“Yes.” She pulled out an ink pad and a stamp with a smiley face on it. “But in order to keep my teaching certificate I have to do continuing education every so often or work toward my master’s degree. The specifics vary from state to state, but the general concept is the same. You probably have to do the same thing—keep your skills current, I mean.”
“Yeah. Except now, if I were to stay in the Army, I’d be stuck behind a desk. My ability to hit a target dead center fifty times in a row isn’t quite so critical anymore.”
She bit her lip and he could see the moment when she realized that she’d reminded him of his forced change of career. Still, she continued to stare up at him, concern in her face. “Will you tell me what happened to you?”
He felt the muscles of his face tightening with the effort to keep a casual expression in place. “I have a piece of shrapnel in my leg. It’s too risky to remove.” He tried to smile. “Plays hell with airport security.”
She didn’t return the smile. “I meant how it happened.”
He turned away, heading for the living room where he’d laid his book and reading glasses down. “One of my buddies stepped on a mine.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her flinch. “Did you see it?”
He nodded. A lump rose into his throat and refused to ease.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
He managed a nod. “Yeah, me, too.”
“You always wanted to be a soldier, didn’t you?” A fleeting smile crossed her face. “I remember when Mel and I were about eight, you and the Paylen boys from down the street recruited us to be the enemy.”
The lump in his throat dissolved as memory came flooding back, and with it came an irresistible urge to laugh. “Only that didn’t last very long once my dad found out we were launching rocks at you out of that homemade catapult.” He shook his head ruefully. “He always did have eyes in the back of his head.”
Phoebe snorted. “He did not. Melanie ran and told on you.”
“That twerp.” His tone was fond. “I should have known. She ran and left you there alone. You were picking up the rocks and throwing them back. I never knew a girl could throw that hard, especially one your size.”
She smiled smugly. “That’s what the other softball players used to say when I was in high school.”
Memories of Phoebe as a child, of himself during those same carefree years before the world had demanded its pound of flesh, came flooding back and he returned her grin. “We’re lucky, aren’t we, to have such good memories? I’d love to go back and be that age again.”
To his surprise, her smile vanished. “I don’t. You could not offer me anything to live my childhood over again.” There was a grim, flat note that he’d never heard before in her voice that told him he’d struck some nerve.
His interest sharpened immediately. “That surprises me,” he said.
“Growing up without a father in the picture wasn’t always easy.”
Now that he thought about it, he could recall occasional unkind comments about the twins’ illegitimate birth. But…”You and Mel seemed pretty happy to me.”
Her face softened, the line of her mouth relaxing as her lips curved up the tiniest bit. “We were,” she said softly.
He chuckled, determined to get her to relax her guard again. “Happiest when you were tormenting the poor boys in the neighborhood who were all fighting over you.”
“You’re confusing me with my sister now. I never tormented anybody. All the boys I knew had the hots for Melanie.”
“Not all.” He said it quietly, but the instant he spoke, the atmosphere changed. Electric awareness sparked and crackled as her gaze flew to his.
But she looked away again immediately. “You, too,” she said, and in her face he saw her determination to keep things light between them. “When she and I were seniors, she chased you until you caught her, remember?”
He smiled wryly. “I remember. Are you going to hold it against me forever? I was a teenage boy. And God knows boys that age are helpless against an attractive female who’s as determined as Melanie was.”
To his surprise, she chuckled. “She was determined, too. All she talked about that summer was you. What to wear so that you noticed her, where to stand so that she just happened to be where you were headed. You told her once that she looked good in pink so we shopped for pink for the next three months. Have you ever tried to find a good shade of pink for a redhead to wear?” She shook her head, still smiling. “You didn’t stand a chance.”
He didn’t stand a chance now, either. Did she know how desirable she looked? Her eyes were soft and faraway, her body relaxed where she’d angled herself toward him. Her lips looked so soft and inviting as they curved with happy memories….
They were soft and inviting. His entire body revved for action as the memory of the afternoon’s kiss leaped into the forefront of his mind again. All he’d wanted to do was sink into her sweetness, live the dream he’d kept in his head during terrifying moments of hiding when he’d been sure he would be discovered any minute. Make love to her for real, not just in his imagination while he lay in an American military hospital in Germany. He’d wanted her so badly he’d nearly forgotten the child playing on the floor mere feet away.
And when he’d remembered, it had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed to look away and focus his attention on his daughter.
“Is it really that bad an idea?”
Her unusually timid tone dragged him out of his introspection. “What?”
She was regarding him with thinly veiled curiosity. “A penny for those thoughts. I said you’re welcome to invite your father to visit for a few weeks if you like. He might enjoy the chance to get to know Bridget.”
“What?” he asked again.
“I said—”
“I know what you said! I guess I’m just…surprised at the offer. Are you sure you want my father underfoot?”
She smiled. “I always liked your father. Unless he becomes a werewolf at the full moon, or has some really weird habits I don’t know about, it would be fine with me.”
“Or we could take Bridget to California to visit him. He’s not a young man anymore, and he’s never been on a plane in his life.”
A fleeting expression crossed her face so quickly he wasn’t even sure if he’d seen it or imagined it. Had it been panic? Dismay? “You could fly home and then come back with him,” she said. “You know, so he wouldn’t have to fly alone.”
“I could.” He spoke slowly, watching as she twisted her slender fingers together in a sure sign of nerves. But what the hell was it that was making her so uptight? “Don’t you want to come home? See the old neighborhood? You could manage one long weekend, couldn’t you?”
Her
