he’s definitely not available. He’s recovering from serious injuries, and the last thing he needs is—”
“Who is it, dear?” An older woman appeared in the background.
Captain Rossi’s mother? Kai turned her smile to the salt-and-pepper-haired woman. “Sorry for the intrusion, Mrs., uh, Rossi? I understand your family has endured some, uh, difficult days lately, but the men in Captain Rossi’s squad pitched in to send Amigo to him.” She inclined her head toward the dog. “And since I was heading for New York, they asked me to bring him to, uh, to the captain.” She stopped, defeated by the growing displeasure in the older woman’s face.
“As you say, we have indeed endured difficult days, and I’m afraid that none of us has the energy, the time nor even the interest in adding a dog to the equation. So if you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you returned the poor creature to the people whose misguided sympathies assumed we—or even my son—would want it.”
The tiny hairs on the back of Kai’s neck bristled. Ignoring the satisfied smile on the younger woman’s face—girlfriend? wife?—and trying hard to hold her temper, she said, “The problem is, you see, that the men who sent Amigo are back there. In Afghanistan.”
Mrs. Rossi drew her lips together in a tight line. “If you insist on leaving the dog, I shall simply have to call Animal Protection. They’ll dispose of it for me. It’s up to you.”
The eyes that beaded in on Kai were cool and unyielding. After a long, uncomfortable moment, Kai murmured, “I hope Captain Rossi won’t be too disappointed.”
“He—” Mrs. Rossi began, but stopped when the other woman placed a hand on her arm.
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” the younger woman said and closed the door.
Kai didn’t move, thinking perhaps the whole scene was a mistake and someone—maybe Rossi himself—would fling the door open again. No such luck. Mustering as much dignity as she could, in case those formidable eyes were peering out through the sheer drapes in the bay window, Kai pulled the dog back to the SUV.
After he reluctantly clambered into the rear, she sagged into the driver’s seat, giving the house one last look. Then she took a deep breath and said, “I guess it’s just you and me now, Amigo.”
She glanced up at the rearview mirror. The dog uttered a low moaning sound and slumped down on his forepaws.
“Was that a groan? Don’t tell me that was a groan.” Kai snapped the seat belt around her. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe this whole scene.” She reversed, a tad quickly, out of the drive. Following the meandering streets out of the area, she considered her next move, realizing at the same time that her plans for the rest of the day were now in serious need of amendment.
She checked on the dog one last time before heading for Brooklyn. Amigo was already asleep, completely oblivious to his narrow escape from the pound.
How the heck did I end up with a dog?
* * *
IT WAS THE slam of a door that grabbed his attention, dragging him from the apathy that his therapist warned could become his “new normal.” Luca had grimaced at the phrase. Not that he would mind being normal. Growing up as an only child in a family that demanded exceptionality had instilled a strong urge in his adolescence to be, simply, average. Any normal would be new to him.
He stretched his neck, just making out through the bare branches of the oak tree next to his bedroom window the rooftop of a black SUV reversing out of the drive. Something about the way the vehicle swerved as it gained momentum made him wonder about the driver’s mood. His mother had been doing guard duty since his arrival home from the hospital a week ago. And there was no more diligent sentry, he knew, than Isabel Rossi. Though to be fair, he himself had mumbled through his post-anesthetic haze that he wanted no visitors. None at all, he’d had to repeat. Meaning no bridge or tennis club friends of his mother’s. And no family, either. Especially the legion of cousins, aunts and uncles who’d been phoning nonstop since they’d heard he was home.
The effort of leaning forward exhausted him. He lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes, waiting for the dizziness to subside. His doctor had told him it would take a few weeks before he felt like his “old self,” but Luca guessed he’d never see that old self again. One of many thoughts that kept rolling around in his brain the past few weeks was that maybe losing his old self wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Lately he’d been asking himself if he even wanted that Luca Rossi back. He hated to let down his friends—both in the military and out—along with family members who not only expected that former self back but encouraged its return. Yet if he wanted to be whole again—and he knew in his heart that he did—he would have to nurture this new self. That was at the top of the list of things to do. His goals, the therapist had explained.
There was a light tap on his bedroom door before it swung gently open. Luca kept his eyes shut, hoping either his mother or Becky would think he was asleep.
“Luca?” came the faintest of whispers.
Of all the luck. Becky.
“Luca?”
There was no point. Persistence was her second name.
“Hmm?” He opened his eyes.
“Can I get you anything?”
An hour ago she’d posed the same question. “No, thanks. But I appreciate the support you’re giving my mother, Becky.”
“It’s the least I can do.” She shrugged.
“But I’m sure you must have work things to get back to,” he began, irritated by the shrug. He knew very well that his mother hadn’t asked for help, and Becky was the last person he himself would have contacted. “We won’t mind if you need to return to your other life.”
She frowned.
“I mean your life outside playing nursemaid,” he quipped.
The frown deepened. “Are you telling me you don’t want me around anymore?”
Luca closed his eyes. Right-to-the-point Becky. Her other middle name. Now or never, he told himself. Her presence has been bugging you for a week now, so get to it. Finish what you started.
“I hope my message wasn’t quite so blunt,” he said.
“But still.”
“I think it might be best for both of us if we went back to where we were before.”
“Before you got injured? You mean last summer?”
“Yeah.” He was surprised at the huskiness in his voice. Perhaps some part of him hadn’t recovered from their breakup after all.
Becky pursed her lips. “I thought maybe we could—you know—start over again. Put all of that behind us.”
It was tempting, he thought, looking at her blond, slender beauty. Remembering how she’d been able to drive him mad with her smile. Until last July, when he learned she’d been seeing his best friend behind his back. He felt that small hardness inside again.
“What’s
