Navy Wife. Debbie Macomber

doesn’t look like you’re going to need stitches.”

      Lindy expelled a sigh of relief. With no health insurance, a simple call to the hospital emergency room would quickly deplete her limited funds. And although her parents were willing, Lindy didn’t want to ask them for money.

      “Here.” With a tenderness she hadn’t expected from Rush, he reached for a clean towel and carefully wrapped it around her hand. “It looks like the bleeding has stopped. Wait here and I’ll get a bandage.”

      It was all Lindy could do to nod. She felt incredibly silly now, placing the blame on him for having a sharp knife. He left her and returned a couple of minutes later with some gauze and tape.

      “I didn’t mean what I said about this being your fault,” she told him, raising her eyes to meet his.

      His eyes widened momentarily, and then a smile flickered in their blue depths. “I know,” was all he said.

      Although she was willing to credit her loss of blood with the stunning effect of his smile, there was no discounting the way her heart and head reacted. The simple action left Lindy warmed in its afterglow long after her finger was bandaged.

      Three days passed and Rush and Lindy became a little more comfortable with each other. There were still a few awkward moments, but Lindy discovered that they could at least sit across the table from each other and carry on a decent conversation without risking an argument.

      Rush tended to stay out of her way—and she, his—but there were certain times of the day when meeting was inevitable. In the mornings when they were both hurrying to get ready to leave the apartment, for instance. Twice Rush had gone out in the evening, leaving abruptly without a word. Lindy hadn’t asked where he went and he didn’t volunteer the information, but Lindy had the impression that he was simply avoiding being at close quarters with her.

      Since it seemed silly for them to cook separate meals, they’d reached an agreement that Lindy would prepare the meals and Rush would do the dishes.

      Rush was sitting in the living room when Lindy let herself into the apartment on Friday afternoon. She tossed her purse aside and slumped down on the opposite end of the sofa away from him.

      “Any luck?” he asked in a conversational way, watching her.

      Lindy noted that he looked tired and frustrated. “No, but I’m hoping everything will come together at the interview on Monday.”

      He stood, rammed his hands into his pockets and looked away from her, staring out the window. “I’m not exactly filled with good news myself.”

      “Oh?” She studied him closely, wondering at his strange mood.

      “Without going into a lot of detail,” he said, his voice tight, “the problem holding up the Mitchell isn’t going to be easily fixed.”

      Lindy nodded and drew in a ragged breath, not sure what was coming next.

      “It’s going to take as long as a month to have the parts flown in,” he continued.

      “I see.” She straightened and brushed aside a crease in her blue skirt, her fingers lingering over the material. “I suppose this means you want me to leave then, doesn’t it?”

      Chapter 3

      “Leave?” Rush echoed, looking both surprised and angry.

      Lindy bounded to her feet, her hands clenched at her sides in tight fists. “It’s a perfectly logical question, so don’t snap at me.”

      “I’m not snapping.”

      “A turtle couldn’t do it better.”

      “Are you always this prickly or is it something about me?” He was glaring at her, demanding a response, the look in his eyes hot enough to boil water.

      Although his voice was deliberately expressionless and quiet, Lindy knew by the tight set of his jaw that he was getting madder by the minute. Not that she cared. The man drove her absolutely loony. She’d never known anyone who could control his emotions the way Rush did. Oh sure, he laughed, he smiled, he talked, he argued, but in the entire four days that she’d been living in the apartment with him, he’d revealed as much sentiment as a wooden Indian. Even when she’d cut her finger and hopped around the kitchen like a crazed kangaroo, he’d been as calm and collected as though he handled hurting, frightened women every day of his life. Nothing seemed to faze Rush. Nothing.

      “Well, you needn’t worry. I’ll go,” she announced with a proud tilt of her chin. “It won’t be necessary for you to ask twice.” She bent down and reached for the strap of her purse, her heart pounding like a charging locomotive. Moving was something she should have done the minute she realized she wasn’t going to have the apartment to herself.

      “Damn it, Lindy. I didn’t say you had to leave.”

      She blinked. “You didn’t?”

      “No. You jumped to conclusions.”

      “Oh.” Now she felt like a bloody idiot. It was on the tip of her tongue to apologize. She’d had a rough day; the heel had broken off her shoe and the job she’d gone to apply for wasn’t the least bit as it had been advertised. Although they’d offered it to her, she’d decided against it. Good grief. She wouldn’t have been anything more than a glorified desk clerk. Maybe she shouldn’t be so particular, but after four years of college she wanted so much more than to file papers and answer a telephone.

      Maybe she was feeling a little guilty because she’d told Rush she hadn’t had any luck when she’d actually gotten a job offer. And refused it.

      They stood not more than five feet apart and his piercing gaze locked with hers, burning straight through her proud resolve.

      When Lindy spoke her voice was husky with emotion, and her heart began a heavy muted pounding against her rib cage. “I lied.”

      Rush’s eyes clouded, then hardened, and Lindy felt the dread crowd its way into her throat. Rush wasn’t the type of man who would take something like this lightly.

      “What did you lie about?”

      “I got offered a job today. I turned it down.” With her long tapered nails biting into the flesh of her palms, she explained the circumstances. “I thought you should know because…well, because I plan to rent my own place as soon as I can after I find something. But it looks like I could be around awhile.”

      A smile flickered over his lips and he appeared to relax a little. “I can stand it if you can.”

      “That’s debatable.”

      They were both grinning then, and Lindy felt the uneasy tension seep from her limbs. Now that she’d explained things to Rush she felt much better. In fact, possibly for the first time, she was completely at ease with him. It wasn’t that he intimidated her so much as he challenged her. She felt as if she had to be constantly on her guard with him. Watch her step, keep the peace—that sort of thing.

      “You must be hungry.” she said, turning toward the kitchen. “I’ll get dinner going.”

      “Lindy.”

      She twisted around, her eyes questioning.

      “Since it’s Friday and we’ve both had a trying week, how about going out for a pizza?”

      The minute Rush issued the invitation, he was convinced he’d done the wrong thing. His biggest concern was that he was giving Lindy the wrong impression. When the repairs on the Mitchell were finished he’d be leaving, and he didn’t want to give his best friend’s sister the idea that there could ever be anything romantic between them. The circumstances in which they were living were tempting enough, and here he was adding to the tension by deepening the relationship to something beyond their polite but strained friendship.

      Hell, he wasn’t even sure why he’d suggested