Call To Engage. Tawny Weber

but Chloe argued that the left brain was engaged by the act of handwriting. She sometimes threw in things like creativity fostering energy or a pretty planner lowering stress, but the bottom line was, Chloe detested technology. Still, her method worked great for her.

      Chloe’s obsessions with planning every second of her life had started a few months back when her boyfriend had snuck out of her bed to run after his dream of being an archeologist. Or, considering that he didn’t have a degree, any plans to go back to school or any money, to dig in the dirt.

      She’d accepted Ava’s shoulder at the time, but as soon as she was through crying on it, Chloe was sure her man would be back. Ava had talked herself blue in the face, but the woman wouldn’t budge.

      Chloe had complete faith that Bones would be back.

      To make ends meet, in addition to working part-time at the gym, Chloe worked the counter of the health-food store up the street, led bike tours through Napa Valley and ran her own dog-walking business.

      “Does this mean you’re double booked tomorrow morning?” Ava asked with a frown, pointing to the sketch of a cute pair of Yorkies.

      “My bike tour finishes at the Wine Train, so Mrs. Burns is dropping off Dinky and Winky for their walk and picking them up later.”

      Ava’s brows arched. Apparently filling every moment of every day wasn’t enough to keep Chloe too busy to think about Bones—or Derek Herringbone to some people. Now she was double booking herself.

      It was crazy. The curvy blonde had a way with people that Ava envied. Her combination of pinup girl looks, good-natured flirting and friendliness put everyone at ease. She had guys lining up to date her, but she said her heart belonged to Bones. So instead of dating, she played matchmaker to any guy who asked her out.

      “I’d try to talk you into joining me on the bike tour since you could use the fresh air and the vines are gorgeous this time of year. But you have a pile of new massage appointments that I’m sure you’ll use as an excuse to avoid socializing,” Chloe said with a friendly eye roll as she handed Ava a clipboard.

      “I socialize enough,” Ava replied, flipping through the list of names and client information, along with her appointment schedule. It would all be better logged into a computer with a central booking system, but like Chloe, Mack was a technophobe who preferred paper.

      Silly, Ava thought. It was one thing she’d definitely want to change if she ever did partner up.

      “Two of these are new,” she said, reading one of the names listed on the next day’s schedule. “Did they fill out an input form?”

      “Nope. Mack added them to your schedule and said it was all good,” Chloe replied, flicking her fingers to dismiss things like client identity, health backgrounds and pertinent information.

      Ava wrinkled her nose but didn’t object. She appreciated Mack’s support and all the clients he sent her way. She’d have to buy him one of those big green, filled-with-so-much-healthy-stuff-they-tasted-gross drinks as a thank-you.

      He’d brush it off, she knew. A few years back, Mack had taken it upon himself to look out for her. Or as he put it, to watch her ass. He liked to think she couldn’t manage her life without him. Ava’s smile flickered, since she wasn’t sure he hadn’t been right.

      Then.

      Now, though, she was stronger. She’d learned to stand on her own feet, to defend herself and, yes, to watch her own ass if necessary. But Mack wasn’t ready to give up his role as her overprotective caretaker. He was stubborn that way.

      “If you won’t join the tour, how about a hike through Glass Beach this weekend? I’m free Saturday morning.”

      “Just us, or are you educating a bunch of strangers on the beauty of the Napa River and the history and ecosystem of the wetlands?”

      “Just us,” Chloe promised before her smile winked out. “Unless Bones makes it home for the weekend.”

      “Have you heard from him?” Ava asked cautiously.

      “No. But I’m sure I will any day now.” Frowning at Ava’s doubtful look, Chloe shook her head. “We’ve been together since we were fourteen. You don’t spend a decade with a person and not know them. This is just a phase. Something he has to get out of his system. Believe me—he will be back.”

      “Okay. Just, you know, don’t get your hopes up too high,” Ava warned before heading for the locker room.

      She knew there was no point in saying more than that. Any lecture she offered would fall on deaf ears. But she knew for a fact that men didn’t change. But women did, as Ava had proven. All it’d taken was a hideous bout of depression, a couple of exercise classes and a pulled muscle to completely change her life.

      Spinning had led to kettlebells, which led to yoga, then to weight lifting. Next thing she knew, she was teaching kickboxing, certified in Pilates and attending weeklong training camps in exercise instruction. One of those camps had hooked her on the benefits of massage for training the body, inspiring her to get licensed. Now, after another year of training, she’d added a rehabilitation massage certification to her roster.

      Not bad for a woman who, until the age of twenty, had been convinced that the sum total of her ambitions were to hold the crown of socialite princess, to be a perfect wife and to always look pretty.

      Thank God she’d escaped that life. It would have been pure hell.

      * * *

      ESCAPE COULD ONLY last for so long.

      Experience and familiarity got Elijah through the team debriefing without a problem, but by the time they got to his individual round, he was feeling raw.

      But, again, experience and familiarity got him through.

      Still, he was damned glad to hear, “Dismissed, Prescott.”

      Gut churning and his throat hot from keeping his voice at an even keel, Elijah nodded to the two Naval Intelligence officers and Admiral Cree. He offered his salute, turned on his heel and strode out. And he didn’t breathe fully until he’d cleared the room.

      “You okay? Damn, Prescott, you look rough.”

      Ignoring that, Elijah nodded to the ensign manning the desk and continued into the hallway. He wasn’t surprised when Jarrett joined him, matching his pace as they passed both military and civilian personnel until they’d reached the end of the hall.

      “Debriefing can be rough, but I’ve never seen you come out looking this worn. Seriously,” Jarrett said, sounding concerned, “are you okay?”

      “I’m fine.” Like Jarrett, Elijah stopped at the double doors. The sun filtered through the small windows, dust motes dancing between them. “I finished debriefing. I’m cleared.”

      “Hey, I just wanted to give you a heads-up.” Jarrett made a show of glancing to the left, then to the right before leaning closer. “Watch your six.”

      “Why? Someone coming down on my ass?”

      “I’m hearing a lot of buzz. Worry, doubts, that sort of thing. Some are saying Poseidon is, and I quote, a ‘fancy-ass clique rallying around a loser in the name of protecting their own.’” Jarrett rolled his eyes as if to say it was ridiculous. But if it was ridiculous, why bother with the warning? “Just wanted you to know.”

      Elijah met Jarrett’s frown with a look of calm. Not because that’s how he was feeling—hell, no. The warning, on top of a brutal debriefing, had his gut twisted with a miserable sort of fury. But there was no point confirming the gossip that he was a mess. “I’m good,” he lied.

      “I know you’re clean, Prescott. I just want to make sure you watch your back. People get ugly when they’re under suspicion.” Jarrett snapped his teeth together, his eyes worried. “You don’t need more dirt thrown your way. Not after everything you’ve been through. So if you need anything, I’m here for