Strategic Engagement
Would Daniel find some hot-tub Hannah woman to share his life with and ease his load? Would the woman love these two precious little boys?
And one very grown man.
"Okay, fair's fair." Darcy's voice sliced through the green haze of jealousy. "I've ponied up some gossip, now how about trade some in return. Starting with how you met Danny."
Mary Elise yanked her gaze off broad bare shoulders and over to the hostess snacking on sunflower seeds with undisguised curiosity. What would it hurt to share a few harmless stories? She could leave something of herself behind in his world from her younger days, the part of her that had been fearless, strong. Willing to risk the occasional broken bone or heart.
"We grew up together." Mary Elise searched for words to explain a relationship she wasn't certain she understood anymore. She stared out over the beachy expanse, the winding island coastline glittering with lights.
When Darcy's fiancé eased into view, Mary Elise couldn't help but welcome the distraction. She scrambled to gather thoughts scattered further than the expanse of ocean with tiny dolphin fins slicing lazy paths in the moonlit distance.
Silently Spike dropped a quick kiss on Darcy's mouth, the wren tattooed over his heart proclaiming his devotion as loud as any bullhorn. "You got the party for a while?"
"Yeah, hon, everything's winding up."
"Thanks. And no grilling the guests, okay?"
She slugged his tattooed arm, dead center on the diver-down symbol. "Love ya."
"You, too." He dropped another kiss on her lips before sprinting away.
So much devotion glowed in the woman's eyes, as she watched her spike-haired fiancé hop the fence to make his way toward the ocean, that Mary Elise felt like an intruder. "Why don't you go join him? I'm fine on my own."
Darcy shifted her attention back. "No way. We're having girl talk, and God knows I don't get much of that around these bozos." She shook her head. "Honestly, Max was pretty much an antisocial hermit when I met him. And while he's come out somewhat, he still needs his cave time on occasion. He has a cabin on one of the more remote spots of a barrier island for when the suffer dude within him needs to have a Poseidon moment," she explained with an understanding that boded well for the long term.
"I'm sure he appreciates your accepting him as he is."
"He does. And honest to God, it's a two-way street. He's given up so much for me, changing jobs, relocating from the West Coast to Charleston. He even wears a coat and tie to work when he's not out on assignment."
Darcy reached across to Austin to smooth baby-soft curls, a wistful look in her eyes. Her hand fell back to her lap. "Okay, I confess, I'm so ga-ga happy with Max I can't help but see romance everywhere. But folks really are dying to learn more about you two."
"Guess my calling him Danny gave things away." In spite of her decision to share, Mary Elise found the words tougher to spill than she'd thought. She seldom granted herself permission to look back on those times. Hadn't dared look, knowing the strong person Danny had challenged her to be then might not approve of the more cautious creature she'd become.
"We call him lots of things. But never Danny."
"Old habits are hard to break." In more ways than one. She forced herself not to let her eyes linger on the crinkle in the corner of Daniel's eyes as he smiled. "My family moved down south when I was eight. My mother's lung specialist was located in Savannah, so my father made the transfer there."
"Crusty's from Savannah? I thought he might be from the South with that hint of an accent, but I wasn't sure."
A twinge of surprise nipped her. Danny seemed close to these people, and yet they didn't even know the most basic facts about his background. "We were neighbors. Best friends since elementary school."
Laughter rode the wind, Bo flirting with Hannah as she cooed over his generosity with the bicycles.
Mary Elise smiled, pool memories merging with bike-riding jaunts. "Daniel even taught me to ride a bicycle. I was catching a lot of ribbing from the neighbors over being eight and still using training wheels. I'd fallen once before." She pointed to the scar on her knee. "One day he got a wrench and took off the training wheels, presenting me with my shiny, dangerous two-wheeler. No way did I want to climb back on that bike again. But somehow when Danny told me I could do it, that this time would be different, I believed him."
Again Daniel scooped a passing Trey into the air for a cannonball splash, but without any repeat protests from Trey. Daniel inspired trust with his oozing confidence and invincibility. Only, the stakes were so much higher now than a dunking or scraped knee.
Darcy angled back on her elbows. "I can just see you sailing down that sidewalk, red pigtails streaming behind you while Danny whooped it up cheering you on."
Mary Elise smiled at the memory close to the one Darcy described. Those soaring two minutes of freedom were incredible. Until… "I broke my wrist."
Handful of sunflower seeds pausing midway to her mouth, Darcy flinched. "Ouch."
Mary Elise nodded. He'd gotten her right back on that bike again the minute her cast had been sawed off, albeit running alongside her to steady the handlebars. But unbending in his assertion that she could do it. She wasn't going to enter the fourth grade with training wheels.
"I was a real klutz in those days, arms and legs tangling. I did fine pedaling downhill on the straight and narrow, but once it came time to turn. Bam. Right into a hundred-year-old tree. Man, did his father ever chew him out."
"Kinda like Darth did today at the squadron."
"Darth?"
Darcy rolled her eyes. "Our private name for the new Squadron Commander. Daniel decided Evil Emperor was too long and opted for Darth, as in Darth Vader."
Mary Elise shivered, remembering well the stealthy man on the runway, dark, a little menacing—and conspicuously absent from a gathering where even the prior Squadron Commander had attended.
How bad had the reaming been? Yet Danny hadn't shown the slightest sign of tension all afternoon while shopping. Had he needed support or a confidant earlier, and she'd been too wrapped up in her own problems to notice? She would have never let that happen in the old days.
Of course they'd been more in tune with each other then. Still, she was surprised how much it ruffled her feathers to think of someone giving him a hard time. "Is he in trouble at work over the flight?"
"Sort of, but not really." Darcy waggled her hand. "Crusty has … connections. And he knows how to skirt the rules, push some boundaries, but he's careful not to risk his job by stepping over the line."
Apparently, Daniel hadn't changed much after all, merely upped the stakes of his boundary pushing.
Darcy laced her fingers over her stomach. "Sometimes Crusty reminds me of my Max, willing to bypass recognition for the higher good of the mission. Men like those two don't care about pinning on general. And from the shadows they make the world a better place."
A faraway smile played with her face before she turned to Mary Elise. "So? Will you be sticking around here? There's always a market for good teachers, and with your overseas experience—"
"I'm not staying." Enough confiding. She needed to erect some barriers before she slipped into Daniel's world along with those stories. Mary Elise cuddled the warm weight of sleeping Austin closer, her arms already aching at the impending emptiness.
"Does Crusty know that?"
"He will."
Across the chlorine waters, Daniel's eyes met hers. Held. Mesmerizing. Unrelenting.
For all his easygoing ways, Mary Elise knew Danny possessed a steely will. Well, so did she now—at least when it came to keeping herself and those around her safe. She just hoped the battle took place with them both wearing a few more clothes.
Friendship could sure be a mixed blessing.
Walking beside Mary Elise in the late-night surf, Daniel wasn't certain whether to thank or curse his squadron buds. As if Darcy and Spike hadn't already done enough for him, now they insisted on watching Trey and Austin while the boys slept so Daniel and Mary Elise could take a breather. Stroll down the beach. In the moonlight. Alone but for the occasional passerby and dim lights of distant houses.Thanks, pals. He jammed his fists into the pockets of his damp cutoffs. Clammy jean shorts didn't help cool the steam of frustration. The need to act.
Moored sailboats bobbed, wind snapping and pinging slack lines against the masts in an erratic tune. More than a walk, he wanted a solid twenty minutes with Max for feedback on the answering machine message from his father. Could be nothing. Could be something. He should be talking to Max. Or loading new games on his computer for the boys. Or plotting out flight plans to Timbuktu, just in case he got any ridiculous ideas about his new house-guest.
Anything except taking a cornball, romantic, seaside walk with Mary Elise, their shoulders brushing every other step.
He kept his eyes locked on a wooden dock fingering into the ocean. Yeah, he needed to make something happen, take action. Now would be the perfect time to lock in persuading Mary Elise to stay in the area. For the boys. Not for more moonlit walks and shared peanut butter Pop-Tarts, damn it.
Practical, right? He would still manage the boys on his own, but could check in with Mary Elise. Maybe they could find that friendship again. As adults. Wiser adults. Without the messy emotions. He opened his mouth—
"You are loved, Danny."
His jaw slammed shut. He risked a look at moonlit Mary Elise. "Uh, wanna run that by me again?"
She slung her hair over her shoulder, the gentle curves of her br**sts straining against silk as creamy as her skin. "All these people jumping right in to help you. It's amazing to see how quickly they turned out with the perfect presents. More than just liking you, they know you and perceived your needs. That's a rare gift and you have it in abundance."
He might not be the most sensitive guy on the planet, but even he could see the woman had her brain wrapped around something heavy. Upsetting.
Please, Lord, no team. Those made him long for the bottom of a pool more than discussions of "not swimming."
And then the memory hit him. An image of Darcy leaning over the porch rail to shout her announcement of a baby shower, tension promptly rippling up Mary Elise's spine. "Are you okay?"
"What do you mean?"
Hell, even he'd been knocked back a step by the notion of attending a baby shower with Mary Elise eleven years too late. "I gotta admit the whole baby-shower thing blindsided me."
She strolled without speaking, her arms swinging as she splashed through the low sipping surf. Suddenly he found something he feared more than her tears—knowing she might have tears locked inside. The girl who'd been a willing crusader for others had always been reluctant to share her own fears.
Words he hadn't known were within him churned. Wanted out. More of that old connection urged him to fill the silence rife with her hurt. Even if he was eleven years too late in addressing a subject that no amount of backpedaling could fix.
For a man who thrived on logical solutions, that bit.
Once upon a time prior to their sexual marathon days, they'd been able to talk about anything. Surely he could recapture that ease for a short walk.
For Mary Elise, he pushed the churning words free. "I think about him or her sometimes. Wonder what our kid would have looked like. What we'd be doing now, if…" And the question he wondered about most, even if he suspected the answer. "Whether you and I would have made it."
She tipped her face up to his, red hair streaming across skin turned translucent in the moonlight. "Likely not."
Regret dulled her eyes, stirring protector instincts stronger than any he'd felt in a job that had taken him to some of the most twisted hellholes of the world. He wanted to fight a tangible battle to swipe away the stain in her eyes from memories past. Which of course meant taking on himself.