the situation now. He was the battalion commander, being saluted by every single person they passed. She was being saluted as well, of course, since they were the same rank. He loved the way they both raised their right arms in sync and briefly touched the right corners of their brims to return the salutes. He loved the sound of her high heels on the concrete sidewalk. He loved the cool but sunny Texas winter weather. He loved every frigging thing about the whole frigging universe.
Juliet Grayson was here.
She stopped beside his vehicle. Since it was parked in a spot marked Battalion Commander, it was no surprise that she guessed which vehicle was his.
“A Corvette,” she said with a little laugh.
The memory was so clear, it was incredible that he’d forgotten it until this second. He laughed, too, and imitated the frustrated lament of a college-age Juliet. “Why is such a sexy car always driven by somebody old enough to be my grandfather?”
She shrugged a shoulder as she traced one metal curve, but her lips twitched with mischief. “I was right, you know. When I saw this car on my way into the building, I had a moment of worry that you were ready to retire to Florida.”
“Not yet. Nor for a long while.” He watched her feminine fingers sliding along his sports car. “We can enjoy this while we’re still young.”
Her fingers paused. That brief, familiar flash of Juliet’s teasing smile disappeared, leaving something more polite, more distant. “Unfortunately, they haven’t invented a Corvette with more than two seats. We’ll have to use my car when we go anywhere together. Party of three, not two.”
“Makes sense.” But he would take her for a long drive, just the two of them, top down, engine purring. Soon.
“School lets out in forty-five minutes,” she said.
He checked his watch, a simple reflex. The second hand swept in its circle. The minute hand had moved just a quarter of an hour since he’d last checked the time. Juliet had walked into his office fifteen minutes ago. It hit him hard: his life was never going to be the same from this moment on. In less than a quarter of an hour, everything had changed.
Was it possible for life to take a turn for the better so suddenly?
God knew it could turn bad in less time than that. A car accident could alter the course of a life in the second it took tires to screech and metal to crunch. An explosion could shatter the monotony of a base camp overseas. One minute, life was fine, and in the next, it would never be the same. He’d seen it happen enough times to enough people. They could pinpoint the exact moment their life had abruptly been set on a new path. Whether one of nightmares or prosthetic limbs, regrets or rehab, they hadn’t been ready for the sharp turn. No one was ever ready.
Evan hadn’t expected his life to take a sharp turn today for better or for worse. But as Juliet stood by his Corvette and told him about school schedules—spring sports teams had started practicing, but games didn’t start for two weeks—he knew his life would never be the same again. He’d been a confirmed bachelor fifteen minutes ago; Juliet Grayson had set a silver insignia on his desk, and now he was going to be a husband and a father—or rather, a stepfather. A family man.
Finally.
The euphoria took him utterly by surprise.
“Juliet.” Damn it—were his hands shaking? He clasped them behind his back, a soldier’s stance, parade rest.
Juliet had fallen silent at the way he’d said her name.
He forced himself to relax. At ease.
She was waiting for him to say something else. How many times had he seen her look at him just like this? Waiting for him to help her haul somebody’s parents’ used couch up a flight of stairs. Waiting for him to pour some rum they were too young to have into her can of Coke at a party that wasn’t supposed to be held in the dorm. Waiting for him to dance with her by a fountain on the green.
“What, Evan?”
I feel like I’ve been waiting my entire life for this minute.
He couldn’t say that. He couldn’t say anything. He could only look at her—he couldn’t look away from her, a vibrant, vital woman who was about to become a vibrant, vital part of his life, a life that had just changed radically.
He forced himself to speak, even if emotion made his voice a little too rough, a little too low. “I forgot... I’d forgotten how you looked.” I forced myself not to think about it.
“Oh.”
“I’m saying this wrong. I didn’t forget what you looked like,” he admitted to her. To himself. “I forgot how it was. How good it was to have you as my friend. How good it is to have you here, standing right here. To watch your face as you talk. To hear your voice. It’s—”
“I know what you mean. It’s really different to see you in 3-D after so many years of only having those old photos from college.”
She’d looked at photos of him, for years.
He could not touch her. Not here. Not now. But soon.
She’d come to get him at his own office, a very Juliet move. When she wanted something, she’d always gone out and gotten it. And now she wanted him.
She could have him.
“I’m overwhelmed.” His voice was still rough, but he was sure now what he meant to say. “I can’t get enough of looking at you. I’m overwhelmed that I’m going to have such a very beautiful wife.”
She closed her eyes. He watched her hand close into a fist on the roof of his Corvette, and then she spoke, although there was a note in her voice that didn’t quite sound like any note he’d heard from her before. “Do you think this Corvette could get us to the courthouse and back in forty-five minutes?”
At that, he laughed—and stepped back from her. “Don’t tempt me.”
She looked at him then, and damn near blushed—no, she did blush, heat reddening her cheeks on this cool February day. This senior army officer, with her overseas stripes on her sleeve and her chest full of ribbons and medals, was blushing.
She kept her chin up and her eyes on him. Not a blush; she was flushed. That note in her voice hadn’t sounded familiar because it held arousal, the anticipation of passion, and she’d never spoken to him that way in college. Everything in him tightened in response, but he was standing in his battalion’s parking lot.
“I looked it up, and the courthouse is open until five,” Juliet said, but despite any flush of desire, her tone had already changed. More practical, less passionate. “But they stop issuing marriage licenses at four thirty. We’d have to rush.”
“You’re serious.”
“There’s a three-day waiting period in Texas, but they’ll waive it because we’re active-duty military.”
The caveman part of him wanted to rush her into the car and take her to the nearest judge to claim her as his, permanently, but he was too experienced, too well trained by the army to do anything but think coolly when emotions were running hot.
