Navy Rescue. Geri Krotow

not alone. And your mother wanted to be here with her husband when you landed, but I convinced them to wait at least a week or two. She’d appreciate a call that you’re here—later, when you’re ready.”

      * * *

      “I AM SO sorry you got saddled with taking me in, Drew.”

      He shrugged. “It’s not a problem.” He shot her a lopsided grin. “You never changed that Page Two, you know.”

      Ah, her Page Two—the second page in any sailor’s service record, but the most important in the event of his or her death. It listed next of kin and who their Service Group Life Insurance was going to.

      “No, I didn’t change it.”

      “You’ve had a busy few years. Your Page Two was an easy thing to forget, although I’m surprised your admin chief didn’t ask you about it.”

      Admin had reminded her, but she’d purposefully kept Drew as the primary beneficiary on her policy after the divorce. She would never have made it this far in her career without him. He deserved it all if she was killed in the line of duty, legal husband or not. Her mother and stepfather were financially secure; they wouldn’t need the money.

      And even if they had, she would’ve kept Drew as her beneficiary. It wasn’t his fault he’d married a woman who was never meant to be married.

      They’d been so young.

      She couldn’t say it. Not again. Not now.

      “If anything happened to me, it would take care of my share of the house. Plus, it’d keep Nappie and Rosie fed and in great toys for the rest of their lives.”

      Drew’s silence proved how crazy she sounded.

      “I’ve changed, Drew. I’m not who I was six months ago.”

      Should she tell him about those thoughts? The visions of them when they’d been in love? Making love.

      Oh, no.

      “You’ve been through a lot, Gwen, and yes, it’s changed you, changed your outlook on things. But trust me, it’s like life on Whidbey. New restaurants pop up, coffee shops switch owners, but the water, the mountains—all the fundamentals are still there. Same as always.”

      “The snow cap on Mt. Baker is shrinking.”

      He grinned. “Well, yeah, there’s that.”

      Standing next to Drew, feeling his warmth, smelling that familiar scent...her head was so heavy and his shoulders would feel so good to lean on.

      It wouldn’t be fair to either of them if she took advantage of the situation.

      “Yeah.” Her voice cracked.

      She couldn’t find the words, didn’t have the energy to explain that she’d changed from the inside out. She’d forfeited any right to accept comfort from Drew the day she’d signed their divorce papers. The things she’d found boring before her ordeal—a safe home, a good meal, time to simply relax—meant the world to her now. She wished she could explain this to him without the risk that he’d think it was PTSD or related emotional upset.

      You’re the only one who needs to know you’ve changed.

      Why did she care whether or not Drew understood she’d turned into a mother, a family woman?

      “I’ll leave you for a while. Take your time. Have a long hot shower if you need it. When you’re ready, I’ll put together some dinner.” He left the room and shut the door behind him.

      The instant quiet scared her. After the incessant humming of bugs, birds and animals she never identified, the silence of the bedroom made her uneasy. At least the hospital had a constant whirr of activity and air systems serving as white noise.

      You’re safe.

      As she’d done these past two weeks of freedom, she forced herself to focus on the next obvious task.

      A hot shower.

      The novelty of readily available water hadn’t worn off yet. She’d never take hot running water for granted again.

      Before she walked into the master bathroom, she tiptoed to the bedroom door and silently turned the handle to open it. Just a crack.

      It was silly and stupid and maybe superstitious, but it made her feel connected to Drew.

      An invisible link could save your life.

      * * *

      DREW FIRED UP the gas grill and used the few minutes outside on the deck to calm down.

      “Damn it.” He spoke under his breath to the trees, the earth, the fates that had blessed him with Gwen’s survival while cursing him with her nearness.

      He really needed a cold shower. Gwen had never stopped turning him on, difficult though it’d been that last year they’d lived together. As the friends they’d become, he knew she was off-limits. That didn’t change his initial reaction to her each time she came over to see the pets, or whenever he ran into her in town. Sexual compatibility had never been a problem for them.

      It was emotional maturity they’d lacked. Apparently, he still hadn’t grown up. He felt lower than a caterpillar, getting turned on by her when she was clearly so fragile. When they both knew where it would all end.

      They’d still be divorced.

      If he was going to be the friend she needed right now, he had to ignore the sexual thoughts that had started the minute he saw her again.

      He had to let go of the way his arms ached to haul her against him. The way he wanted to kiss her. To make love to her until she forgot about the world and everything she’d endured.

      Double damn it.

      When he went back in, he found her sitting at the long kitchen counter that divided the great room. She looked so waifish, all bundled in sweats and perched on the bar stool.

      “You’ve kept the place clean, I’ll give you that.” Wet hair and chapped lips, and she still had her sense of humor.

      “I have help. After you left on deployment my business picked up. I couldn’t keep the house anything close to hygienic on my own.” He offered her a grin. “My talents are limited to folding clean laundry.”

      “You, Mr. I-Can-Do-It-All, hired a housecleaner?”

      “It was a long fall, but I’m tough that way. I can handle it.”

      She giggled, and it was like a blast of tropical wind as his ego reacted to her small sign of pleasure.

      He needed to make sure he kept his distance over these next few weeks or he’d start misinterpreting every little thing she did.

      Gwen had often told him that his sarcasm and arrogance had endeared him to her at first, but grown tedious as the years went by.

      His self-recrimination had passed, though. There was no point in wondering why the heck he’d waited so long to grow up.

      “I’m grilling veggies and chicken—that sound good?”

      “Wonderful.” She gazed around the kitchen as she absentmindedly rubbed the top of Nappie’s head. “I don’t expect you to wait on me, Drew. Let me do something.”

      “I’m not going to be your slave, believe me. But today’s your big day. You’re finally back from deployment.”

      “Yes, I am. Only two months late, right?”

      Her squadron had returned two months ago, after six months in Japan. She’d deployed with them, but gone missing during their second month, on her ill-fated mission.

      “Your XO has been acting as the CO since the change of command. He’s kept me informed.”

      “How much did he know?”

      “Not much, at