of his “war face.”
He and Wes had completely cracked Colleen up on more than one occasion by practicing their “war faces” in the bathroom mirror during their far-too-infrequent visits home. She’d always thought it was silly—what did the expression on their faces matter when they went into a fight?—until now. Now she saw that that grim look on Bobby’s usually so-agreeably handsome face was startlingly effective. He looked hard and tough and even mean—as if he’d get quite a bit of enjoyment and satisfaction in tearing John Morrison and his friends limb from limb.
But then he looked at her and smiled, and warmth seeped back into his dark-brown eyes.
He had the world’s most beautiful eyes.
“Hey, Colleen,” he said in his matter-of-fact, no worries, easygoing voice. “How’s it going?”
He held out his arms to her, and in a flash she was running across the asphalt and hugging him. He smelled faintly of cigarette smoke—no doubt thanks to her brother, Mr. Just-One-More-Cigarette-Before-I-Quit—and coffee. He was warm and huge and solid and one of very few men in the world who could actually make her feel if not quite petite then pretty darn close.
As long as she’d wished him here, she should have wished for more. Like for him to have shown up with a million-dollar lottery win in his pocket. Or—better yet—a diamond ring and a promise of his undying love.
Yes, she’d had a wild crush on this man for close to ten years now. And just once she wanted him to take her into his arms like this and kiss her senseless, instead of giving her a brotherly noogie on the top of her head as he released her.
Over the past few years she’d imagined she’d seen appreciation in his eyes as he’d looked at her. And once or twice she could’ve sworn she’d actually seen heat—but only when he thought both she and Wes weren’t looking. Bobby was attracted to her. Or at the very least she wished he were. But even if he were, there was no way in hell he’d ever act on that attraction—not with Wes watching his every move and breathing down his neck.
Colleen hugged him tightly. She had only two chances each visit to get this close to him—once during hello and once during goodbye—and she always made sure to take full advantage.
But this time he winced. “Easy.”
Oh, God, he’d been hurt. She pulled back to look up at him, and she actually had to tilt her head. He was that tall.
“I’m a little sore,” he told her, releasing her completely and stepping back, away from her. “Shoulder and leg. Nothing serious. You got me in the dead perfect spot, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I’m taking some down time to get back to speed.”
“What happened—or can you not tell me?”
He shook his head, smiling apologetically. He was such a good-looking man. And that little smile…What would he look like with his thick hair loose from the single braid he wore down his back? Although, she realized, he wasn’t wearing a braid today. Instead, he wore his hair pulled back into a simple ponytail.
Every time she saw him, she expected him to have his hair cut short again. But each time it was even longer.
The first time they’d met, back when he and Wes were training to become SEALs, he’d had a crew cut.
Colleen gestured to the kids, aware they were all still watching. “Come on, gang, let’s keep going here.”
“Are you all right?” Bobby stepped closer to her, to avoid the spray from the hose. “What’s the deal with those guys?”
“You’re why they left,” she realized suddenly. And even though mere minutes ago she’d wished desperately for Bobby’s and her brother’s presence, she felt a flare of anger and frustration. Darn it! She’d wanted Morrison’s retreat to be because of her. As nice as it would be, she couldn’t walk around with a Navy SEAL by her side every minute of every day.
“What was that about, Colleen?” Bobby pressed.
“Nothing,” she said tersely.
He nodded, regarding her steadily. “It didn’t feel like ‘nothing.”’
“Nothing you have to worry about,” she countered. “I’m doing some pro bono legal work for the AIDS Education Center, and not everyone is happy about it. That’s what litigation’s all about. Where’s Wes? Parking the car?”
“Actually, he’s—”
“I know why you’re here. You came to try to talk me out of going to Tulgeria. Wes probably came to forbid me from going. Hah. As if he could.” She picked up her sponge and rinsed it in a bucket. “I’m not going to listen to either of you, so you might as well just save your breath, turn around and go back to California. I’m not fifteen anymore, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Hey, I’ve noticed,” Bobby said. He smiled. “But Wes needs a little work in that area.”
“You know, my living room is completely filled with boxes,” Colleen told him. “Donations of supplies and clothing. I don’t have any room for you guys. I mean, I guess you can throw sleeping bags on the floor of my bedroom, but I swear to God, if Wes snores, I’m kicking him out into the street.”
“No,” Bobby said. “That’s okay. I made hotel reservations. This week is kind of my vacation, and—”
“Where is Wes?” Colleen asked, shading her eyes and looking down the busy city street. “Parking the car in Kuwait?”
“Actually.” Bobby cleared his throat. “Yeah.”
She looked at him.
“Wes is out on an op,” he told her. “It’s not quite Kuwait, but…”
“He asked you to come to Boston,” Colleen realized. “For him. He asked you to play big brother and talk me out of going to Tulgeria, didn’t he? I don’t believe it. And you agreed? You jerk!”
“Colleen, come on. He’s my best friend. He’s worried about you.”
“And you don’t think I worry about him? Or you?” she countered hotly. “Do I come out to California to try to talk you out of risking your lives? Do I ever say, don’t be a SEAL? No! Because I respect you. I respect the choices and decisions you make.”
Father Timothy and Shantel emerged from the church kitchen with a huge thermos of lemonade and a stack of cups.
“Everything all right?” Father T. asked, eyeing Bobby apprehensively.
Bobby held out his hand. “I’m Bobby Taylor, a friend of Colleen’s,” he introduced himself.
“A friend of my brother, Wes’s,” she corrected him as the two men shook hands. “He’s here as a surrogate brother. Father, plug your ears. I’m about to be extremely rude to him.”
Timothy laughed. “I’ll see if the other children want lemonade.”
“Go
