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  “Maybe.” The mischievous twinkle in her eye and broad smile answered for her.

  “I like this side of you.” He reached out to touch her fingers, capped with short and polish-free nails. Her beauty came naturally, an inner glow that had intensified as the years passed. “Then again, I like everything about you.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “I do.” Their food arrived as he was about to lift her fingers to his mouth for a kiss. He settled for watching her eat. Although slender, she enjoyed her food with gusto, trading bites to discuss the different flavors.

  The easy conversation halted with Gwen’s unexpected question.

  “So, what happened with you and your ex-wife?” She must have noticed the tightening of his jaw because, she added, “I’m glad you two separated for my own sake, but….”

  Here it was. The question he’d wanted to avoid, one of them anyway. He mulled his response, weighing how much to reveal and what to conceal.

  “Never mind. It was impolite of me to ask.”

  Her shoulders drooped, and she stared at her plate. His heart hurt.

  His exhalation caused the candle to flicker. The time was right to tell Gwen everything. Starting was hard, but the sooner she found out about his injury, the better. This tainted place was as good as any for her to give up on him, no matter how much he longed to delay the inevitable. He reached across the table and touched her wrist, so soft and delicate.

  Her gaze lifted. “I—”

  “My marriage to Brooke was doomed before it even began. When she left, I was angry and relieved, but I wasn’t surprised. Neither one of us had been happy.”

  “Wait, Brooke, as in my former roommate Brooke?”

  “Yes. I’ve had plenty of time to think about why her, during the run up to the wedding, during training, out in the field, and later. As near as I can tell, she thought being a military wife would involve a lot more formal parties with me in my dress uniform and her in a designer dress. I think she thought we’d be in D.C., going to parties at the White House, and she’d get to play hostess to the rich and powerful.”

  “That sounds like her.”

  “I don’t think she wasn’t prepared for the reality of long deployments and all the associated stresses. It’s a tough life, and I didn’t make it easy on her. We spent a lot of time apart, even when we lived under the same roof. I wanted a family; she didn’t. She liked retail therapy; I didn’t. We slept in separate bedrooms long before my last deployment.

  “As for me, well, I’m even more at fault. I ignored doubts before the wedding. She loved me in her way, at least at the start. I’m sure of it. She talked up how great marriage would be and what a great wife she would be. How she could help me since her family knew ‘the right people.’ She took charge of everything. She had to. I focused on my military career. In reality, I was too busy nursing my broken heart to be of much practical use.”

  “I don’t remember you dating anyone for more than a month or two before Brooke. Did I know her, or was she a girlfriend from back home?”

  “She always seemed to have a boyfriend, and when she didn’t, I was seeing someone. I never went on a date with the woman who broke my heart, graduated early, and left town. Not until tonight.”

  Her lips parted, appearing puffy and oh-so-kissable. She was surprised, and pleased, he could tell. He reached for her hand, no longer able to resist touching her. The phone vibrated against his hip bone. She mattered more.

  “I had no idea.” Her words emerged in a husky pant. His fingers drew lazy circles on her wrist, but the small touch wasn’t enough. Once they drove all the way back home, he’d sate the need to touch more of her—if she accepted him, injury and all.

  The phone rattled his bones. A quick glance down showed the same number as last time. He made a mental note to check voice mail later and to curse out the caller for bothering him. At least the interruption reminded him that he and Gwen sat in a public place, visible to the other diners. Although the restaurant exuded romance, the proprietors frowned upon such overt sexual displays of affection.

  “Should we order dessert and coffee before we risk being thrown out of the restaurant?”

  “Do you need to take that call? Dessert can wait.”

  Her concern touched him. “No. I meant to leave it in the car.” It buzzed again.

  “Go ahead. Someone is desperate to reach you.”

  He excused himself to take the call away from the dining room.

  Gwen swirled her wine in the glass, processing Kyle’s confession. What would have happened if she’d stayed even for fall semester her senior year? Life without Chloe was unthinkable. But why hadn’t they progressed beyond friendship if he liked her even half as much as she liked him? If they had, could she have spared him a difficult marriage to a manipulative woman? Can’t change the past.

  His grim face and his urgent walk as he returned warned her the call had been serious. He paused long enough to speak to the waiter and slip him something, presumably a credit card. With a tense jaw and eyes wide in fear, his body crumpled in the chair across from her.

  “It’s Coach. He had a massive heart attack. His wife wants me to come to the hospital.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Oh, Kyle.” She patted his hand, offering comfort. “I’ll go with you.” He lifted his head, his watery gaze meeting hers.

  The waiter returned with the receipt and their items from coat check. They dashed to the black Jeep.

  As the seat belt snugged across her body, a question formed. “Are you okay to drive?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, because I shouldn’t drive after all that wine.”

  “Gwen, I need you to distract me. Listening to you and talking with you will keep me from thinking about Coach. I can’t do anything till we get there.” He pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the country road that would take them back to Corwin.

  “Is there anything particular, the ‘good old days’? Baking tips?”

  “Tell me about Chloe.”

  “She’s a lovely girl. I don’t know too many other babies to be able to compare her to other kids, but she seems good-natured. She pushes up on all fours and wobbles around like she wants to crawl. She—”

  “That’s not what I meant. Tell me about her father. Is he still in the picture? Do you share custody, that sort of thing?”

  “I suppose it’s fair. You told me about Brooke, and I’m tipsy enough to babble. When I landed in Phoenix, I got a job in logistics with a small company. My coworkers and I got along well and often went to happy hour on Thursdays at a local bar. Cody’s family owned the bar, and he helped out as he waited for a full-time position to open up in the fire department. At least, that’s what he told me. I later found out he hadn’t passed the necessary tests.

  “When the company went under, he overheard us talking about our new jobs and how we wouldn’t get together as often. He pulled me aside on one of my trips past the bar and asked me out. We started dating in spite of our crazy work schedules. Some couples go to the movies, we went to the grocery store at four thirty in the morning when he got off work and before I started my day at six. Cody was a fun guy, and his big, noisy family made me feel right at home. Sometimes, I wonder if I stayed with him as long as I did because I liked him or his family. Do you really want to hear this?”

  “I need the distraction. If I’m mad at him, I won’t think about Coach as much.” His unsettling growl told her how important this was to him.

  “Four months later, I found out I was pregnant. When I told Cody, he disappeared for four days. Not even his family knew where he had gone, but they told me not to worry. He always came back. When he returned, I suspect his mother yelled at him quite a bit, and next thing I know, he’s asking me to marry him. Being alone and pregnant scared the daylights out of me, but with him, I was certain I’d have him and this big, wonderful family. I said yes, but kind of like you, I knew it wouldn’t work out because I didn’t lov
e him.” There. I finally said it. The truth brought an unexpected liberation.

  “At least you didn’t ask the question, knowing it was a bad idea.”

  “Accepting for the wrong reasons is just as bad.” Spindly shadows flickered past the windows, but with Kyle by her side, her old fears faded.

  “Tell me more. I need to hear your voice.”

  “Cody returned gung ho about being a dad. He loved his nieces and nephews and talked a lot about what a big family he wanted. He signed us up for birth classes, read baby books with me, and brought me lunch at work. I worked at a family-owned restaurant-supply warehouse. They treated us like part of their family. They threw us a baby shower and arranged for me to keep off my feet as I got bigger. Cody’s work schedule got crazy during my last trimester because he wanted to have more money for the baby.”

  “So, what happened? He sounds perfect, other than running away.” The bitterness in his voice startled her.

  “Hardly!”

  He clenched the steering wheel tighter, his arms rigid with the effort, and he hadn’t heard the worst part. She thought of Coach. “Are you sure you want to hear this? We could talk about something else. Seen any good movies lately?”

  “No. I want you to make me angry.”

  Maybe it was the wine, but that almost made sense. He needed a distraction that engaged his emotions. This wasn’t the time or place to distract him with lovemaking. With a few words, his blood would boil.

  “Okay. I went into labor ten days before my due date. I was by myself, so I tried Cody’s cell phone. He didn’t pick up, so I tried the bar. His cousin said he was off. I tried his cell phone a few more times and left messages. My boss and his wife were my backups, but they were out of town for the week. They’d promised their nineteen-year-old daughter would help if something happened while they were out of town. I called her to no avail. Finally, I called a cab.

  “I labored away by myself for hours, and Cody showed up about sunrise. By that time, I was in the recovery room, and Chloe’s birth was a matter of record. He apologized, but when he leaned over to kiss me, he reeked of a strange perfume.

  “Six weeks later, I’m doing laundry in the middle of the night. Cody worked crazy hours, but still needed his laundry done. When Chloe cried, he left rather than helped out. I figured it would pass. Not all fathers bond instantly with infants. But I grew bitter at home and at work. The boss’s daughter neglected to do the parts of my job she should have, so I worked extra and even brought work home to try and sort it all out. After Chloe’s midnight nursing, I folded laundry or put away the dishes in an effort to bring some order to the house. I noticed a stain on a pair of Cody’s briefs. It was bright pink, the exact same gaudy shade of neon preferred by the boss’s daughter. Everything clicked.”

  “That B— Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I spent another couple of weeks considering my options and using the investigational tools available to me—phone records to support my accusations. I confronted them. The little tramp confessed to the affair and bragged that she’d ‘fucked him good’ the night I labored in the hospital. She confirmed my suspicions, but hearing the words aloud still hurt.”

  “Gwen, I’m so sorry you went through that.” His voice sounded tender, but a peek at his face, softly lit from the dashboard, revealed his inner tension. If she didn’t keep talking, he might break down.

  “Don’t be. It brought me here, didn’t it? We’re getting close to the hospital now. I better finish up. I put together my plans to leave and gave notice at work. It takes longer to run away when you run for two. My employers figured out what had occurred when their daughter paraded Cody through their house a few days later. They fired me and gave me a generous severance package that included the bakery equipment I brought with me. I think they felt guilty for what their daughter did. Cody tried once to apologize, but I refused to see him. I even got the apartment manager to change the lock since it was my name on the lease.

  “I gave his mother, who truly loves Chloe, my father’s office address and a private e-mail address, so we could keep in touch. Cody got nothing, which is precisely what he deserves.”

  She put her hand on his arm as they pulled into the hospital parking lot. In her babbling, she said too much, but maybe not enough. “Rough as that time was, I’m glad it happened. I have Chloe and a new appreciation for my family and their support through the years. They welcomed their prodigal daughter with open arms and helped me fulfill my dream of my own bakery. And then, there is you.”

  With the car stopped, he met her gaze. Something indefinable simmered between them. She wasn’t sure if it was love, but that seemed like the right word. With a glance from him, her heart fluttered, and it melted when he tended to Chloe. What could she offer him in exchange for all he gave her?

  “Let’s go make sure Coach Meyer is okay.”

  “Thanks, Gwen. You’re my rock.”

  Her cheeks burned. Was that what love was? Mutual rocks?

  ***

  She held his hand as they passed through more sliding doors than he could count. In different circumstances, the feel of her thumb rubbing small circles around his knuckle would have assisted arousal, but the action reassured him. The receptionist pointed them toward the visitors’ waiting area. One of the other assistant coaches was already there, but Rich didn’t know anything except where to find the vending machines.

  “I’m going to call home and check on Chloe. Be right back.”

  He considered it unfair to his own father to call Coach a father figure, and yet, his affection for the man went beyond a working relationship. Coach Meyer was more a curmudgeonly grandfather or cantankerous uncle. He cursed and yelled, but he got the job done, dispensing wisdom and understated praise as warranted.

  Through his four years of playing for Corwin, he’d played hard. Other players had possessed more talent, and he sat deep on the bench, but it didn’t matter. His gritted determination earned him the admiration of Coach Meyer and his teammates. He learned how to trust his instincts and be a leader of men, skills he relied upon during his special-ops missions. Sometimes during practice, Coach Meyer had joked he would call him when he needed an assistant coach. He laughed it off, but when he’d called a year ago, Kyle had jumped at the chance. The timing had been perfect.

  Gwen returned, taking the seat beside him. “Any news?”

  “No. You?”

  “Mom panicked when I said I was at the hospital, but I explained the situation. Chloe drank about a quarter of the bottle I left, but better than nothing. Mom said she fussed a bit at first, but fell asleep within fifteen minutes of lying in her crib.”

  “Is that good?”

  “I’m not sure whether to be relieved or sad she went down so easily without me.”

  He lifted her hand to his lips.

  “Thanks. I needed that.”

  Me, too. They held hands, which helped, but his good leg bounced nervously. He hated hospitals. The smell of disinfectant and the sight of mysterious doors and of nurses and doctors rushing through an unending maze of pale-colored corridors took him to places and times best left unremembered. His stump itched with phantom muscle-memory. Focus on Coach. The man who gave him a second chance.

  Gwen offered comfort. The night wasn’t going according to his plan, but she stayed. He pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, letting the smell of her shampoo override all other odors. Strawberries. She deserved some luscious red ones for Valentine’s Day. If he didn’t repulse her beforehand.

  “Coach is a special guy, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah. Did I ever tell you how I got on the team?”

  “No. Tell me.”

  How could he refuse her? “I marched into his office during orientation and announced I wanted to walk on. Coach looked me up and down—I was a skinny freshman in my khaki uniform—and grunted twice.”

  “You always made that uniform look good. It was distracting.”

  “You might have told me.
” Her blush confirmed she looked good in pink. Maybe he should tell her he still had that uniform. Well, not that particular one. He’d grown since then.

  She snuggled against him, nuzzling her rosy cheek against his shoulder. “About Coach?”

  “Right. He turned away and began digging in some files. He asked if I’d be able to keep my grades up ‘in the unlikely event I made the team.’ I said yes, and next thing I knew, he flung a ball over his shoulder. I caught it. He barked, ‘Thursday three p.m.’ Then I noticed the mirror near the ceiling. He was smirking, having watched me the entire time. When he called last year—”

  The squeak of the double doors dragged Kyle’s thoughts back to the present. Nancy Meyer’s rotund figure entered the waiting room, her eyes red and puffy.

  “Rich, Kyle, thank goodness you’re here.” Rich reached her first. Nancy collapsed against him, sobbing. Kyle placed his arm around her shoulder and guided her to a seat, trying to give Rich’s suit a break. Gwen disappeared, but her purse lay on the floor.

  “It was awful!” Nancy gasped between deep sobs. “He said he wanted to lie down after dinner because he wasn’t feeling well, and then he collapsed on the stairs. The ambulance men had a terrible time getting him out of the stairwell.”

  He patted her back. She turned her head to cry on his shoulder, her tears and who knows what else soaking through his shirt. “There, there. Let it all out.”

  Rich slithered away.

  When Gwen returned, she brought bottled water and a tissue box she set on his lap. He offered Nancy a tissue. She blew her nose and looked up, blinking and squinting at Gwen.

  “Mrs. Meyer, this is my….” He hesitated, wondering if girlfriend over or understated their relationship.

  She extended her hand and a bottle of water. “I’m Gwendolyn Jones. I own the Sweet Spot on Central. Is there anything else I can get for you? Coffee?”

  He couldn’t think of anyone better to offer comfort.

  Nancy sniffled. “Thank you, dear. Water is fine.”