help you? Oh, hello, Mrs. Brisbane.”
Mitch retreated from the counter, captivated by Kelly’s warm, sweet voice. It was still the same.
She was not—quiet, yes, sweet, yes, but wounded. So, what had happened?
Years ago, the first time he’d come home on a much-deserved quick break from his Force Recon training, he’d gotten up the courage to ask his mom first about any hometown news. And then about Kelly in particular.
She’s marrying that McKaslin boy she’s been dating, Mom had said.
Married. That word had struck him like a bullet against a flak jacket and he’d hidden his disappointment. That had been the last time he’d asked about Kelly Logan.
She wasn’t married now, whatever had happened. As he sank into the rows of books, he cast another glance in Kelly’s direction. Her gentle tone continued. Clearly she knew and liked the customer who’d called. But this didn’t interest him so much as what he could read by simply looking at her. The way she held herself so tightly and defensively, as if she were protecting the deepest places in her heart. The way her smile didn’t reach her pretty blue eyes. Sadness clung to the corners of her soft mouth and made her wide almond-shaped eyes look too big in her fragile heart-shaped face.
How much of that sadness had he made worse by putting his foot in his mouth? Troubled, he turned his back, determined to leave thoughts of the woman behind, but they followed him through the long shelves of Bibles and into the Christian fiction rows. He still reeled from the raw pain he’d recognized in Kelly’s eyes.
He’d been so wrapped up in his life, in his demanding job and nearly constant deployments, that he’d almost forgotten that heartbreak and tragedy happened off the battlefield, too.
Pain. He hated that she’d been hurt. He hated that he’d been the one to bring up the past. He should have looked at her hand first, the ringless left hand she’d been trying to hide from him, before he’d said anything. Something had happened to her, something painful, and he was sorry about that.
Wasn’t pain the result of relationships? He saw it all the time. Marriages failed all around him, it happened to his friends, his team members, marines he barely knew and to his commanding officers.
Between the betrayal when a spouse broke wedding vows or changed into a different person, and the grief when love ended, he didn’t know how anyone could give their hearts at all, ever, knowing the risks. Knowing the pain.
That was why he kept clear of relationships. Not only did he not have much free time to get to know a woman, but he wondered how anyone knew when it was the real thing—the kind of love that lasted, the kind his parents had—or the kind of relationship that ended with devastation.
Either way, it was a lot more risk than he’d felt comfortable with.
So, why was he searching for a view of Kelly? From where he stood, the solid wooden bookshelves blocked the front counter, so he stepped a little to his left until he could see her reflected in the glass like a mirror. Perfect.
He wanted to say it was guilt, of bringing up something painful that had happened with Joe, that made him notice the way the soft fluff of her golden bangs covered her forehead and framed her big, wide eyes. And how the curve of her cheek and jaw looked as smooth as rose petals. Her hair curled past her jawline and fell against the graceful line of her neck to curl against the lace of her blouse’s collar.
But that wasn’t the truth. Guilt wasn’t why he was noticing her. Concern wasn’t the only reason he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. He was interested. He was stationed here for a short stint, that was all, and he wasn’t looking for anything serious—that was a scary thought.
No, he wasn’t ready for that. He didn’t have time for that. He wasn’t a teenaged kid anymore with an innocent crush, and by the look of things, Kelly’d had her heart broken. She probably wasn’t looking, either.
He’d come here to find a gift—nothing more—and he’d be smart to get to it. That was the sensible thing to do. He wandered back to the aisle of Bibles, determined to keep his attention focused squarely on his difficult mission: finding a suitable birthday gift.
The rustle of her movements jerked his attention back to her. He was at the end of the row, giving him a perfect view of Kelly. She’d hung up the phone and was circling around the edge of the long front counter. She was keeping her eyes low and intentionally not looking his way, but he kept observing her as he went on with his browsing.
He couldn’t say why he watched her as she padded to the far edge of the store. Or why he noticed how elegant she looked in a simple pink cotton blouse and slim khaki pants. It was a mystery. He wanted to attribute it to his training—the marines had trained him well and paid him to observe, but that wasn’t it at all. Not truthfully.
He couldn’t say why, but he listened to the whisper of her movements and kept listening…even after she’d disappeared from his sight.
Chapter Two
Was it her imagination, or was he watching her?
Kelly slipped the inspirational romance from its spot on the shelf. Her gaze shot between the open book bay to watch the hunky soldier’s broad back, which was all she could see of him. Mitch stood with his feet braced apart, browsing through the devotionals display midway across the store.
No, he’s not even looking my way, she thought, shaking her head and hurrying back to the cash desk. Besides, he seemed totally absorbed in his browsing as he set down one book and reached for another. He was the only customer in the store, and if he wasn’t noticing her, then no one was.
Okay, so she was nuts, but she still felt…watched. She remembered the impact of his gaze, and how tangible it had felt. She kept a careful eye on him as she returned to the front.
Although he didn’t lift his head or turn in her direction, she felt monitored the entire time it took for her to write Edith Brisbane’s name on a slip of paper, rubber-band it to the spine of the book and slip it onto the hold shelf.
I know what the problem is, she realized in the middle of shaking an aspirin tablet onto her palm. She was the one noticing him.
Who could blame her? He cut a fine figure in his rugged military uniform, and back in high school she’d always had a secret crush on him. He’d always been a truly nice boy. It looked as if time had only improved him.
As she chased the aspirin down with a few swallows from a small bottle of orange soda, her gaze automatically zoomed across the floor to him. Head bent, he had moved on to amble through the gift section of the store, his attention planted firmly on the rows of porcelain jewelry boxes in front of him. There were two inspirational suspense books tucked in one big hand.
When she looked at him, she could hear his gravelly voice asking again, How’s Joe doing?
It wasn’t his fault, Mitch obviously didn’t know what had happened. But that didn’t make the raw places within her heart hurt any less.
She was no longer a girl who could dream.
She climbed back onto her stool and debated tackling more of her homework, but she wasn’t in the mood to face her math book. She knew that if she sat here trying to solve for x, her attention would just keep drifting over to the impressive warrior. To the
