Читать книгу Debbie Macomber Navy Series Box Set: Navy Wife / Navy Blues / Navy Brat / Navy Woman / Navy Baby / Navy Husband - Debbie Macomber - Страница 7
ОглавлениеSo Rush Callaghan was kicking her out of the apartment, Lindy mused. Terrific. What else could go wrong? The answer to that was something she didn’t want to find out. Oh Lord. She’d known Steve’s invitation was too good to be true. Nothing was ever going to be right for her again—she’d been sabotaged by fate while still in her prime….
A quick calculation of her limited funds suggested that she could possibly last two weeks if she rented a cheap hotel room and ate sparingly. Two weeks and she’d be forced to return to Minneapolis a failure. The thought wasn’t a comforting one. Her parents would gladly take her in, but their excessive concern right now was more suffocating than she could bear.
With deliberate calm Lindy drank the last of her milk, carried the glass to the sink and rinsed it out. All the while her thoughts were a churning mass of wary doubts.
She would leave, she decided, because Rush Callaghan had decreed that she must. But she could see no reason to hurry. Simply because he was an officer used to giving orders and having them followed didn’t mean she had to jump at his every command.
“Did you hear me?” Rush asked, his narrowed gaze following her deliberate movements.
“I’ll be out before morning,” was the only answer she would give him, and she forced those words to come out as stiffly as starched sheets.
It gave Lindy fleeting satisfaction to witness the surprise in Rush’s eyes. He stared at her almost as if he’d been looking forward to an argument, to sharpening his wits on hers. Apparently he’d thought she would stand up and issue some kind of challenge. Well, Lindy just wasn’t in the mood to put up much of a fight. If he wanted her out, then fine, she’d pack her bags and leave.
Wordlessly she opened the dishwasher and set the glass inside. His eyes followed her suspiciously, apparently disliking her cool compliance. For the first time he looked unsettled, as though it was on the tip of his tongue to suggest that she could stay until morning. But if the thought crossed his mind, that was as far as it went. He said nothing. Lindy supposed he was right. She could see no reason to prolong the inevitable. But damn it all, she’d never felt so helpless and lost in her life. A condemned man walking to the hangman’s noose had as many options as she seemed to have at the moment.
Lindy turned and left the kitchen. She tried to walk away proudly, but her shoulders sagged with abject defeat. She heard the kitchen chair scrape against the floor as Rush stood and followed her.
Standing in the doorway to her bedroom, Rush glanced at his watch. Lindy pulled out her suitcase from under the bed and looked in the direction of her clock radio, noting the late hour.
As though it went against his better judgment, Rush stuck his hand in his uniform pocket and murmured. “Listen, tomorrow morning is soon enough.”
“Not for me, it isn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind,” Lindy said with a righteous sigh.
“Lord, how like a woman,” Rush murmured to the ceiling, the words tight and controlled. “She tosses a dart at me and then refuses to acknowledge it. What she really wants me to know is that she couldn’t bear to be in the same room with me. Well, honeybunch, the feeling is mutual!”
Some of Lindy’s control slipped at his taunt, and she angrily jerked a blouse off a hanger. “I don’t suppose you stopped to think that I didn’t move in here without an invitation. Steve invited me. I have his letter right here to prove it if you’d take the time to read—”
“Unfortunately Steve didn’t clear this cozy little arrangement with me,” he interrupted, “and I have no intention of sharing this place with you or any other female.”
“You men think you’re really something, don’t you?” Lindy cried, jerking yet another blouse from a hanger. “You like being in control, dictating whatever you wish on nothing more than a whim.”
He looked surprised that she’d revealed any emotion. Good heavens, just what did he expect from her? Lindy didn’t know, and at this point she simply didn’t care. When she’d finished emptying her closet, she whirled around to face him.
“All along Steve’s been telling me what a great friend you are, a terrific guy. You should meet him, Lindy. I know you’d like him,” she said sarcastically, mimicking her brother’s praise. She cast Rush a disparaging look. “Some roommate you turned out to be. I’ll tell you one thing, mister…”
“Spare me, would you?”
“No.” Lindy slammed the lid of her suitcase closed. “You’re all alike. Every last one of you is just like Paul.”
“Paul?”
Her index finger flew at his chest and she heaved back in indignation. “Don’t you dare mention his name to me. Ever!”
“Lady, you brought him up, I didn’t!”
“That was a mistake. But then I seem to be making a lot of those lately.”
“Your biggest one was moving in here.”
“Tell me about it,” she returned with a sneer. “Well, you needn’t worry. I’ll be out of your way in a few minutes.” She yanked the suitcase off the bed and reached for her coat, preparing to leave. Boldly she paused and raised her eyes to meet his. With her lips curved upward, she regarded him with open disdain. “Steve is really going to be upset about this.”
“I’ll deal with him later.” The look he was giving her said that if anyone had a right to be angry, it was him. As though Steve had been the one to let him down.
With a carefully manufactured calm, Lindy stopped at the front door, set down her suitcase and slipped the key to the apartment off her chain.
Rush held out his hand and she pressed it into his waiting palm. Once again he looked as if he wanted to say that she could stay until morning. She didn’t know what stopped him—probably his pride. Men had to have their pride. No doubt he was aware that she’d take delight in throwing the invitation back in his face.
Lindy watched as Rush’s dark eyes narrowed, then she sadly shook her head. For years she’d been hearing Rush’s name exalted. According to Steve, Rush Callaghan was both an officer and a gentleman. In the space of fifteen minutes, Lindy had quickly discovered he was neither.
“Bad judgment must run in the family,” she said, more for her own ears than his. “If Steve thinks you’re so wonderful, then my mistake about Paul seems like a minor miscalculation of character.” With that she picked up her lone suitcase and pulled open the front door.
Rush’s hand reached out and gripped her shoulder, stopping her. “Family? What exactly do you mean by that?”
“Steve Kyle, my brother. You know, the man who pays half the rent for this place? The one who wrote and claimed I was welcome to live here until I found a job?”
His fingers closed painfully over her shoulder and his eyes simmered with impatient anger. “Why the hell didn’t you say you were Steve’s sister?” He reached for her suitcase, stripped it from her hands and jerked her back inside the apartment. Rush slammed the door shut after her and studied her as though seeing her for the first time.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know!” she shouted back. “Just who the hell did you think I was?” The answer to that was all too obvious and a heated flash of bright color invaded her neck and cheeks. “Oh, honestly, that’s…disgusting.”
Rush raked his fingers through his hair in an agitated movement and walked a few steps past her before turning around to confront her once more. “Listen, I didn’t know. Honest.”
“Does this mean I’m welcome to spend the night in my own brother’s apartment?”
He let that taunt pass. “Yes, of course.”
“How generous of you.”
Rush picked up the suitcase and carried it back into Steve’s bedroom, his jerky movements revealing both his chagrin and his anger. Lindy followed him, no longer sure what to make of this man. She knew Steve’s invitation had been a spur of the moment thing. The two men easily could have gotten their wires crossed. From experience Lindy knew how letters could get held up in the military, and it was likely that Rush hadn’t known she was planning on moving in. Still that didn’t excuse his arrogant attitude toward her.
Lindy was two steps behind the man who Steve claimed was his best friend. Rush set the suitcase back on top of the mattress and hesitated before turning around to face her once more.
“I apologize. Okay?”
She answered him with an abrupt nod. His apology was followed by a short, uneasy silence. Lindy didn’t know what to say. After a tense moment, she murmured. “I think the entire incident is best forgotten.”
“Good.” Rush buried his hands in his pockets, looking as uncomfortable as Lindy felt. “Of course you’re welcome to stay in the apartment as long as you like. I’m hoping to be out of here by the end of the week.”
“I thought you’d already left. I mean…”
Apparently he knew what she meant. “I had, but there were some mechanical difficulties and the Mitchell is back in the shipyard for repairs.”
“For a week?” After nearly drowning in love and concern from her parents, Lindy had been looking forward to living alone. Well, so much for that—at least for now.
“Possibly longer, but don’t worry about it. You’re welcome to stay,” Rush murmured, still looking uncomfortable.
Lindy guessed that he didn’t often make apologies. “Thanks, but I have no intention of burdening you any longer than necessary. As soon as I’ve found a job, I’ll be on my way.”
“’Night,” Rush said abruptly, taking a step in retreat.
“Good night,” Lindy returned with a weak, dispirited smile.
Rush walked out of the room and Lindy closed it in his wake and leaned against the frame. Her mind was whirling. She knew even before she climbed between the sheets that she wasn’t likely to sleep any time soon. Rest, like contentment, had been a fleeting commodity these past few weeks.
* * *
Rush smelled fresh coffee when he woke the next morning. With some reluctance, he climbed out of bed and dressed. He’d made a heel of himself and he wasn’t eager to face Steve’s sister with his head throbbing and his mouth tasting like something floating in a skid-row gutter. After he’d left Lindy the night before, he’d tried to sleep, given up an hour later and gone back to drink the rest of the sixpack of beer and watch television. Now he was suffering the consequences of his folly.
He sat for a moment on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. For years he’d heard stories about his friend’s younger sister. How intelligent she was, how clever, how pretty. Steve was more than fond of his sister. He adored her and now Rush had gone and insulted her, and in the process maligned his best friend. He should have realized that Steve wasn’t fool enough to set a woman up in their apartment. Hell, Steve was still so much in love with his ex-wife that he couldn’t see straight.
Damn it all, Rush mused, irritated with himself. He shouldn’t have downed those first two beers. If his head had been clearer, he might have recognized her name.
Rush frowned. He vaguely recalled Steve telling him about some fancy job with a large insurance company that was supposed to be waiting for Lindy once she graduated from college. Come to think of it, he thought Steve had said she was engaged to be married this summer, as well. He wondered what she was doing in Seattle, but after their poor beginning he wasn’t about to drill her about her job or problems with her fiancé.
* * *
Lindy sat at the kitchen table with the morning newspaper spread out in front of her. She chose to ignore Rush. As far as she was concerned the man had all the sensitivity of a woman-hating Neanderthal. Okay, so they were going to be sharing the apartment for a while. A week, he’d said. She could last that long if he could.
Rush walked over to the coffeepot, poured himself a cup, then muttered something that sounded faintly like a growl. Lindy supposed that was his own prehistoric version of “good morning.” She responded in kind.
“What was that?” he demanded.
“What?”
“That disgusting little noise you just made.”
“I was just wishing you a good morning.”
“I’ll bet,” he muttered, lifting the steaming mug to his lips. He took a sip, then grimaced as if he’d scalded his tongue. He paused to glare at Lindy as though to blame her for his troubles.
Swallowing a chuckle, Lindy stood, deposited her coffee cup in the kitchen sink and left the table, taking the morning paper with her. It wasn’t until she was in her bedroom that she realized she was smiling—something she hadn’t felt like doing in a long while. Maybe having a man around to thwart and frustrate wasn’t such a bad idea. With few exceptions, she’d recently come to view the opposite sex as both demanding and unreasonable. Rush Callaghan certainly fit the mold.
Gathering her clothes and a few personal items, Lindy headed for the bathroom. She’d discarded her robe and had just leaned over the tub to start her bathwater, when Rush strolled in.
“Are you planning to—” He stopped abruptly, his jaw slack.
Reluctantly Lindy straightened, gripping the front of her gaping pajama top with one hand. Color mounted in her cheeks like a red flag rising as she realized that her bent position over the tub had probably granted Rush a bird’s-eye view of her rounded derriere. The flimsy baby-doll top no doubt gave him an equally revealing study of her breasts through the thin material. Incensed with herself as much as at Rush, she jerked a towel off the rack and wrapped it around her middle.
“Sorry,” he muttered and quickly moved out of the room. He stood just across the threshold, watching her as though he couldn’t jerk his gaze away. He swallowed hard once before stiffly stepping away.
Lindy walked over and purposefully closed the door. To be on the safe side she locked it.
“Just how long are you planning to be in there?” Rush shouted, apparently not feeling the necessity to disguise his bad mood.
Lindy reached for her Timex. She looked at the watch and gave herself fifteen minutes. “I’ll be out before eight.” She expected an argument, but if Rush had any objection he didn’t voice it.
Once Lindy was soaking in the hot bathwater, she found herself grinning once more. It was obvious that Rush Callaghan wasn’t accustomed to having a woman around. The thought pleased her, but it didn’t surprise her. The man was a grouch and dictatorial to boot, acting as though it were a woman’s duty to humbly submit to his every command. There weren’t many females who would be willing to put up with that kind of chauvinistic attitude. Lindy certainly wouldn’t.
Nor had she been oblivious to his admiring appraisal. Just the memory of his slow, hungry look was enough to lift her mood considerably. After Paul, it did her ego a world of good to realize another man found her appealing. Plenty of doubts had surfaced over the past few weeks regarding her feminine charms, and it gave Lindy a cozy feeling deep down to realize she possessed enough allure to tempt a man.
Now that she had time to think about it, Lindy admitted that Rush wasn’t so bad-looking himself in a fundamental sort of way. Until a woman recognized his condescending ways, Rush would undoubtedly fascinate her. He was well over six feet tall, with a muscled, whipcord leanness that spoke of discipline and control. His broad shoulders tapered to narrow hips and long legs. Without much effort, Lindy could picture him standing at attention in full-dress uniform, surveying all that was before him with an arrogant tilt of his square jaw. Lindy was surprised at the sudden strong charge of pleasure the thought gave her. Her mind conjured him standing tall and immovably proud, shoulders squared, gaze focused straight ahead. With the thought some of the pique she’d been feeling toward him vanished.
But what intrigued her most about Rush Callaghan, she decided, were his eyes. Although he hadn’t said more than a handful of words to her this morning, his dark blue gaze was highly expressive and more than able to telegraph his sour mood. She’d gained a good deal of pleasure in provoking him and then watching his brows crowd his eyes, narrowing them into slits of cool, assessing color. Later when he’d confronted her in the bathroom, those same clear blue eyes had revealed much more.
As her mind continued to play with the thoughts, Lindy scooted down into the hot water, raised a washcloth and idly drizzled the water over her smooth, flat stomach.
* * *
In the hallway outside the bathroom door, Rush paced like a stalking, caged tiger. He’d checked his watch every damn minute for the past five. Just how long did it take a woman to bathe, for God’s sake? Too damn long, for his tastes.
Finally accepting the fact that pacing wasn’t going to hurry her any, he retreated into his bedroom and sat on the edge of the mattress. In an effort to be honest with himself Rush admitted that it wasn’t the fact that Lindy was hogging the one facility in the apartment that irritated him so much. It was the tantalizing figure she’d presented to him when he’d inadvertently walked in on her.
Her firm young body had all but taken his breath away, and when he checked his hands he found he was still trembling with the effects of the brief encounter. He hadn’t a clue as to why she would wear that silly piece of lace. The silky see-through fabric didn’t hide a damn thing.
Like an innocent, he’d moved into the bathroom only to be confronted by the sweet curve of her buttocks and the milky white skin of her long, shapely legs. Rush could swear the woman’s legs went all the way up to her neck.
If that sight hadn’t been enough to hammer the breath from his lungs, having her turn around and confront him had. Her full pink breasts had darkened at the tips as she struggled to hold the front of her pajamas together. Not that her efforts had done much good. Her nipples had hardened and pointed straight at him as though begging to be kissed. Even now the image had the power to tighten his groin and make his breath come in harsh, uneven gulps.
A week. Oh Lord. He wondered if he could last that long. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. He hoped the Mitchell would be ready to sail by then because he didn’t know how much longer he could contain himself around Lindy. He knew he had to avoid a relationship with her at all costs. In addition to being his best friend’s sister, Lindy was hurting, Rush realized. Something had happened—he didn’t know what, didn’t need to know—but he’d recognized the heavy shadow of pain and grief that hung over her head like a dark thundercloud. Something had knocked her world off kilter. And Rush wasn’t in a position to right it. He wasn’t anyone’s savior. In the meantime, the best thing that could happen was for him to keep his eyes and ears to himself and pray the Mitchell left ahead of schedule.
* * *
Lindy found Rush was in the kitchen when she returned from job hunting late that afternoon. Her day had gone amazingly well and she felt greatly encouraged. After filling out dozens of forms and passing a series of tests, she was scheduled for an interview at the Boeing Renton plant for the following Monday. The salary was more than she’d hoped for and the benefits substantial. She held high hopes for the interview. Perhaps the worm had finally turned and her luck was going to change. She certainly hoped so. But in the meantime she felt obligated to keep job hunting in case something else turned up between now and then. Besides she didn’t relish lingering around the apartment, bumping into Rush everytime she turned around.
“Hi,” Lindy greeted Rush cheerfully, draping the strap of her purse over the back of the kitchen chair. She was in the mood to be generous with her reluctant roommate. After her fruitful day of job hunting, she was actually beginning to feel a little like her old self.
It was obvious, however, from the vicious way Rush was scrubbing away at the dishes that his earlier dark mood hadn’t improved.
He grumbled a reply, but didn’t turn around. “Listen, I’ve got a schedule posted outside the bathroom so there won’t be a recurrence of what happened this morning.”
A schedule for the bathroom? He had to be joking! “Okay,” she answered, having difficulty disguising her amusement. She opened the refrigerator and took out a cold can of soda, closed the door and momentarily leaned against it. It struck her then that she was hungry. She’d eaten lunch hours before, but with her limited funds she couldn’t afford a fancy restaurant meal and had opted, instead, for a fast-food chicken salad. She had started to search through the cupboards when Rush turned around and nearly collided with her
“Excuse me,” he said stiffly.
“No problem.” She pressed herself against the counter as he moved past.
From the way he skirted around her, one would think she was a carrier of bubonic plague.
Without another word, Rush wiped his hands dry, rehung the dish towel and moved into the living room to turn on the television.
Since he didn’t appear to be the least bit communicative, she wasn’t about to ask him if he’d eaten or if he was hungry. Far be it from her to appear anxious to share a meal with Rush when he obviously wanted to ignore her. They weren’t on a Sunday-school picnic here, they were merely polite strangers whose presence had been forced on each other.
Sorting through the cupboards, Lindy brought out spaghetti noodles and a bottle of spicy Italian sauce. After weeks of a skimpy appetite, it felt good to think about cooking something substantial.
The sausage was frying up nicely and the faint scent of fennel and sage wafted through the kitchen. Lindy brought out an onion and had begun dicing it to add to the meat when the knife slipped and neatly sliced into her index finger.
The sight of blood squirting over the cutting board shocked more than hurt her. She cried out in a moment of panic and rushed to the sink, holding her hand.
“Lindy, are you all right?”
She ignored the question. The cut hurt now. Badly. Closing her eyes, she held her finger under the running water.
“What happened?” Rush demanded, joining her at the sink.
“Nothing.” Already the stainless steel was splashed with blotches of blood.
“You cut yourself!”
He sounded angry, as though she’d purposely injured herself in a futile attempt to gain his sympathy. “Are you always this brilliant or is this show of intelligence for my benefit?” she asked through clenched teeth. He looked stunned for a minute as though he didn’t understand a word of what she was saying. “Any idiot could see I’ve cut myself,” she cried, her voice raised and laced with a healthy dose of fright.
“Let me take a look at it.”
She shook her head forcefully, wishing he’d go away so she could assess the damage herself. The terrible stinging had been replaced by an aching throb. She couldn’t keep herself from bouncing, as if the action would lessen the pain.
“Give me your hand,” he demanded, reaching for it.
“Stop shouting at me,” she yelled, and jerked away from him. “As far as I’m concerned this is all your fault.”
“My fault?” His expressive blue eyes widened.
“Any fool knows better than to keep sharp knives around.” Lindy knew she wasn’t making sense, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
“For God’s sake, stop hopping around and let me get a good look at it.”
Using his upper body, he trapped her against the counter. She really didn’t have any choice but to let him examine the cut. Biting unmercifully into her bottom lip, she unfolded her fist, while gripping her wrist tightly with her free hand.
His touch was surprisingly gentle and she watched as his brow folded together in a tight frown of concern.
“It doesn’t look like you’re going to need stitches.”
Lindy expelled a sigh of relief. With no health insurance, a simple call to the hospital emergency room would quickly deplete her limited funds. And although her parents were willing, Lindy didn’t want to ask them for money.
“Here.” With a tenderness she hadn’t expected from Rush, he reached for a clean towel and carefully wrapped it around her hand. “It looks like the bleeding has stopped. Wait here and I’ll get a bandage.”
It was all Lindy could do to nod. She felt incredibly silly now, placing the blame on him for having a sharp knife. He left her and returned a couple of minutes later with some gauze and tape.
“I didn’t mean what I said about this being your fault,” she told him, raising her eyes to meet his.
His eyes widened momentarily, and then a smile flickered in their blue depths. “I know,” was all he said.
Although she was willing to credit her loss of blood with the stunning effect of his smile, there was no discounting the way her heart and head reacted. The simple action left Lindy warmed in its afterglow long after her finger was bandaged.
* * *
Three days passed and Rush and Lindy became a little more comfortable with each other. There were still a few awkward moments, but Lindy discovered that they could at least sit across the table from each other and carry on a decent conversation without risking an argument.
Rush tended to stay out of her way—and she, his—but there were certain times of the day when meeting was inevitable. In the mornings when they were both hurrying to get ready to leave the apartment, for instance. Twice Rush had gone out in the evening, leaving abruptly without a word. Lindy hadn’t asked where he went and he didn’t volunteer the information, but Lindy had the impression that he was simply avoiding being at close quarters with her.
Since it seemed silly for them to cook separate meals, they’d reached an agreement that Lindy would prepare the meals and Rush would do the dishes.
Rush was sitting in the living room when Lindy let herself into the apartment on Friday afternoon. She tossed her purse aside and slumped down on the opposite end of the sofa away from him.
“Any luck?” he asked in a conversational way, watching her.
Lindy noted that he looked tired and frustrated. “No, but I’m hoping everything will come together at the interview on Monday.”
He stood, rammed his hands into his pockets and looked away from her, staring out the window. “I’m not exactly filled with good news myself.”
“Oh?” She studied him closely, wondering at his strange mood.
“Without going into a lot of detail,” he said, his voice tight, “the problem holding up the Mitchell isn’t going to be easily fixed.”
Lindy nodded and drew in a ragged breath, not sure what was coming next.
“It’s going to take as long as a month to have the parts flown in,” he continued.
“I see.” She straightened and brushed aside a crease in her blue skirt, her fingers lingering over the material. “I suppose this means you want me to leave then, doesn’t it?”
