Читать книгу Navy Orders - Geri Krotow - Страница 13

CHAPTER FIVE

RO GAPED AT her younger half sister, Krissy. Her shoulder-length hair was its regular dyed platinum blond, but had unusually long, dark roots. Krissy never let her roots show. Ro took in the rumpled hair, the circles under her baby-blue eyes, the complete lack of makeup. Krissy was dressed in a wrinkled sweatsuit and looked nothing like the fashion plate she usually resembled. And she was...heavier. Fuller.

Heavier? Krissy―who put the skinny in skinny jeans―heavier?

Upon further inspection she concluded that Krissy was plumper in one particular area.

“Did you have a boob job?”

“Great way to greet your only sister after you cut her out of your life for over a year. Nice going, Ro.”

“You’re my half sister. And you married my, oh, what was it? Yes, that’s it—my fiancé. While I was at war. No biggie.”

“It’s time to get over it, Ro. I’m pregnant and I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“Didn’t Mom tell you? I’m due in February.”

“So you’re...four months along? I haven’t spoken to Mom since Christmas, really.” She left out Mother’s Day—she’d had a very brief conversation with Delores then.

Anger-induced tears welled in her tired eyes. Of course Mom hadn’t told her. Why would she? In her usual meddling manner Mom probably thought she was protecting Krissy from Ro’s jealousy and disappointment that she wasn’t the pregnant one.

That she wasn’t the one married to Dick.

“Can I come in? I’m exhausted. I’ve flown all day and then the drive from Seattle was sooo long. Why can’t you live somewhere more civilized?”

Ro stepped back.

“You can come in, Krissy, but just for a minute.”

“You’re kidding, right? I don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m almost five months pregnant and my baby’s father is an ass. You’re all I have!”

She’d been there all of thirty seconds and already Ro’s forehead pounded.

“What about Mom? What about all your girlfriends? Why didn’t you just kick Dick out?”

Ro walked ahead of Krissy, toward the kitchen.

“I couldn’t kick Richard out. I didn’t really talk to him about this, you know.”

Ro stopped in front of the refrigerator and turned back to face Krissy.

“What are you saying, exactly, sis?”

Krissy played with Ro’s knitting-related refrigerator magnets. Ro put her hand on the fridge door.

“You didn’t tell him you were leaving?”

“I don’t owe him anything! He’s been staying at work late and when he comes home all he does is eat, sleep and then go right back to work!”

Ro sighed.

“Of course he does, Krissy. He’s a surgeon. His work is his life.”

Krissy wouldn’t make eye contact while she pouted. The sight of her spoiled, immature sister with a burgeoning pregnant belly made Ro’s blood boil. She’d been getting Krissy out of jams for far too long. After Krissy and Dick got married she’d promised herself she was free of Krissy’s neediness, Mom’s conniving and Dick’s constant demands—whenever he wasn’t in the O.R.

It had worked for almost a year and a half.

Almost.

“You can stay here until you get on a plane and go back to New Jersey. I’m not your safety net anymore, Krissy.”

“You have no idea what I’m going through! You’ve never had to worry about anyone but yourself.” Krissy’s eyes widened when she realized what she’d said.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, Ro. But you said it was a relief when Dick broke up with you.”

“What else was I supposed to say? You’d already married him!” Ro shook her head. “You’re right, it was a relief—to be free of that relationship. It wasn’t going anywhere. But that doesn’t erase the lying and deceit you and Mom pulled.”

“You hadn’t even seen him for over nine months!”

“I was at war, Krissy. You know, keeping the world safe so that people like you and Dick could find each other and fall in love.”

“Touché, sister.” Krissy pronounced it “touchy.”

Ro rubbed the back of her neck.

“Look, Krissy. I wasn’t expecting you. It’s the end of a very long week. I’m in the middle of a project at work that’s just begun and I won’t even be home this weekend. You need to catch a flight back to Newark. Now.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“You had money to get here. Surely you didn’t buy a one-way ticket?”

Ro was proud of herself. Not too long ago she would’ve paid for whatever Krissy asked for or needed. That all stopped when Krissy became Mrs. Richard Brewster.

“Well, not exactly. I bought a nonrefundable ticket but my return flight isn’t until next month.”

“Next month?” Heat crept up her neck and Ro was grateful she’d put the knitting needles away. If they were in her hands she didn’t know if she’d stab her sister or herself from sheer frustration.

Krissy had never grown up. Ever. And now she was going to be a mother. She was carrying Dick’s baby.

Dick and Ro had never planned on having kids. It would have been too difficult with both of their demanding careers. So why did seeing the evidence of Krissy’s baby make Ro want to go to her room, slam the door and knit an ugly sweater?

The doorbell jerked Ro out of her rumination.

She looked at the clock on the microwave.

“Crap.”

She strode to the front door and, for the second time in ten minutes, opened the door.

“Hey, Miles. I thought you were going to call.”

Ro stared at Miles and thought his face was too damned handsome for someone who’d had as long a Friday as she had.

“I did, but you didn’t pick up.” Belatedly, Ro realized she’d left her cell phone in her car. “I thought I’d stop by—you realize we only live two neighborhoods apart?”

“No, I didn’t know that. Come on in.”

“Who’s there, Roanna?”

Ro turned and looked over her shoulder as Miles stepped into her tiny front hall and Krissy poked her head around the corner from the kitchen.

“A work colleague.” She sighed. “Miles, this is Krissy. Krissy, Miles.”

“Hi! I’m Ro’s sister.” Krissy walked over to Miles as she held a dish towel in front of her belly and gave a flirty little wave with her free hand. Did she really think Miles wouldn’t see she was pregnant?

Why did it bother her if Krissy wanted to flirt with Miles, anyway?

“Krissy’s my half sister. She dropped in for a quick visit. Unfortunately, she’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

“Nice to meet you.” Miles smiled at Krissy, and the resulting stab of awareness in her midsection made Ro take notice. She’d never seen that nice a smile on Miles’s face before. God, was he flirting back with her pregnant half sister?

Wish it was you?

His gaze jolted her back from her unwelcome revelation.

“We need to go. It’s going to be a late night.” He held up his phone. “I got a text from Ross. This is a good time for us to head over to the house.”

“Who’s Ross?” Krissy inserted herself as though she were working the case with Miles.

“He’s our CSO, the wing’s number two guy.” Ro was not in the mood to explain the navy staff system to Krissy.

“Don’t worry about me here, Ro. I’ll be fine.” Krissy was only too cooperative when it suited her needs.

Ro gritted her teeth.

“I’m not worried about you, Krissy, not at all. You’re an adult, and I know you need the time to make sure your travel arrangements back to New Jersey are squared away for tomorrow.”

Krissy ignored her and kept her gaze on Miles.

“Is she always this serious at work, too, Miles? Ro’s never learned how to lighten up.”

“Ah, Ro is the consummate professional at work. I don’t really know how she is outside of work.” He offered Krissy a placid enough expression, but Ro saw the muscle twitch next to his mouth. He’d love to add that she wasn’t the most cooperative woman he’d ever known, she’d bet a skein of cashmere on it.

To his credit, Miles kept his trap shut. Ro reluctantly gave him more points.

“I’ve got what I need—let me get my backpack.” She squeezed past Krissy into the kitchen. Ro’s home was the perfect size for her but with Krissy and now Miles inside she found it claustrophobic.

The fact that Miles towered over her and was built like a rock didn’t help matters.

He’d barely fit in your sleigh bed.

No matter how professional she was, she couldn’t stop herself from being human.

She just hoped she’d keep her most human instincts under wraps.

When she felt the door latch behind her she let out a deep breath and went into the still night with Miles.

* * *

THE IMMEDIATE, PALPABLE quiet was rare for Whidbey Island. Since it was perched on the most northwestern corner of the continental United States, every weather formation that came in from the Pacific or down from the Artic passed over the island. Ro often imagined her cottage was at the very edge of the earth. The winds had a habit of being unforgiving and brutal to anything but the native fauna.

It was so quiet she could hear Miles’s breathing as they walked down her winding drive to the road where he’d parked.

His motorcycle.

“Where’s your truck?” She bit her lip. She’d have to go back to the garage and get her car—no way was she riding on that bike.

He sent her a mischievous smile. “Left it at home. Too many people know my truck. This way we’ll be more under the radar.”

“‘We’? I’m not getting on that. Besides, can you, uh, are you able to manage two people?”

“Two’s as easy as one, Ro. It’s my thighs that grip the seat, not my calves. And my prosthetic leg does what I need it to, even on a motorbike.” He eyed her with restrained patience in the still-light evening. Whidbey Island was so far up north that the sun stayed up until nine or so on a spring evening.

“I’ve had the bike outfitted to my specifications.” Of course he had. He was an amputee, not an invalid.

She put her palms to her shame-heated cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Miles. I’m not questioning your ability.”

“Yeah, you are, Roanna.”

“It’s not you, it’s me, really—I’m not the motorcycle type. Besides, isn’t there some navy regulation that prevents us from riding motorcycles?”

“The only reg that says anything about it is that we can’t drive recklessly. I don’t do that.” He cocked one eyebrow at her. “As for not being the bike ‘type,’ you may surprise yourself. You look like you’d adapt in no time.”

Shame turned to desire and inflamed her face, her throat, her stomach. Just the briefest flirtation with Miles set her on fire.

This investigation needed to get wrapped up fast or she risked breaking the one promise she’d made to herself and had always kept.

Never date a man in uniform, especially one you work with.

Unfortunately, the population of single men in Oak Harbor who weren’t on active duty greatly diminished her chances of finding someone to distract her from Miles.

And what will you do when you prove that no one tempts you as much as Miles does?

* * *

MILES KEPT HIS revelations to himself. The expression on Ro’s face when she spotted his bike had been priceless. She tried to be so tough and was quite the naval officer, but he was learning that she’d forgotten that it was okay to be a girl, too.

Girl, hell. More like a woman of amazing beauty. Her large, round breasts couldn’t be hidden in her khaki uniform blouse. The formfitting hoodie she had on tonight left even less to his imagination—in which he’d already held Ro’s breasts and—

He groaned.

“What’s wrong?”

Shit. He thought his sexual frustration had been silent.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” He flipped up the top of the storage box and pulled out a helmet, which he handed to her.

“Put this on and make sure the strap is snug, like a flight helmet.”

“I’m not—”

“You already told me. Frankly, Ro, I’ve never seen you as a pussy. Don’t start now.”

Anger threw sparks out of her irises that almost made him laugh. But her anger wasn’t the passion he really wanted to spark. For now, it’d have to do.

His strategy appeared to work as she shoved the helmet on her head.

“You win this one, Miles, but if you pull any crap on the road—” she adjusted the neck strap “—like speeding or making crazy turns―” she snapped the buckle on the strap into place “—or making me feel at all uncomfortable―” she pulled down the visor “—I’m done.”

He hated not being able to see her eyes.

“Got it.”

He put on his own helmet and lifted his good leg, his right leg, over the bike. It was one of the many adjustments he’d had to make since losing the left leg. He used to mount bikes and horses alike with his left leg first. He still could if he really wanted to, but he felt much more stable doing it the new way.

Ro remained next to the bike.

“Get on.”

She complied, although he understood beyond any measure of doubt that she did so only because she, too, was convinced this was the best way to travel at the moment—light, fast and basically undercover.

His abdomen quickened when her hands reached around his waist and clasped in front of him. The fact that she didn’t even try to hold on to the back handle inexplicably pleased him.

Despite her refusals to see him on a social basis, she trusted him on some gut level. She wouldn’t be on his bike, much less with her arms around his waist, unless she did.

That insight was enough to make him pray she didn’t allow her hands to wander any farther south or she’d know just how much he wanted her to trust him.

Miles smiled broadly under his helmet and revved the engine.

He’d enjoyed an active, commitment-free sex life before the accident. It was the only kind he’d felt safe having; with worldwide missions that took him away often and unpredictably, he hadn’t wanted to settle down. He especially hadn’t wanted to worry that he’d left a widow or, heaven forbid, orphan behind.

That was then, this was now. He’d had some time to think about his life and the fact that he wasn’t immortal. He’d known he could die while he was out on deployment—half expected it. It was part of the package when he signed on for explosive ordnance, and then again when he’d joined efforts with the SEALs on his last set of missions.

He’d faced the possibility of his own death head-on.

He sped the bike past the fir tree-lined streets in Ro’s neighborhood and eased them onto the main highway that bisected Oak Harbor and the island. They were headed north to where Petty Officer Perez had lived with his wife and two young children.

Miles turned on the motorcycle’s communications system and filled Ro in on the brief meeting he’d managed with the CACO.

The Perezes lived off-base. Mrs. Perez was a nurse and had a good job at the base hospital, so they could afford to purchase their own home. This wasn’t the case for most navy sailors who, once they had families, had to live in base quarters just to make ends meet. Living on base meant no rent, no utilities other than telephone, cable and internet. Quarters were often cramped but very livable, especially on Whidbey Island with the abundant natural scenery. It was easy to enjoy most weekends outdoors year-round, which made up for the tiny homes.

The Perezes had done well for themselves.

He pulled the bike into a small cul-de-sac in the Perezes’ neighborhood, then took his helmet off and motioned for her to do the same.

They were still on the bike.

“Why didn’t you just pull up to the house?” Ro’s voice was low and he liked how he could feel the faint timbre of it.

“I could have—they’ll assume we’re here for a condolence visit either way. But I’d rather not run into anyone who knows us if we can help it. Discretion being the better part and all that, right? I thought it might be a good idea to walk around the neighborhood and get a feel for the area first. Plus we might get some information out of their neighbors.”

“I really hate that we have to do this like we’re creeping around.” In his peripheral vision he saw her raise and then lower her helmet onto her thigh.

“We aren’t ‘creeping around,’ Ro. We’re officially nonofficial, working for the commodore.”

“You never call him ‘boss’ or ‘Captain,’ either, I notice.”

“No, I don’t.” He wasn’t going to elaborate. It was rare for him to respect any leader as much as he did his EOD colleagues, but that wasn’t what was at issue here. The reality as he saw it was that Commodore Sanders was, plain and simple, out for himself and his promotion. Miles didn’t let his own opinion take up too much space in his head, though. The commodore stayed out of Miles’s business and always made it clear that he respected Miles’s weapons expertise.

“Can you slide off first, please? It’ll be easier for both of us.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—of course.” He regretted the loss of her body heat so near his the moment she broke contact with him and slid off the bike.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He took off his helmet, then accepted hers and put both of them in the storage area under the seat. He pocketed his keys and looked around.

“I get it.” She sighed softly.

“Get what?” He saw her expression and held up a hand. “No, wait. I haven’t said anything about the commodore. My opinion is just that—mine, and it’s irrelevant. He’s our boss, we’re following his orders. Did I miss anything?”

She smiled at him.

“Nothing at all.”

Damn, her smile made him forget what she’d asked. Why they were here, his own freaking name...

“Let’s go.” He turned and headed up the street, away from the cul-de-sac. Perez’s family home was just around the bend, on the other side of the woods that separated the neighborhood streets.

“Aye-aye, Warrant.” Ro mock saluted him as she fell into step.