carol had been woman enough to forgive him. He couldn’t do anything less than be man enough to forget the past. The love they shared was too precious to muddy with doubts. They’d both made mistakes, and the time had come to rectify those and learn from them.

Dear God, he felt ready to soar. He shouldn’t be on a nuclear submarine—a feeling this good was meant for rockets.

* * *

Carol found herself humming as she whipped the cream into a frothy topping for Steve’s favorite dessert: French pudding. She licked her index finger, grinned lazily to herself and leaned her hip against the kitchen counter, feeling happier than she could remember being in a long time.

Friday night had been incredible. Steve had been incredible. The only cost had been her bruised pride when she’d arrived at his apartment with such a flimsy excuse. The price had been minor, the rewards major.

Not once during the entire evening had Steve mentioned Todd’s name. Maybe, just maybe, he was ready to put that all behind them now.

If she was pregnant from their Friday night lovemaking, which she sincerely prayed she was, it would be best for the baby to know “her” father. Originally Carol had intended to raise the child without Steve. She wasn’t sure she would ever have told him. Now the thought of suppressing the information seemed both childish and petty. But she wasn’t going to use the baby as a convenient excuse for a reconciliation. They would settle matters first—then she would tell him.

Steve would make a good father; she’d watched him around children and had often been amazed by his patience. He’d wanted a family almost from the first. Carol had been the one who’d insisted on waiting, afraid she wouldn’t be able to manage her job, a home and a baby with her husband away so much of the time, although she’d never admitted it to Steve. She knew how important it was for him to believe in her strength and independence. But this past year had matured her. Now she was ready for the responsibility.

Naturally hindsight was twenty-twenty, and she regretted having put off Steve’s desire to start a family. The roots of their marriage might have been strong enough to withstand what had happened if there’d been children binding them together. But it did no good to second-guess fate.

Children. Carol hadn’t dared think beyond one baby. But if she and Steve were to get back together—something that was beginning to look like a distinct possibility—then they could plan on having a houseful of kids!

* * *

It was early afternoon by the time Steve made it to Carol’s house. A cold wind from the north whistled through the tops of the trees and the sky was darkening with a brewing storm.

Carol tossed aside her knitting and flew across the room the minute she heard a car door close, knowing it had to be Steve. By the time he was to the porch, she had the front door open for him.

He wore his uniform, which told her he hadn’t stopped off at his apartment to change. Obviously he was eager to see her again, Carol thought, immeasurably pleased.

“I’m glad to see you’re waiting for me,” he said, and his words formed a soft fog around his mouth. He took the steps two at a time and rubbed his bare hands together.

“I can’t believe how cold it is.” Carol pulled him inside the house and closed the door.

His gaze sought hers. “Warm me, then.”

She didn’t require a second invitation, and stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him, leaning her weight into his. Steve wrapped her in his embrace, kissing her back greedily, as if they had been apart six weeks instead of a single day. When he finished, they were both breathless.

“It feels like you missed me.”

“I did,” she assured him. “Give me your coat and I’ll hang it up for you.”

He gave her the thick wool jacket and strolled into the living room. “What’s this?” he asked, looking at her knitting.

Carol’s heart leaped to her throat. “A baby blanket.”

“For who?”

“A … friend.” She considered herself a friend, so that was at least a half-truth. She’d been working on the blanket in her spare time since before Christmas. It had helped her feel as if she was doing something constructive toward her goal.

Suddenly she felt as if she had a million things to tell him. “I got energetic and cleaned house. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately, but I don’t have the energy I used to have.”

“Have you been sick?”

She loved him for the concern in his voice. “No, I’m in perfect health … I’ve just been tired lately … not getting enough vitamins, I suppose. But it doesn’t matter now because I feel fantastic, full of ambition—I even made you French pudding.”

“Carol, I think you should see a doctor.”

“And if he advises bed rest, do you promise to, er … rest with me?”

“Good heavens, woman, you’ve become insatiable.”

“I know.” She laughed and slipped her arm around his waist. “I was always that way around you.”

“Always?” he teased. “I don’t seem to recall that.”

“Then I’ll just have to remind you.” She steered him toward the bedroom, crawled onto the mattress and knelt there. “If you want French pudding, fellow, you’re going to have to work for it.”

* * *

The alarm went off at six. Carol blindly reached out and, after a couple of wide swipes, managed to hit the switch that would turn off the electronic beeping.

Steve stirred at her side. “It’s time,” she said in a small, sad voice. This would be their last morning together for three months.

“It’s six already?” Steve moaned.

“I’m afraid so.”

He reached for her and brought her close to his side. His hand found hers and he laced her fingers with his. “Carol, listen, we only have a little time left and there’s so much I should have said, so much I wanted to tell you.”

“I wanted to talk to you, too.” In all the years they were married, no parting had been less welcome. Carol yearned to wrap her arms around him and beg him not to leave her. It was times like this that she wished Steve had chosen a career outside the Navy. In a few hours he would sail out of Hood Canal, and she wouldn’t hear from him for the entire length of his deployment. Other than hearsay, Carol wasn’t even to know where he would be sailing. For reasons of national security, all submarine deployments were regarded as top secret.

“When I return from this tour, Carol, I’d like us to have a serious talk about getting back together. I know I’ve been a jerk, and you deserve someone better, but I’d like you to think about it while I’m away. Will you do that for me?”

She couldn’t believe how close she was to breaking into tears. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll think about it very seriously. I want everything to be right … the second time.”

“I do, too.” He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Another thing … make an appointment for a physical. I don’t remember you being this thin.”

“I lost fifteen pounds when we were divorced; I can’t seem to gain it back.” The tears broke through the surface and she sobbed out the words, ending in a hiccup. Embarrassed, she pressed her fingertips over her lips. “I’ve been a wreck without you, Steve Kyle … I suppose it makes you happy to know how miserable and lonely this past year has been.”

“I was just as miserable and lonely,” he admitted. “We can’t allow anything to do this to us again. I love you too damn much to spend another year like the last one.” His touch was so tender, so loving that she melted into his embrace.

“You have to trust me, Steve. I can’t have you coming back and even suspecting I’d see another man.”

“I know … I do trust you.”

She closed her eyes at the relief his words gave her. “Thank you for that.”

He kissed her then and, with a reluctance that tore at her heart, pulled away from her and started to dress.

She reached for her robe, not looking at him as she slipped her arms into the long sleeves. “If we do decide to make another go at marriage, I’d like to seriously think about starting a family right away. What would you say to that?”

Steve hesitated. Carol turned around to search out his gaze in the stirring light of early morning, and the tender look he wore melted any lingering doubts she harbored.

“Just picturing you with my child in your arms,” he whispered hoarsely, “is enough to keep me going for the next three months.”