Navy Husband

“I’m not the one who drove down to visit an old lover. You never did say how things went between you and Bernie.”



“It’s Brad,” she corrected. “And you’re right, I didn’t.”



He waited, unwilling to cut off the conversation and at the same time reluctant to continue trading barbs.



“Isn’t this all a little silly?” Shana asked.



“When did you decide to go?”



“In the morning. It was a spur-of-the-moment idea. Jazmine and I spent the night with an old friend—an old female friend,” she added. “I saw Brad and we talked.”



“About what?” He didn’t mean to ask and wanted to withdraw the question the moment it left his mouth.



She paused, taking a moment before she answered. “I don’t remember if I told you I moved to Seattle in kind of a rush.”



“You might’ve said something like that.” He tried to play it cool, but the truth was, he hung on every word.



“So I needed to see Brad.”



“I’m sure you did,” he muttered, unable to disguise his sarcasm.



His comment generated a lengthy silence. “We had a chance to talk and to say certain things that needed to be said,” she finally told him.



She didn’t enlighten him as to what those things might be. “So you’re back in Seattle?”



“Yes. I have to go now. The only reason I phoned,” she said, “is to thank you for the leis. Jazmine and I love them. Now I should get back to work.”



Adam had to bite his tongue to keep from pleading with her to stay on the phone a bit longer. He wished they could start the entire conversation over.



“How’s Jazmine?” he asked, using the question as a delaying tactic.



“Fabulous…wonderful. Thank you again for the orchids.”



And with that, the line was disconnected. He waited a few seconds while the buzz sounded in his ear. Adam replaced the receiver and glared at the phone as he replayed the conversation. He knew he’d made a number of tactical errors, and that was because his ego had gotten in the way.



“So, how’d it go?” John asked conversationally.



“Not good.”



“Sorry to hear that. I told you—women mess with your mind. You should’ve figured that out by now.”



John was right; he should have.



The tension in Adam’s stomach didn’t diminish all day. At the end of his watch, he returned to his quarters to find the message light on his phone blinking. It was too much to hope that Shana had called him a second time. Holding his breath, he pressed the message button.



Jazmine’s voice greeted him. “Uncle Adam, what’s with you? You’ve really blown it now. Call me at the house when you get home. I’ll make sure I answer.”



Adam reached for the phone. Here he was, conspiring with a nine-year-old. That was a sign of desperation.



Chapter Twenty-Two



Ali was quite entertained by the tone of Shana’s e-mails in the last week. Her sister was not in a good mood. She’d only brought up Adam’s name once, but Ali was well aware that the lieutenant commander was the sole source of Shana’s irritation.



Thankfully, Jazmine had been able to fill Ali in. Apparently Adam and Shana had some form of falling-out. Shana had driven to Portland to say a final goodbye to Brad, and Adam was out of sorts about it. From what Jazmine said, they were currently ignoring each other.



Ali didn’t usually meddle in other people’s romances. She hadn’t said anything when Shana was involved with Brad, and she wouldn’t interfere now. At least she didn’t think she would. But those two were perfect together, and it would be a shame if this relationship died because they were too stubborn to admit they were attracted to each other. Although Ali suspected that their feelings had gone way beyond attraction…



Preoccupied, she walked toward the wardroom. She generally ate with the other officers at six every evening, but tonight she was later than usual. Life at sea had grown monotonous, and the days seemed to run into each other without any real break to distinguish one from the next. When she entered the room, there were a few officers at various tables, but she noticed only one.



Commander Frank Dillon.



Ali hadn’t seen or talked to him since they’d met in the Farmer’s Market in Guam. Just seeing him again gave her pause. She’d thought about their brief conversation that very afternoon; even now she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Her friends, too, were full of questions she hadn’t been able to answer. Ali filled her tray and started for a table.



“Good evening, Commander,” she said, greeting him.



“Ali.” He didn’t look any too pleased to see her, if his scowl was any indication.



She sat down several tables away, but facing him. It would be utterly rude to present him with her back. “I do hope you’ve sufficiently recovered.” Ali knew she sounded stilted but couldn’t help it. She avoided eye contact by reaching for the salt shaker.



“I have, thank you. And you?”



His question caught her unawares. “I haven’t been ill, Commander.”



“Yes, of course.” He stood as if he couldn’t leave fast enough and disappeared with such speed, it made her head swim. Clearly she was the last person he wanted to see. Only this time, Ali didn’t take offense.



She’d come to the conclusion that she flustered Commander Dillon, which was a heady sensation. She recalled how gruff and rude he’d been in sick bay and, thanks to their brief conversation on Guam, she finally understood the reason. He’d thought she was married.



The next evening, Alison purposely delayed her meal and arrived at the same time as the night before. Sure enough Frank was there, sitting at the same table, lingering over coffee. He looked up and smiled uncertainly when he saw her.



“Good evening, Commander.” She greeted him the same way she had the previous night. After getting her meal, she chose a seat one table closer.



“Lieutenant Commander.” His eyes held hers, and he didn’t immediately leap up and run away.



“I have a question for you,” she said and again reached for the salt shaker. It was a convenient excuse to avert her gaze. She feared he might read her intense interest in him, which seemed to compound after each meeting.



He straightened. “Fire away.”



“Do I frighten you?”



He raised one eyebrow. “Truthfully? You terrify me.”



“Any particular reason?”



He expelled his breath. “As a matter of fact, there are several. Most of them would get me court-martialed if I mentioned them.”



“I see.” She didn’t really, but she was definitely curious.



“Does that amuse you?” he asked, his face deadpan.



“Commander, are you flirting with me?”



This question seemed to take him aback, and he frowned. “I can assure you I wouldn’t know how. Is that what you think I’m doing?”



She shook her head. “I’m not sure, but I do have another question for you.”



“All right. I just hope it isn’t as difficult as the first.” A hint of a smile touched his eyes.



Alison dipped her fork into the creamy mashed potatoes. “I wonder, do you know anything about a bolt of red silk that was delivered to the ship in my name?”



“Red silk?” He shrugged. “I’m afraid I can’t help you there.”



“That isn’t an answer to my question, Commander.”



He glanced at his watch, and as if he’d suddenly realized he was late for an important meeting, abruptly stood. He grabbed his coffee cup and took one last swallow before he excused himself and hurried away.



Alison hadn’t known what to think when the silk had appeared in her quarters. She was able to track down the petty officer who delivered it, and learned that the man from the market had brought it to the docks. He’d left instructions that it should be taken directly to her. Alison had badly wanted that silk, but the price was more than she’d been willing to pay.



Just before she drifted off to sleep the night before, she’d remembered haggling with the silk merchant just before she’d run into Frank. He must have purchased it for her. It was the only thing that made sense—and yet it didn’t. But judging by the way he’d reacted to her questions this evening, she had to wonder.



The following night when Alison arrived at the wardroom, Frank wasn’t there. Her heart sank with disappointment. She really didn’t have much of an appetite and ate very little of her meal. She’d almost decided against coffee but it was her habit to end her dinner with a cup.



Just when she was ready to leave, uninterested in the remains of her cooling coffee, Frank rushed in, looking harried.



“Good evening, Commander,” Alison said, smiling her welcome. Hiding her pleasure at seeing him had become impossible.



He poured himself a cup of coffee and joined her. This was progress. They’d begun by sitting several tables apart and had drawn closer with each encounter.



He was silent for a few minutes, concentrating on his coffee, methodically adding sugar and cream, then stirring. “You have children?” he asked unexpectedly.



“A nine-year-old daughter.”



He nodded.



“Jazmine is living with my sister in Seattle right now.”



He nodded again. “Is this the first time you’ve been apart for so much time?”



“Yes.” Then, feeling it was only fair that she be completely honest, Alison said, “This will be my last duty assignment.”



“You’re leaving the Navy?” He made it sound like an incomprehensible decision.



“My husband loved the Navy the way you do. He couldn’t imagine civilian life.”



“Can you?” he asked.



“No. But it’s something I have to do.” The Navy had shaped her life, but now she had to put Jazmine’s welfare first. She was proud of how well her daughter had adjusted to a new environment, but a child needed roots and stability. Alison felt obliged to provide that, especially since she’d become, however unwillingly, a single parent.



“Where will you settle?” Frank asked.



“I haven’t decided yet. I’m considering Seattle. Jazmine seems to like it there, and it’s where my sister lives.”



“Is she married?”



“Single,” Ali explained. “But she’s romantically involved with someone.”



Frank stared down into his coffee, cupped between his outstretched hands. “I don’t know much about romance.” He took a swig of coffee. “I’m pretty much a failure in that department.”



“You’re divorced, aren’t you?” She recalled that he’d told her this.



“A long time now.”



Alison studied him as he sipped his coffee. “Given up, have you?”



He raised his head, his gaze burning into hers. “Until recently I had.” His shoulders rose as if he was taking in a deep breath. “It’s not appropriate to ask now, but I was wondering…I was thinking that in a few months, when you’ve…resigned your commission, you might consider going to dinner with me. It wouldn’t mean anything. I mean, there’d be no obligation on either part, and if you’re not ready—”