Debbie Macomber - Navy Blues

“I wasn’t alone,” Steve answered with a cocky half smile that suggested that whoever he was with had been pleasant company, and he hadn’t missed her in the least.

Carol didn’t know how anyone could look so damned insolent and sensuous at the same moment. It required effort to keep her chin up and meet his gaze, but she managed.

“So you were alone,” he added. The news appeared to delight him. “That’s what happens when you mess around with a married man, my dear. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, Todd’s wife and family will always come first. That’s the other woman’s sad lot in life.”

Carol went still all over. She felt as though her entire body had turned to stone. She didn’t breathe, didn’t move, didn’t so much as blink. The pain spread out in waves, circling first her throat and then her chest, working its way down to her abdomen, cinching her stomach so tightly that she thought she might be sick. The whole room seemed to fade away and the only thing she was sure about was that she had to get out of the restaurant. Fast.

Her fingers fumbled with the snap of her purse as she opened her wallet. Her hands weren’t any more steady as she placed several coins by the coffee cup and scooted out of her seat.

* * *

Mutely Steve watched Carol walk out of the restaurant and called himself every foul name that he could come up with from his extensive Navy vocabulary. He hadn’t meant to say those things. Hadn’t intended to lash out at her. But he hadn’t been able to stop himself.

He’d lied, too, in an effort to salvage his pride. Lied rather than give her the satisfaction of knowing he’d spent last Christmas Day miserable and alone. It had been the worst holiday of his life. The pain of the divorce had still ached like a lanced boil, while everyone around him had been celebrating and exchanging gifts, their happiness like a ball and chain shackling his heart. This year didn’t hold much prospect for happiness, either. Lindy and Rush would prefer to spend the day alone, although they’d gone out of their way to convince him otherwise. But Steve wasn’t stupid and had already made other plans. He’d volunteered for watch Christmas Day so that a fellow officer could spend time with his family.

Gathering his thoughts about Carol, Steve experienced a healthy dose of regret about the way he’d behaved toward his ex-wife.

She’d looked good, he admitted reluctantly—better than he’d wanted her to look for his own peace of mind. From the moment they’d met, he’d felt the vibrant energy that radiated from her. Thirteen months apart hadn’t diminished that. He’d known the minute she walked into Denny’s; he’d felt her presence the instant the door opened. She wore her thick blond hair shorter than he remembered so that it fell forward and hugged the sides of her face, the ends curling under slightly, giving her a Dutch-boy look. As always, her metallic blue eyes were magnetic, irrevocably drawing his gaze. She looked small and fragile, and the desire to protect and love her had come at him with all the force of a wrecking ball slamming against his chest. He knew differently, but it hadn’t seemed to change the way he felt—Carol needed him about as much as the Navy needed more salt water.

Sliding out of the booth, Steve laid a bill on the table and left. Outside, the north wind sent a chill racing up his arms and he buried his hands into his pants pockets as he headed toward the parking lot.

Surprise halted his progress when he spied Carol leaning against the fender of her car. Her shoulders were slumped, her head hanging as though she were burdened by a terrible weight.

Once more Steve was swamped with regret. He had never learned the reason she’d phoned. He started walking toward her, not knowing what he intended to say or do.

She didn’t glance up when he joined her.

“You never said why you phoned,” he said in a wounded voice after a moment of silence.

“It isn’t important … I told Lindy that.”

“If it wasn’t to let me know you’re remarrying, then it’s because you want something.”

She looked up and tried to smile, and the feeble effort cut straight through Steve’s resolve to forget he’d ever known or loved her. It was useless to try.

“I don’t think it’ll work,” Carol said sadly.

“What?”

She shook her head.

“If you need something, just ask!” he shouted, using his anger as a defense mechanism. Carol had seldom wanted anything from him. It must be important for her to contact him now, especially after their divorce.

“Christmas Day,” she whispered brokenly. “I don’t want to spend it alone.”

Two

Until Carol spoke, she hadn’t known how much she wanted Steve to spend Christmas Day with her—and not for the reasons she’d been plotting. She sincerely missed Steve. He’d been both lover and friend, and now he was neither; the sense of loss was nearly overwhelming.

He continued to stare at her, and regret worked its way across his features. The success of her plan hinged on his response and she waited, almost afraid to breathe, for his answer.

“Carol, listen …” He paused and ran his hand along the back of his neck, his brow puckered with a condensed frown.

Carol knew him well enough to realize he was carefully composing his thoughts. She was also aware that he was going to refuse her! She knew it as clearly as if he’d spoken the words aloud. She swallowed the hurt, although she couldn’t keep her eyes from widening with pain. When Steve had presented her with the divorce papers, Carol had promised herself she would never give him the power to hurt her again. Yet here she was, handing him the knife and exposing her soul.

She could feel her heart thumping wildly in her chest and fought to control the emotions that swamped her. “Is it so much to ask?” she whispered, and the words fell broken from her lips.

“I’ve got the watch.”

“On Christmas …” She hadn’t expected that, hadn’t figured it into the scheme of things. In other words, the excuse of Christmas wasn’t going to work. Ultimately her strategy would fail, and she would end up spending the holiday alone.

“I’d do it if I could,” Steve told her in a straightforward manner that convinced her he was telling the truth. She felt somewhat less disappointed.

“Thank you for that,” she said, and reached out to touch his hand, in a small gesture of appreciation. Amazingly he didn’t draw away from her, which gave her renewed hope.

A reluctant silence stretched between them. There’d been a time when they couldn’t say enough to each other, and now there was nothing.

“I suppose I’d better get back.” Steve spoke first.

“Me, too,” she answered brightly, perhaps a little too brightly. “It was good to see you again … you’re looking well.”

“You, too.” He took a couple of steps backward, but still hadn’t turned away. Swallowing down her disappointment, Carol retrieved the car keys from the bottom of her purse and turned to climb into her Honda. It dawned on her then, hit her square between the eyes. If not Christmas Day then …

“Steve,” she whirled back around, her eyes flashing.

“Carol.” He called her name at the same moment.

They laughed and the sound fell rusty and awkward between them.

“You first,” he said, and gestured toward her. The corner of his mouth was curved upward in a half smile.

“What about Christmas Eve?”

He nodded. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

Carol felt the excitement bubble up inside her like fizz in a club soda. A grin broke out across her face as she realized nothing had been lost and everything was yet to be gained. Somewhere in the distance, Carol was sure she could hear the soft, lilting strains of a Brahms lullaby. “Could you come early enough for dinner?”