Navy Husband

“You know, Tim, it seems to me you’re still in love with your wife,” she commented while he was on his third espresso.



His eyes flared and he adamantly shook his head. “No way.”



“Sorry, but that’s how I see it.”



“You’re wrong.”



“Could be, but it’s obvious you’re crazy about your kids.”



He had no argument with that. “They’re fabulous.”



“So—what else can I do for you?” she asked when he showed no sign of leaving anytime within the foreseeable future.



“You could always go to dinner with me,” he suggested.



Shana laughed, knowing she’d be in for a repeat of his disagreement with the divorce attorney. She gave him an A for effort, though. “I thought we already went over that.”



“Are you sure you mean no?” he asked again.



“If the lady says no, that’s what she means,” Adam Kennedy said from the doorway leading into the restaurant. He glared at Tim as if he wanted to teach him a lesson. His tone was friendly enough, but his demeanor wasn’t. Shana sighed in exasperation. She was all too aware of the interest Catherine and the others were taking in this little scene. Tim was harmless, his self-esteem in shreds following his divorce, and he was counting on Shana to boost his confidence.



“Thank you very much, Adam,” she said tightly, fighting the temptation to say a great deal more, “but the lady can answer for herself.”



To her surprise Jazmine laughed outright. “Hello, Mr. Gilmore, remember me?”



Tim looked as if he didn’t know what to say. He got off the stool. “I guess it’s time to go.”



“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Adam murmured.



“Adam,” Shana chastised, but his gaze didn’t waver from Tim’s face.



As soon as the other man was out the door, Shana whirled on Adam. “That was completely unnecessary and uncalled for,” she said, trying to keep her voice down in deference to her staff and customers.



Adam looked away. “Perhaps, but I wanted to be sure he got the message.”



“And what exactly is the message?” Shana demanded.



Adam grinned as if the answer should be obvious.



“Hands off,” Jazmine supplied. “You’re already spoken for.”



With her shift over, Ali went to check on Commander Dillon one last time and discovered he was asleep. His face was turned toward her and in slumber his features had relaxed. He looked younger than she’d first assumed.



As she stood there, Ali hesitated, resisting the urge to move closer. She longed to place her hand on his arm, to touch him and feel the warmth of his skin. A chill ran down her spine as she remembered he didn’t want her anywhere near him. That had been made abundantly clear during her last visit.



She wished she had someone she could talk to about the way she felt. This wasn’t something she could discuss with the other women on board. She could be putting her career in jeopardy. Any hint of a romantic entanglement, and she could be in more trouble than she wanted to consider.



Before she left, Ali logged on to her computer.



Sent: June 20



From: [email protected]/* */



To: [email protected]/* */



Subject: Hello!



Dear Shana,



Just wanted to see how you’re doing this week. I think of you and Jazmine every day. I’m doing well myself. We had an emergency appendectomy this week—Commander Dillon. I might have mentioned him before. Before he went under, he seemed to think he might not make it, and asked if I’d look after his affairs. I told him I would, but thankfully that wasn’t necessary. He’s recuperating nicely now. I think he’s



Ali hesitated, remembering the intense look in Frank’s eyes as he confessed he had no family. What a lonely life he must lead. Divorced and his brother dead. It didn’t sound as if his parents were still living, either. He’d wanted her to dispose of his earthly goods by giving whatever he had to charity. Ali told herself he didn’t have time to ask anyone else; she’d been handy, so he’d reached out to her. Still, she sensed that he trusted her. They were basically strangers but he felt he could speak to her and that she would follow through with whatever he’d requested. Had it been necessary, she would have.



After a moment’s hesitation, Shana returned to her e-mail. She deleted the last three words and began a new paragraph.



Jazmine mentioned that Adam was stopping by on Saturday. How did that go? I know you think my daughter’s trying to match the two of you up and I agree she has no business doing that. But the truth is, I don’t think it’s such a bad idea.



Adam is a good man and while you might have a dozen excuses not to recognize what a find he is, look again. This is your big sister talking here. I mean it: take a close look at this guy. Adam is easy on the eyes (nice but not essential), he’s intelligent and hardworking and wonderful with kids.



I just hope keeping Jazmine for the next six months will convince you that you want children of your own. I can tell how close the two of you are getting just from the e-mails. It’s almost enough to make me jealous!



Your e-mails mean the world to me. Keep them coming.



Love,



Ali



It didn’t take long for Ali to get a response. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the time difference or if she happened to catch her sister at the computer.



Sent: June 21



From: [email protected]/* */



To: [email protected]/* */



Subject: Commander, you say?



Dear Ali,



No, you didn’t mention anyone named Commander Dillon. What gives? Is he all right? I assume he must be. But the fact that you’re saying anything at all tells me you’re interested in him. This is a development worth watching. I know, I know, all shipboard romances are strictly taboo. But tell me more!



I’m afraid I made an idiot of myself in front of Adam this morning. Trust me, any romantic interest he might have felt toward me is deader than roadkill. I’m such a fool.



All right, all right, I’ll tell you what I did, but you’ve got to promise not to mention it again. I decided he should be aware of Jazmine’s little scheme. That seems only fair, don’t you think?



In retrospect, I still feel it needed to be said but maybe I didn’t handle it in the best possible way. When I assured him I wasn’t interested in him, I came off sounding like…I don’t know what. I keep saying it, but this isn’t the right time for me to get involved. It really isn’t, not with just starting this business.



And guess what? Another guy, who was recently divorced, came in later this afternoon and asked me out. I turned him down using the same excuse and felt terrible. (By the way, it’s thanks to the little matchmaker that he knew I was single.)



Oh, and did I mention Brad phoned? Let me tell you that was a short conversation. If I needed confirmation that I did the right thing in breaking up with him, our conversation was it.



Hearing from you is wonderful. Both Jazmine and I miss you terribly. I never realized how much effort went into being a parent. Don’t get me wrong, Jazz is one fabulous kid and I’m crazy about her, but I didn’t have any idea how much my life would change when she came to live with me.



You’re right, Ali, I’m absolutely certain now that I want to be a mother one day. That’s a bit intimidating, though. With everything that’s happened in the last few months, I’ve pushed all thoughts of another relationship out of my mind. I still think I need to wait a while. Is that a biological clock I hear ticking? Not to worry, I have plenty of time. Lots of women have children when they’re in their mid or even late thirties these days.



Nevertheless, I need a while to clear my head. Adam’s attractive, for sure, and I might be interested in Tim if he wasn’t so hung up on his ex-wife. (Tim’s the divorced father I mentioned earlier.)



Write back soon and tell me more about this commander guy. He sounds like one of those mucky-muck officers. Is that good or bad?



Love ya,



Shana



Ali read the e-mail through twice and discovered she was smiling when she finished. She wasn’t going to give up on Shana and Adam just yet.



Chapter Eleven



“It’s summer,” Jazmine announced the first Monday after the end of school. “Uncle Adam’s got three days off. We should all do something special to celebrate.”



Shana hated to discourage Jazmine’s enthusiasm, but she couldn’t leave her restaurant on a whim. “Do something?” she repeated. “Like what?”



That was all the invitation Jazmine needed. She hopped onto the barstool and rested her arms on the counter. “When my dad was stationed in Italy, he took me to Florence right after school was out. We had so much fun, and I saw Michelangelo’s David. It’s really cool, you know?”



“We have some interesting museums in the area,” Shana suggested, but her heart wasn’t in it. Given her druthers, of which she had few, she would opt to visit Victoria, British Columbia. She’d heard it was a lovely city and very English in style.



Jazmine sighed and shook her head. “I’ve been to dozens of museums, but that feels too much like a school outing. This should be special.”



“What about an amusement park?” Perhaps on Sunday Shana could stuff herself into a swimsuit, make Jazmine promise not to take her picture, and they could head for the local water park.



Again Jazmine was less than excited. “I suppose, but I’m looking for something that’s not so…ordinary. Everyone goes to parks. This is a celebration. I survived a new school, made friends and Aunt Shana’s still speaking to me.” She giggled as she said this, and Shana laughed, too.



“We had a bit of a rough start,” Shana acknowledged.



“It took me a while to adjust,” Jazmine admitted in turn. “Uncle Adam helped me.”



“With what, exactly?” She recalled the backpack advice, and the fact that he’d apparently told her to stop matchmaking—hadn’t he?—but she didn’t know what else he’d said.



“Never mind.” Jazmine slid off the barstool. “That’s an idea—I’ll call Uncle Adam.”



“To do what?” Shana asked, but her question went unanswered as Jazmine hurried toward the phone.



“You should take a day just for the two of you,” Catherine suggested, apparently listening in on their conversation. “You’ve been here nearly every day for weeks.”



“New business-owners don’t take days off,” Shana said. It was true that she’d spent every day at the restaurant, although she’d taken brief breaks and nearly one whole Sunday the week before. She’d felt like a new woman afterward. The thought of one entire twenty-four hour period when she didn’t have her hands in pizza dough or her face in a three-gallon container of ice cream sounded heavenly. Getting away was just the respite she needed.



“It isn’t for you as much as your niece,” Catherine continued. “Kind of a reward for doing so well.”