masculine features vigorous and tanned even in December. A few strands of gray hair streaked his temple, adding a distinguished air.
His gaze caught hers and Carol sucked in a deep, calming breath, her steps nearly faltering as she advanced toward him. His eyes had changed the most, she decided. Where once they had been warm and caressing, now they were cool and calculating. They narrowed on her, his mistrust shining through as bright as any beacon.
Carol experienced a moment of panic as his gaze seemed to strip away the last shreds of her pride. It took all her willpower to force a smile to her lips.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, and slipped into the red upholstered seat across from him.
The waitress came with a glass coffeepot, and Carol turned over her cup, which the woman promptly filled after placing menus on the table.
“It feels cold enough to snow,” Carol said as a means of starting conversation. It was eerie that she could have been married to Steve all those years and feel as if he were little more than a stranger. He gave her that impression now. This hard, impassive man was one she didn’t know nearly as well as the one who had once been her lover, her friend and her husband.
“You’re looking fit,” Steve said after a moment, a spark of admiration glinting in his gaze.
“Thank you.” A weak smile hovered over her lips. “You, too. How’s the Navy treating you?”
“Good.”
“Are you still on the Atlantis?”
He nodded shortly.
Silence.
Carol groped for something more to say. “It was a surprise to discover that Lindy’s living in Seattle.”
“Did she tell you she married Rush?”
Carol noted the way his brows drew together and darkened his face momentarily when he mentioned the fact. “I didn’t realize Lindy even knew Rush,” Carol said, and took a sip of the coffee.
“They were married two weeks after they met. Lord, I can’t believe it yet.”
“Two weeks? That doesn’t sound anything like Rush. I remember him as being so methodical about everything.”
Steve’s frown relaxed, but only a little. “Apparently they fell in love.”
Carol knew Steve well enough to recognize the hint of sarcasm in his voice, as if he were telling her what a mockery that emotion was. In their instance it had certainly been wasted. Sadly wasted.
“Are they happy?” That was the important thing as far as Carol was concerned.
“They went through a rough period a while back, but since the Mitchell docked they seem to have mended their fences.”
Carol dropped her gaze to her cup as reality cut sharply into her heart. “That’s more than we did.”
“As you recall,” he said harshly, under his breath, “there wasn’t any fence left to repair. The night you started sleeping with Todd Larson, you destroyed our marriage.”
Carol didn’t rise to the challenge, although Steve had all but slapped her face with it. There was nothing she could say to exonerate herself, and she’d given up explaining the facts to him more than a year ago. Steve chose to believe what he wanted. She’d tried, God knew, to set the record straight. Todd had been her employer and her friend, but never anything more. Carol had pleaded with Steve until she was blue with exasperation, but it hadn’t done her any good. Rehashing the same argument now wasn’t going to help either of them.
Silence stretched between them and was broken by the waitress who had returned to their booth, pad and pen in hand. “Have you decided?”
Carol hadn’t even glanced at the menu. “Do you have sweet-potato pie?”
“No, but pecan is the special this month.”
Carol shook her head, ignoring the strange look Steve was giving her. “Just coffee then.”
“Same here,” Steve added.
The woman replenished both their cups and left.
“So how is good ol’ Todd?”
His question lacked any real interest, and Carol had already decided her former boss was a subject they’d best avoid. “Fine,” she lied. She had no idea how Todd was doing, since she hadn’t worked for Larson Sporting Goods for over a year. She’d been offered a better job with Boeing and had been employed at the airplane company since before the divorce was final.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Steve said with a soft snicker. “I suppose you called this little meeting to tell me the two of you are finally going to be married.”
“No. Steve, please, I didn’t call to talk about Todd.”
He arched his brows in mock consternation. “I’m surprised. What’s the matter, is wife number one still giving him problems? You mean to tell me their divorce hasn’t gone through?”
A shattering feeling of hopelessness nearly choked Carol, and she struggled to meet his gaze without flinching. Steve was still so bitter, so intent on making her suffer.
“I really would prefer it if we didn’t discuss Todd or Joyce.”
“Fine. What do you want to talk about?” He checked his watch as if to announce he had plenty of other things he could be doing and didn’t want to waste precious time with her.
Carol had carefully planned everything she was going to say. Each sentence had been rehearsed several times over in her mind, and now it seemed so trite and ridiculous, she couldn’t manage a single word.
“Well?” he demanded. “Since you don’t want to rub my nose in the fact that you’re marrying Todd, what could you possibly have to tell me?”
Carol gestured with her hand, her fingers trembling. “It’s Christmastime,” she murmured.
“Congratulations, you’ve glanced at a calendar lately.” He looked straight through her with eyes as hard as diamond bits.
“I thought … well, you know, that we could put our differences aside for a little while and at least be civil to each other.”
His eyes narrowed. “What possible reason could there be for us to have anything to do with each other? You mean nothing to me, and I’m sure the feeling is mutual.”
“You were my husband for five years.”
“So?”
She rearranged the silverware several times, choosing not to look at Steve. He wore his anger like a tight pair of shoes and sitting across from him was almost too painful to bear.
“We loved each other once,” she said after a drawn-out, strained moment.
“I loved my dog once, too,” he came back. One corner of his mouth was pulled down, and his eyes had
