Welcome Home, Bobby Winslow. Christyne Butler

than seventy-two hours away from a rehabilitation center, probably not. Still, he was standing under his own power.

      “I don’t recall too many times when you willingly sat shotgun,” she said.

      “No, if memory serves, that spot usually belonged to my girlfriend.”

      A low hum of fury at his mocking tone passed through her. She fought to keep her next words light. “So you’ve learned to share now?”

      Bobby cocked his head to one side and his grin returned. “Only out of necessity. You know how I hate to give up a position of power.”

      Power behind the wheel, power over her.

      From the start of their teenage relationship, Leeann had never been able to resist the magnetic pull Bobby had over her. She’d been drawn to his wild, untamed and cocky personality from the moment they met. Maybe because he was so different from the starched and conventional home life she had with her parents.

      Being with Bobby gave her a freedom she’d never known before, even after he’d surprised her with an engagement ring in February of their senior year and convinced her that getting married right after graduation was the best way to be together.

      “Yes, I remember. It took having a diamond ring flung at your head before you finally took ‘no’ for an answer.”

      His smile vanished as soon as the words left her mouth.

      Leeann couldn’t believe she’d said that aloud and in front of an innocent bystander.

      “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair—”

      “Don’t worry about it.” He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “I think we’ve had enough apologies between us to last a lifetime.”

      His sharp tone brought back the memory instantly.

      Not far from this very spot, between tears and apologies, she’d tried to explain why she’d decided to leave town.

      Alone.

      Why she’d accepted a modeling contract in New York City, the prize for winning a contest she hadn’t known her mother had entered Leeann into.

      Why she’d changed her mind about marrying him before he was set to leave for the U.S. Army the week after their high school graduation. A ceremony that had only been days away.

      Boy, he must’ve waited years to throw her words back in her face.

      Leeann swallowed hard against an old ache she’d thought was long buried. Instead, she pasted on a counterfeit smile, honed to perfection from years in front of the camera. “Okay, well, let’s consider this a warning for both of you.”

      She looked at Bobby’s friend, who’d remained quiet during this whole exchange. “Please obey the speed limits during your stay, Mr. Zippenella.”

      “Yes, ma’am,” the man replied, shoving his license into his wallet before pocketing it. “But you can still call me Dean. Or Zippy. Hell, I’ll answer if you yell out a simple ‘hey you.’“

      Leeann’s smile slipped from fake to genuine with ease. Boy, this guy had his namesake’s charm in spades. “I’ll keep that in mind, Dean.”

      “So, are we free to go, Officer?”

      Stepping back toward her cruiser, Leeann glanced at Bobby again, noticing a slight trembling in his ramrod-straight posture and a growing gleam of sweat dotting his skin.

      An urge to ask again if he was okay filled her, but she quickly squashed it as she headed for the driver’s-side door. “Yes, gentleman, you are. Enjoy the rest of this beautiful fall day. And Bobby … welcome home.”

      Chapter Two

      Bobby dropped his arms, the movement causing him to sway again. Bracing his hands on his hips, he kept his eyes trained on Leeann’s cruiser until it disappeared over the hill.

      A familiar shaking of his legs warned him that the searing pain he’d learned to live with over the past few months was fast approaching. He managed six steps toward the camper before his strength gave out and he crumpled into a heap near the front tire.

      Zippy raced to his side, crouching next to him. “Dammit, Ace!”

      Bobby’s gaze remained on the empty blacktop, his brain still trying to process the fact that the girl who’d walked away from their foolish teenage dreams in order to become a successful model was back in Destiny.

      And working as a deputy sheriff.

      If not for that low sexy voice of hers, smoky and smooth like the whiskey he’d come to favor over the years, he never would’ve believed his first love was the same person who’d stood in front of him in a khaki uniform, her once-famous waist-length hair now so short it barely brushed her shoulders.

       A cop?

       Really?

      “Hey, bro?” Zip gave him a gentle nudge. “You okay?”

      Bobby shook his head, mentally pushing away the long-ago sealed memories before they had a chance to form. Instead he concentrated on the blinding rush that felt like a thousand pricks of hot needles radiating from his hips to his knees.

      “Yeah, I’m good.” He pushed the words past gritted teeth. “I’m great.”

      “No, what you are is stupid. She obviously knew about your accident. You could’ve had your little reunion through the window.” Zip wrapped one beefy arm around his back, providing a strong and steady presence.

      Just like he’d done from the moment Bobby first opened his eyes in the hospital after the accident. Like he’d done the day they’d met in a desert hellhole ten years ago.

      “Why didn’t you stay inside the camper?” Zip asked.

      No way.

      It took a full-on stare at Leeann for Bobby to match the girl to her voice. No, make that woman. Long gone was the girly-girl he’d known in high school who’d entered beauty pageant after beauty pageant and barely had the strength to carry her own books.

      When he’d finally realized who’d pulled them over, he’d been determined to meet Leeann Harris again for the first time face-to-face and standing unaided on his own two feet.

      “So that was her,” Zip said.

      Bobby looked at his friend and blinked. “Huh?”

      “You know, beauty queen, first love, heartbreaker, high-rent cover model for Cosmo, Vogue, Brides—”

      “Damn you and your steel-trap memory.” Bobby bent his knees and braced his feet in the dirt. “Help me get off my ass.”

      Zip managed to shrug while shouldering Bobby’s weight and helping him back to a standing position. “With all the boo-hooing you did that night, how could I forget?”

      Thankful the pain was fading already, Bobby leaned against the camper. He wasn’t ready to try walking yet. “We drank a lot that night.”

      “We were celebrating finally being back on American soil.” Zip dropped his hold and stepped back, but stayed close. “Drinking for those who never came home.”

      Bobby remembered.

      Their first night back after a front-row seat in the Middle East during that “quiet” time between the first Gulf War and the second, courtesy of the U.S. Army. The only two guys in their unit who hadn’t had anyone to go home to, he and Zip had ended up shutting down a hole-in-the-wall bar outside the gates of Fort Bragg. Then they’d stumbled to a nearby motel to continue drinking and talking until the sun rose.

      “You know, Ace, if you were so dogged to come out of the camper on your own power, you could’ve at least grabbed a—”

      “Let it go, Zip.