“Good,” she said, taking a step back, feeling nervous and not knowing how to explain it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow.”
It wasn’t until Erin was inside the elevator, a smile trembling on her lips, that she remembered Marilyn’s parting words from the night before.
Don’t ever fall in love, Marilyn had warned her, it hurts too damn much. Erin felt somewhat comforted to realize she was a long way from falling in love with Brand Davis. But she would definitely have to be careful.
* * *
“Well, is it the way you remembered?” Brand asked after a two-hour tour of Naval Station Puget Sound at Sand Point. He’d given her a history lesson, too. Sand Point had originally been acquired by King County back in 1920 as an airport and later leased to the navy as a reserve. Brand had explained that only a few hundred men were based there now, support personnel for the base at Everett. Brand was assigned to the admiral’s staff—SINCPAC, out of Hawaii—and sent to do an independent study in preparation for the possible closure of the base.
Erin had been on the base itself only a handful of times as a child. It amazed her how familiar the base felt to her, even though it had been sixteen years since she’d moved away from the area.
“It hasn’t changed all that much over the years.”
“That surprises you?”
“Not really.” What did catch her unawares was the feeling of homecoming. There had never been one single base her family had been assigned to through the years that gave Erin this sort of abstract feeling of home. From the time she could remember, her life had belonged to the navy. Her father would receive shipping orders, and without a pause her family would pack up everything they owned and head wherever her father’s commanding officer decreed. Erin had hated it with a fierceness that went beyond description. Nothing was ever her own, there was no sense of permanency in her life, no sense of security. What she had one day—her friends, her school, her neighbors—could be taken from her the next.
Brand’s fingers reached for hers and squeezed tightly. “You look sad.”
“I do?” She forced a note of cheerfulness into her voice, needing to define her feelings. Brand had brought her here. For the first time since she’d left her family, she’d returned to a navy base. She’d agreed to Brand’s suggestion of a tour with flippant disregard for any emotions she might experience.
The wounds of her youth, although she knew she was being somewhat melodramatic to refer to them that way, had been properly bandaged with time. She’d set the course of her life and hadn’t looked back since. Then, out of the blue, Brand Davis had popped in, determined, it seemed, to untie the compress so carefully wrapped around her heart.
As she stood outside the Sand Point grounds, she could almost feel the bandages slackening. Her first instinct was to tug them back into place, but she couldn’t do that with the memories. Happy memories, carefree memories, came at her from every angle. The longer she stood there, the longer she soaked in the feelings, the more likely the bandage was to drop to her feet. Erin couldn’t allow that to happen.
“I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed living in Seattle,” she whispered, barely aware she was speaking.
“Where were you stationed afterward?”
Erin had to think about it. “Guam, as I recall…. No, we went to Alaska first.”
“You hated it there?”
“Not exactly. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t my favorite place in the world, but it was tolerable…. We weren’t there long.” The sun actually did shine at midnight, and the mosquito was teasingly referred to as the Alaska state bird. Actually, Erin had loved Alaska, but they’d been there such a short while.
“How long?”
“Four months, I’d guess. There was some screwup, and almost overnight we were given orders and shipped to Guam. Now that was one place I really did enjoy.”
“Did you ever take picnics on Guam?”
Erin had to think that one over, and she couldn’t actually remember one way or the other. “I suppose we did.”
“And how did you enjoy those?”
Erin glanced in Brand’s direction and studied him through narrowed eyes. “Why do I have the funny feeling this is a leading question?”
“Because it is.” Brand grinned at her, and the sun broke through whatever clouds there were that day. “I packed us a lunch, and I was hoping to persuade you to go on a picnic with me.”
“Where?” Not that it mattered. The question was a delaying tactic to give her time to sort through her scattered feelings. A tour of Sand Point was one thing, but lying down on the grass feeding each other grapes was another.
“Anywhere you want.”
“Ah?” Her mind scurried as she tried to come up with the names of parks, but for the life of her Erin couldn’t remove the picture of Brand pressing a grape to her lips and then bending over to kiss her and share the juicy flavor.
“Erin?”
“How about Woodland Park? If you haven’t visited the zoo, you should. Seattle has one of the country’s best.” That way she could feed the animals and take her mind off Brand. The choice was a good one for another reason, as well. Woodland Park was sure to be crowded on a day as bright and sunny as this one.
Erin was right. They were fortunate to find parking. Brand frowned as he glanced around them, and she could almost hear his thoughts. He’d been hoping she’d lead him to a secluded hideaway, and she’d greatly disappointed him. He might as well become accustomed to it. Erin had agreed to see him again, but she absolutely refused to become romantically involved.
“Just who do you think you’re kidding?” she muttered under her breath. Her stomach had been tied up in knots for the last hour while she’d replayed over and over again in her mind this ridiculous scene about them sharing grapes. For all she knew, he might have brought along apples, or oranges, or omitted fruit altogether.
“You said something?” Brand asked, giving her an odd look.
“No…”
“I thought you did.”
She was going to have to examine this need to talk out loud to herself. As far as she could see, the best tactic was to change the subject. “I’m starved.”
“Me too.” But when he glanced her way, his gaze rested squarely on her mouth, as if to say he was eager to eat all right, but his need wasn’t for food.
* * *
Her beautiful Irish eyes were moody, Brand decided. Moody and guarded. Brand didn’t know what he’d done—or hadn’t done—that disturbed Erin so much. From the moment they’d driven away from the naval station, he’d toyed with the idea of asking her what was wrong. He hadn’t, simply because he knew she’d deny that anything was troubling her.
Brand wasn’t pleased with her choice of parks for their picnic. The zoo was a place for family and kids. He’d be lucky if they found five minutes alone together. But then, that was exactly the reason Erin had chosen it.
Brand, on the other hand, wanted seclusion and privacy. He wanted to kiss Erin again. Hell, he needed to kiss Erin again. The thought had dominated his mind for days. She was so incredibly soft and sweet. He swore he’d never kissed another woman who tasted of honey the way she did. The sample she’d given him hadn’t been nearly enough to satisfy his need. For days he’d been telling himself he’d blown the kiss up in his mind, way out of proportion. Nothing could have been that good.
“Anyplace around here will do,” she said.
He followed her into the park, his gaze scanning the rolling green landscape and falling on a large pond. The space under the trees near the shore looked the most promising. He suggested there.
“Sure,” she responded, but she sounded uncertain.
Brand smoothed out the gray navy-issue blanket on the lawn and set the wicker basket in the center of it.
“If you’d said something earlier, I would have baked brownies,” Erin said, striving, Brand thought, to sound conversational.
“You can next time.” The
implication was there, as blatant as he could make it. He would be seeing her again. Often. As frequently as their schedules allowed. He planned on it, and he wanted her to do the same.
“What did you pack for us?” Her voice sounded hollow, as if it were coming from an abandoned well.
“Nothing all that fabulous.” Kneeling on the blanket, he opened the basket and set out sandwiches, a couple of cans of cold pop, potato chips and two oranges.
Erin’s gaze rested on the oranges for the longest moment. They were the large Florida variety, juicy, she suspected, and sweet.
“Do you want the turkey on white or the corned beef on whole wheat?”
“The turkey,” she answered.
Next Brand opened the chips and handed her the bag. She grabbed a handful and set them on top of a napkin. For all her claims about being famished, Brand noted, she barely touched her food.
He sat, leaning his back against the base of the tree, and stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles. “You’re looking thoughtful.”
Her responding smile was weak. “I…I was just thinking about something one of the women in my class told me.”
“What was that?”
Her head came up, and her gaze collided with his. “Ah…it’s difficult to explain.”
“This class means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
Erin nodded. “One of the women has been on my mind the last couple of days. She hasn’t centered herself yet, and—”
“Centered herself?”
“It’s a counseling term. Basically, what it means is that she hasn’t come to grips with who and what she is and needs to brace herself for whatever comes her way. Right now she’s suffering from shock and emotional pain, and the smallest problem overpowers her. Frankly, I’m worried.”
“Tell me about her.” Brand held out his arm, wanting Erin to scoot close and rest her head on his chest. He’d been looking for a subtle, natural way of doing so without putting Erin on red alert.
He was almost surprised when she did move toward him. She didn’t exactly cuddle up in his arms, but she braced her back against his chest and stretched her legs out in front of her. His arm reached across her shoulder blades.
“She’s taking my class because after thirty-odd years of marriage her husband is leaving her. From what I understand there’s another woman involved.”
“I didn’t know people would divorce after staying married for so many years. Frankly, it doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
“It happens,” Erin explained softly, “more than you’d guess.”
“Go on, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Tell me about…”
“I’ll call her Margo. That isn’t her name, of course.”
Brand nodded. It felt so good to have Erin in his arms. He’d been fantasizing about it for days. The hold wasn’t as intimate as he would have liked, but with this sweet Irish miss he’d need to go slowly.
“She’s in her early fifties and never worked outside the home. All she knows how to be is a homemaker and a wife. I’d venture to guess that she’s never written a check. I know for a fact she doesn’t drive. At a time in her life when she was looking forward to retirement, she needs to find a career and make a home for herself.”
“What about children? Surely, they’d stick by their mother at a time like this.”
“Two daughters. They’re both married and live outside the state. From what I can remember, one lives in California and the other someplace in Texas. Margo’s completely alone, probably for the first time in her life.”
“How’s she handling it?”
“It’s hard to tell. We’re only two classes into the course, but as I said before, she’s shaky and fragile. Time will help.”
“My parents were divorced.” Brand seldom spoke of his family, and even more rarely of the trauma that had ripped his life apart at such a tender age. “I was just a kid at the time.”
“Was it bad?”
He answered her with a short nod. Without a doubt, it was the worst ordeal Brand could ever remember happening to him. His whole world had been shattered. He’d become a weapon to be used against one parent or the other. And he’d only been eleven at the time. Far too young to understand, far too old to cry.
“I rarely saw my father afterward. Every time he and my mother were in the same room together, they’d start arguing. My guess is that it was easier for him to move as far away as possible than to deal with her.”
“So when he divorced your mother, he divorced you, too?”
Once again, Brand responded with a short nod. His life had been filled with one trauma after another after his father had moved out of the state. A year or two later, when his mother had remarried, all communication and child support had stopped. Brand had been made to feel guilty for every bit of food he ate or each pair of shoes he outgrew. While attending college, he’d become involved in the officers’ training program offered by the navy. His life had changed from that moment forward. For the better.
Brand found security and acceptance in the navy. What the military had given him, it had taken away from Erin. He understood her complaints well. She hated moving, never planting roots or building lasting relationships. Brand thrived on the security. The navy was his home. The navy was his life. No one would ever take that away from him. There would always be a navy. Budget cuts hurt, bases were being closed down all across the country and military spending was being decreased, but he was secure, more secure than he had been since childhood.
“But I have a feeling about Margo,” Erin continued. “She’s far stronger than she realizes. That knowledge will come in time, but she may travel some rough waters before this ordeal is finished.”
“You’re strong, too.”
Erin leaned her head to examine his face, and Brand took advantage of the moment to press his hands gently to her rosy cheeks. Her eyes found his, and he read her confusion as clearly as he viewed her eagerness. She wanted this kiss as much as he wanted to kiss her.
Gently he pressed his mouth to hers. The kiss was deep and thorough, his lips sliding across hers with unhurried ease and a familiarity that belied their experience. Slowly he lifted his head and drew in a deep, stabilizing breath. A bolt of sizzling electricity arched between them.
“Oh, damn,” Erin whispered, sounding very much as if she were about to weep. Her eyes remained closed, and Brand was tempted to kiss her moist lips a second time. In fact, he had to restrain himself from doing so.
“Damn?”
“I was afraid of this.” Her words were hoarse, as if she were having trouble speaking. Her eyes fluttered open, and she gazed up longingly at him. Irish eyes. Sweet Irish eyes.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, just before he kissed her a second time. And a third. A fourth. His hands were in her hair, loving the silky feel of it as he ran his fingers through the lengthy curls.
Gradually he felt her opening up to him, like the satin petals of a rosebud. Either she’d had poor teachers or she was inexperienced in the art of kissing. Brand didn’t know which, didn’t care.
Positioned as they were against the tree, he couldn’t get close enough to her. The need to cradle her softness grew until every part of his body ached. He wanted her beneath him, warm and willing. Open and sweet.
With their mouths joined, he rolled away from the tree, taking her with him. Erin gave a small cry of alarm, and when she opened her mouth he groaned and thrust his tongue deep into the moist warmth.
She rebelled for a moment, not having expected this new intimacy. It took her a second to adjust before she responded, meekly at first, by giving him her tongue. They touched, stroked and played against each other in an erotic game until Brand deepened the kiss to a level neither of them would be able to tolerate for long.
Her hands clenched his shirt, and Brand wondered if she could feel how hard and fiercely his heart was beating. He could feel hers, excited and chaotic, pounding against his chest. Her pulse wasn’t the
only thing he could feel. Her nipples had pearled and stood out. The need to slip his hand under her sweater and fill his palm with her breast ate at him like lye. He couldn’t…not here.
He longed to feel her and taste her. Sweet heaven, if he didn’t stop now he’d end up really frightening her. He probably had already. He was as hard as concrete against her thigh. The way they were lying, there wasn’t any way he could hide what she was doing to him. Only years of training and self-discipline kept him still. He longed to rotate his hips to help ease the terrible ache in his loins.
He kissed Erin again, struggling within himself to take it slow and easy. His mouth gentled over hers, in sharp contrast to the wild, uncontrolled kisses they’d shared seconds earlier. She groaned and moved against him, causing Brand to moan himself. His innocent Irish miss hadn’t a clue of the torment she was putting him through. Dear heaven, she was sweet. So warm and moist.
Brand had fully intended to cool their lovemaking, but he made a single tactical error that was nearly his undoing. Just because a kiss was gentle, it didn’t make it any less sensual, or any less devastating.
By the time Brand lifted his head, he was weak, depleted, yet at the same time exhilarated. Shocked eyes stared up at him. He smiled and noted how the edges of her delectable mouth quivered slightly.
She raised her hand, and her fingertips grazed his face. Her touch was as smooth and light as a velvet glove. Unable to resist, Brand kissed her again.
“Are you going to say damn again?” he teased.
Her grin widened. “No.”
“But you should?”
She nodded, then closed her eyes and slowly expelled her breath. “I don’t know how this happened.”
“You don’t?”
“I’d hoped…”
He pressed a finger across her lips. “I know what you hoped! You couldn’t have picked a more public place and for obvious reasons, which I fear have backfired on us both. As it is, I may have to lie on my belly the rest of the afternoon.”
“You will?” As the meaning of his words sank into her brain, Erin’s cheeks blossomed with color. “I…I shouldn’t have said anything.” As if she needed something to occupy her hands, she reached for one of the oranges, peeling it open. She held out a dripping slice to him. “Want one?”