The Military K-9 Unit Collection. Valerie Hansen
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A slow smile teased the edges of her mouth and a twinkle appeared in her eyes. She went back to talking to the dog. Did she suspect his true reason for following her? And if so, what did she think? Judging by the smile, she wasn’t displeased. His heart rate kicked up a notch. For the millionth time he admonished himself for his base reaction. Now is not the time.
Then again, he could be completely wrong about what she was thinking. She wasn’t as easy to read as he apparently was.
After a few minutes, Felicity rose and they went to Westley’s office and switched on the tablet.
It wasn’t password-protected. “That’s weird,” Felicity said. “Why wouldn’t he use a pass code?”
Westley pressed the button for the home screen. There were no apps or email icons, only several folders. All untitled.
“That’s so not like my dad. He’s usually so organized. You know, ‘a place for everything and everything in its place.’”
“Let’s have a look at file number one.” He clicked on the icon. An album of photos spread across the small screen.
Felicity gasped. “These pictures are from my parents’ wedding.” She touched the screen, her finger hovering over her parents’ images. Her mother looked so pretty in her white wedding gown, her hair piled upon her head and surrounded by a pearl-trimmed veil. Her dad looked handsome in his mess-dress uniform. “I’d only seen the portrait of my parents’ wedding day that used to hang in the living room.”
“Your parents look happy,” Westley said.
They did. Both were smiling. Dad’s arm was wrapped around her mother’s waist while she held a bouquet of white gardenias. Her mother’s favorite flower.
Felicity double-tapped the photo so that it took up the whole screen. As she peered closely at the image staring back at her, a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Her mother had a distinct bump in her belly. “She was pregnant with me.”
Westley tilted his head. “How can you be sure?”
“Look. Can’t you see it?” She paced away from his desk, the confines of the office suddenly closing in on her. “This explains so many things.” Like why her mother was always hypercritical. And the lectures about making good choices and the consequences of poor choices. “My mind is blowing up.”
“Let’s not be overdramatic.”
“Overdramatic?” She stared at him. “Are you kidding me?” She made a slashing gesture with her hand. “You don’t get it. My whole life my mom told me to wait for love. To not get serious about a guy too soon. That every decision I made needed to be well thought out. Not something done in haste or in the heat of the moment.” She shook her head at the irony. “Now I understand. Makes total sense. She acted in the heat of the moment and regretted it. Regretted me. No wonder I can never get her approval. She didn’t want me to begin with.”
Westley came to her side and took her hands. “Look at me,” he said. “You can’t think that.”
“But it’s obvious, isn’t it?” She felt like the world was crumbling under her feet. “They had to get married. My dad was an honorable man. Of course he married her.”
“They had to have loved each other,” Westley insisted. “They wouldn’t have stayed together for as long as they did if they hadn’t loved each other on some level.”
“Maybe. But they eventually did divorce.” She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that her parents had loved each other. Doesn’t every child want that?
She didn’t question her father’s love. He had made it clear every day of his life. But her mother... All the doubts and fears that she had as a child rose to the surface. She’d tried so hard to make her mother happy and proud. But she’d been doomed from the get-go. “I was a mistake.” Numbness stole over her heart.
“Don’t say that. Don’t let this define you or define your relationship with your mother.”
She met his gaze. “But how can I not?”
Determination lit the depths of his eyes. “You can talk to her,” he suggested, his tone gentle.
“Like that’s going to happen.” Just the thought of asking her mother such intimate questions about her life and her marriage made Felicity’s insides clench. “You don’t know my mother. She can be intimidating at the best of times. I shudder to think how she would react if I asked her if she regretted having me or if she regretted marrying my father. We don’t talk about things like that.”
Westley drew her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re right—I don’t know her. But she can’t be all that bad, because I like her daughter a lot.”
He liked her? A lot? The admission surprised her, pleased her. Stirred up all the emotions she’d been trying to ignore. She liked him a lot, too. More than liked him, if she was being honest with herself.
But where could their relationship go? Their future in the air force depended on not becoming involved. There were lines they shouldn’t—couldn’t—cross.
As much as she wanted to see where this attraction would lead, she knew the best thing for them both was to deny the connection they both obviously felt for one another.
They had a purpose that needed their attention.
She stepped back, took a deep breath. “Let’s look at the other files.” She wanted to forget what she’d learned, but doubted that knowledge would ever go away. For now she stuffed it into a box within her and hoped the lid would stay shut. “One of the other files has to be related to the case my father was working on.”
On the tablet, Westley closed the open file of wedding photos, and then clicked on the next file. More photos appeared. These were of Felicity as a child, and shots of her father and her uncle mugging for the camera. There were photos of her mother as well, looking beautiful and serene sitting on the sand beneath an umbrella. Felicity vaguely remembered going to a Corpus Christi beach. She still had a collection of seashells in her room from that trip. Her mother did look happy here in these photos, she noted.
“These aren’t helpful,” she said. “Try that one.”
Westley exited the file and clicked on the next one. A window popped up and asked for a password. “This has to be it,” he said. “Any idea what your father would use as a password?”
“I haven’t a clue,” she said.
“I’ll try your name.”
No go.
“Try Colleen,” Felicity said. “My mom’s name.”
That didn’t work, either, and neither did the other obvious passwords they tried. He closed the folder and powered down the device before handing