Have Husband, Need Honeymoon. Rita Herron

both grown up,” Alison said, squaring her shoulders.

      “And changed.”

      The nervous laughter escaped. “Right, we were only kids back then. Foolish and impulsive and full of dreams.”

      “And stars.” He cleared his throat. “But life changes and goes on.”

      She turned to face him and saw the strains of fatigue and worry etched on his face. He had aged, she realized, and a hardness, an emptiness had settled into his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

      What had happened to put it there?

      She wanted desperately to know, yet self-preservation kicked in and she decided she couldn’t ask. Not with that wall of broken trust between them.

      “I…I really didn’t know about the papers until yesterday. I’ll file them as soon as possible, if that’s what you want.”

      His expression grew even harder, even colder, if that were possible, the tension between them palpable. “I think that would be best.” Then he turned and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.

      Alison watched him limp down the street, and wondered at his choice of words. He hadn’t said it was what he wanted, he’d said he thought it would be best. Her fingers brushed across her lips, and the memory of the passion in his kiss rose to taunt her. Could it be possible? Could Brady still have feelings for her? Or was she overanalyzing what he’d said, trying to hold on to some sliver of hope for their future?

      BRADY WAS TOO SHAKEN to deal with the crowd in Sugar Hill, much less his doting, but slightly over-bearing mother. He did find Vivica and meet her fiancé, Joe, an architect, who seemed like a decent enough guy and appeared to adore Vivica. But Brady couldn’t focus; he was trying to absorb the news that he and Alison were officially still married.

      “The fireworks display is supposed to be even bigger this year,” Vivica said.

      “I’ve never been to a small-town one,” Joe admitted. “We usually go into Atlanta.”

      “Hey, Vivi,” Brady said, “would you and Joe give Mom a ride home, and let me take the car?”

      “Aren’t you going to stay for the fireworks?” Vivica asked.

      Brady jammed his hands in his pockets. “I’m tired. If you don’t mind, I’d like to head home. It’s been a long day.”

      “Of course.” Vivica dug in her purse for her keys and handed them to him. “I keep forgetting it hasn’t been long since the accident. You need to rest.”

      He grimaced and shook Joe’s hand. “See you later.”

      Although he’d intended to go home, he found himself driving out to the lake, sitting by the edge, looking at the chapel across the water. As he threw rocks into the lake and watched them sink to the bottom, he contemplated the downward spiral his life had taken.

      And he remembered the last time he and Alison had been here together. The night they’d made love.

      He shouldn’t have kissed her back at her shop, but the kiss had been so natural, so damn full of uninhibited passion that he’d forgotten the reason he’d returned to town. The reasons he’d broken things off with her.

      He’d nearly forgotten he couldn’t be with her again.

      Although it was seven o’clock, the hot July sun was still beating down fiercely on his neck, and he swiped at the perspiration on his brow. A headache pulsed behind his eyes, due to the strain and the aftereffects of the head injury he’d suffered in the accident, so he lay back on the grassy hill and closed his eyes. Memories of his high school days, of football games and dances and Alison, floated in and out of his consciousness, and he finally drifted into a deep sleep. But in his sleep, he was suddenly thrust back into that last training maneuver, the simulated combat mission in the Arizona mountains, the horrible accident….

      The sound of Josh’s panicked voice rang in his ears. “Caught his jet wash!”

      The third jet turned and flew left.

      Brady gritted his teeth. Josh was the best pilot he knew. He could handle it. “Hang in there, Shooter.”

      “No, not good,” Josh mumbled.

      “The bogey’s right on me,” Brady called. “Got to drop altitude.” He dropped and exhaled as the bogey zoomed ahead.

      Josh cursed. “Damn. My engines are down!”

      Brady glanced sideways and saw Josh’s fighter jet fly into a spin.

      Brady hung a right onto Josh’s tail. “Pull it up, man, pull it up.”

      “Can’t. Out of control.” The radio crackled. “This is bad…can’t get her back.”

      Brady saw the mountain coming at them. Josh’s plane’s belly skimmed a rocky peak, clipping one of the wings.

      “Lost the other engine!” Josh shouted. “Mayday! Mayday!”

      Brady had to do something, had to help his friend! But the bogey was coming back toward him. “Eject! Eject, Shooter! Hit the eject button.”

      Josh’s voice rasped out, “Can’t reach it.”

      “Dammit, man, eject now! And watch the canopy!”

      “Eject button malfunctioning!”

      Brady’s hands tightened on his own controls as Josh tried to crash-land, the jet shimmying wildly in its nose dive toward the valley. Another mountain came at Brady and he barely pulled up in time. The bogey pulled up and circled back. Josh hit the trees, skimmed along atop them, then plunged into the mountain.

      Brady grappled with his own aircraft. Seconds later, his heart pounding, he landed, barely missing a nearby military building on the edge of the mountain as he rammed into the forest. Even before the plane stopped completely, he was undoing his seat belt. The jet’s nose hit a tree and the impact threw him forward, his head slamming the control panel.

      Then he was fighting to get out, running across the terrain.

      An explosion suddenly rent the air. The wing of Josh’s jet blew off and shards of metal slammed against his leg, knocking him to the ground. Another explosion shook the rocks, causing them to collapse. His foot was trapped, caught beneath the rubble. He yanked, tore at the debris, dragged his limb free. Pain shot through him. His leg was twisted and mangled, but he dragged himself forward. He clawed at the burning wreckage, frantically trying to pry open the door.

      Blood spurted from his arm; metal scalded his hands; pieces splintered, slammed into his head. He tried to crawl inside, but the wreckage was an inferno. Josh…God no!

      Brady jerked awake, trembling and sweating, the horror of Josh’s twisted body still vivid, his own screams ringing in his ears. Where was he? The lake? But he’d heard an explosion.

      Fireworks.

      The town had started their evening show with a burst of patriotic red and blue colors. He must have slept for over two hours, for night had fallen. A skyful of stars twinkled above the lake, and the moon shone like a beacon. Just the way it had the night he and Alison had made love here. So damn long ago.

      Another lifetime.

      The marriage, the annulment—the sheer reality of it all crashed on top of him, almost as painful as the explosion had been. Alison had fallen in love with the star football player, the adventurous guy who planned to be a fighter pilot, the man who’d intended on spending his life serving his country, a hero.

      If he and Josh hadn’t been trying to best each other in the flying maneuvers, Josh might have realized the bogey was on him before he got caught in the other plane’s jet wash. Brady couldn’t escape the guilt that he had survived and Josh hadn’t.

      He looked down at himself in disgust, stared at the ugly scar twisting around