squad instead of a chat with an old friend, Drew held his ground just outside the hatch. Because he needed something to do, he looked down at the clipboard in his hand and scribbled something meaningless. Vaguely, he was aware of sweat breaking out on the back of his neck, his heart pounding in perfect rhythm with his head. He felt trapped and annoyed and a little mean. The urge to run was overpowering. But if he’d learned anything in the last four years, it was that running didn’t help. It was the fastest route to nowhere, and memories had a way of following a man no matter how far or how fast he ran.
An uncomfortable quiver ran the length of him when she shoved her sunglasses onto her crown and waylaid him with eyes the color of the Caribbean and a fourteen-karat smile. “You’re a hard man to run down, Drew Evans,” she said, a little breathless, a little ruffled and a whole lot sexy.
Drew didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing.
She reached him a moment later, the little boy’s hand clasped tightly in hers. Drew looked dumbly at the child, then at Alison and felt another wave of disbelief wash over him. He hadn’t thought he’d ever see her again and the shock of it was like a punch right between the eyes.
“What are you doing here?” he managed to ask after a moment.
Her smile faltered, and he silently berated himself for sounding so harsh. He hadn’t intended to sound snappish. But didn’t she realize she had absolutely no reason to smile at him like that? Didn’t she know what he’d done?
“I wanted to surprise you.” She laughed, but now seemed uncertain. “It looks like I succeeded.”
“It’s okay,” he said a little too quickly. “I mean, it’s nice to see you again.”
“Nice, huh?” When he didn’t move, she rolled her eyes. “Well, there’s an enthusiastic welcome.”
Drew knew what was going to happen next. And for a split second he very seriously considered walking away and dealing with the consequences later. But he was aware of the little boy watching him, of his customers all around, of Alison Myers smiling at him and his body responding in a way that was worse than inappropriate.
He stiffened when she leaned close. Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. He felt the brush of her lips against his face like the meeting of heaven and hell, a silent explosion that was as devastating as any bomb. The worst part about it was he couldn’t do a damn thing, except stand in purgatory and watch it happen.
“It’s really good to see you,” she whispered.
Drew barely heard the words for the hot rush of blood through his veins. How was it that after four years of hell, she could still look at him as if he were her husband’s best friend and not the man who’d played a major role in his death? Where was the outrage? The hatred? And for God’s sake, how could he stand there knowing what he’d done to her and still want her?
The questions pelted him like jagged stones. Drew endured the brief contact and the pounding questions in stoic silence. He made no move to touch her. He might not be able to control his response to her, but he could damn well control his motor functions. He’d had his fill of guilt; he wasn’t going to do anything to add to it.
But in the instant when her lips had been pressed chastely against his cheek, he’d closed his eyes against the quick rise of heat. The rush of blood to his groin. The agony of knowing his lust for his best friend’s wife was still as strong as the day he’d first laid eyes on her.
She smelled like tropical fruit, rich and sweet—and definitely poisonous—to him, anyway. All he could think of was that he couldn’t think of a better way to go....
Grappling for composure, Drew disengaged from her, took a quick step back and tried to get his bearings. Because he was having a hard time meeting her gaze, because that kiss had done something he wasn’t proud of to his body, he looked down at the little boy at her side. But if Drew thought looking at her child would be any easier, he was wrong. The little boy looked up at him with big brown eyes that were hauntingly familiar. His father’s eyes, Drew thought, and guilt rose like nausea.
“This is Kevin,” Alison said cheerfully.
Hoping he didn’t look as shaken as he felt, Drew stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Kevin.”
The little boy grinned and shook his hand vigorously. “I’m four. Are you a real pilot?”
“I was the last time I checked.”
Kevin’s brows went together and Alison chuckled.
He had his father’s smile, too, Drew realized. He wondered how Alison had dealt with that. He wondered if she’d done a better job of dealing with Rick’s death than he had.
“You ever flown in a plane before?” Drew asked the boy.
“Me and Mommy flew in a plane from Washington D.C.”
Rick’s parents lived in D.C. Last he’d heard, Alison was living with them, had been since Rick’s death. Having lost her own parents in an automobile accident ten years earlier, she hadn’t had anyone else to turn to. Drew had wanted to check on her and her kid a hundred times, but in the end he’d always decided they would be better off if he just stayed the hell away.
“Seaplanes are a little different,” he said.
“Mommy said we might see a coral ruff.”
“Uh, coral reef.” Drew looked over at Alison and smiled. She smiled back, and he felt another punch-in-the-gut tug of attraction. “I’ve got to finish up my preflight.”
She cocked her head, questioning him with those clear blue eyes, and he knew she was wondering why he didn’t linger for a moment to talk. Drew didn’t want to explain. Hell, he wasn’t sure he could. When it came to Alison, he’d never quite understood what was going on in that so-called brain of his. Of course, his body made no bones about how he felt physically, and that made everything infinitely more complex.
There was no way in hell he could make small talk with a woman who could turn him on with nothing more than a chaste kiss. She’d been his best friend’s wife. A man Drew had watched die. A man Drew hadn’t been able to save.
Holding that thought, he turned and started for the seaplane without saying another word.
Alison had imagined her meeting with Drew Evans happening a number of different ways. All of them had included warmth and laughter and the kind of easiness she’d always shared with her late husband’s best friend. The man she’d just met wasn’t anything like the Drew Evans she’d known four years ago.
She tried telling herself he was simply busy with the tour and his customers. That his standoffishness and quick getaway had absolutely nothing to do with her personally. She’d surprised him. That was all. He simply didn’t have time for chitchat, regardless of the fact that they’d once been close.
But as much as she tried to justify his reaction to her, she sensed there was something more behind it. His reaction hurt. Not only because he’d brushed her off, but because he’d done the same thing to Kevin. That, she realized, disturbed
