Radclyffe - Oath of Honor

“Evyn,” Louise said, crossing the small space between them and kissing her on the cheek. “I think you’re great. We have a wonderful time together. But we never promised anything, and I don’t have any expectations.”

“It’s just that—” Evyn was more confused now than she had been a few minutes before. Louise must be even more bewildered. Time to stop dancing around the issue. “I’m thinking we might not be intimate again.”

“Ah.” Louise studied her. “It’s not something I said or did, is it?”

“No, you’re great,” Evyn said quickly. “I’m being a total ass, aren’t I? I’m not explaining anything really very well. I’m not even sure why I’m here.”

“Don’t apologize.” Louise smiled a little sadly. “That you would come here to tell me this, face-to-face, is one of the reasons I’m sorry we have to stop at friendship.”

“Ah hell—”

“But there’s no law against two people who like each other being friends, is there?” Louise brushed her fingers over Evyn’s shoulder. “I like you, aside from the great sex.”

Evyn blushed. “It’s official. I am an ass.”

“Quite possibly.” Louise laughed and poured a glass of red wine. “Have some of this while I cook and tell me what’s going on.”

Evyn sipped wine and started to relax. “I don’t know what’s going on. Nothing, really. That’s what makes this whole thing sort of ridiculous.”

“Uh-huh,” Louise said, taking food from the refrigerator and pans from underneath the sleek counter. “But you’re here, so why don’t you start with what got you here.”

“I just got back from a detail. It was a little crazy. One of my team members got into trouble.” Just saying that much made her faintly sick. The recurring image of Wes sinking deeper into the water came back sharp and clear. Adrenaline surged through her blood and a coppery taste filled her mouth.

Louise glanced over her shoulder and paused in her food prep. “You sound like it was really bad. I’m sorry.”

Evyn sucked in a breath. “She’s fine now. It was just tense there for a couple of minutes. That sort of thing happens. It’s part of the job.”

“I guess it probably is. I got the sense you never really wanted to talk about it, so I never pressed. If you want to tell me more—”

“Sorry. I guess I’ve never really shared much of anything.”

“And I never asked you to. So we’re okay on that score. Go ahead—you just got back from a tough assignment. And?”

“And there’s this woman…”

Louise smiled. “Isn’t there always? Sometimes they really turn your head around, don’t they?”

Evyn laughed. “You’d think I was new at this.”

Louise regarded her thoughtfully. “Maybe you are?”

“I think you might be right.” Where Wes was concerned, she sure felt like a first-timer. All hormones and insanity and hungry for more of everything. She’d kept praying Wes would lean back into the cab and kiss her good night. Yeah, right. Nuts. “Anyhow, that’s kind of what this is about. This woman I’m not really involved with—not that way, I mean.”

“I think I almost understand. You need to think about some things.”

“Yeah—I’m sorry.”

“I know. Me too—but it’s okay. Really.” Louise pointed a wooden spatula at the vegetables piled on the cutting board. “So—will you stay?”

“Yeah. I’m starved. And thanks.”

Louise put the utensils down, motioned Evyn closer, and kissed Evyn’s cheek. “You’re welcome. I like friends with benefits, but friends without benefits is okay too.”

“That’s good to know. Thanks.” Evyn wasn’t sure what she’d just done or why, but it felt right. It felt almost as good as the night she’d spent with Wes, which felt more than right. And she had no idea what to do about that.

Chapter Twenty-five

“You need plants,” Doris Masters said, standing with her hands on her hips in the center of the small galley kitchen, surveying the adjacent living area. She pointed to the bay windows overlooking Nineteenth Street. “That window seat gets enough sunlight. A planter or two right there—”

“Mom,” Wes said, “I kill plants.” Behind her, Denny snickered and mumbled something about understatement.

Giving the impersonal apartment a 360-degree glance, Doris said, “A cat would be good.”

“You have to feed cats,” Wes said.

Her mother pointed a finger at her. “That’s why your plants die.”

“Better plants than a cat,” Wes muttered. Her mother smiled, but Wes could tell by the glint in her ocean-green eyes she wasn’t finished. Looking a decade younger than her age, with the same green eyes and brown hair shot through with burnished gold, she could have been Wes’s older sister—and was sometimes mistaken for one of the sibs when they were all out together. Wes hadn’t known Denny and her mother were coming, but when they had shown up a few minutes after the delivery truck brought her belongings from Maryland, she’d been glad for more than the help. Their bright, sure love helped chase away the shadows that plagued her. She’d slept poorly since the night she’d spent with Evyn. The hotel bed was big and empty and cold, and every morning she awoke lonely. She went through the days, splitting her time between exercises with PPD and clinic duties, with an empty ache inside. Evyn was friendly but reserved, and Wes didn’t think it was an accident they hadn’t been alone together since their return from Kitty Hawk. Evyn was avoiding her.

“Wesley,” her mother said, “this isn’t a temporary billet. You’re going to live here for the next few years, and it shouldn’t look like a hotel room.”

Denny finally cut in and saved her. “Mama, give her a break. She didn’t invite us down here to help, after all, and—”

“Mother’s prerogative.” Doris perched on the wooden arm of the tan canvas sofa. “We’ll miss you at Christmas.”

Wes sat next to her mother and took her hand. “I know, I’m sorry. I’d be there if I could.”

“We’ll miss you,” her mother repeated, “and we’re so very proud of you. Your other sisters wanted to be sure you knew that.”

“I know. I love you. All of you.”

Denny flopped down beside her and bumped her knee against Wes’s. “So—on the personal front—”

Wes groaned. “Come on, Denny. Don’t start.”

Doris stroked the back of Wes’s head and feathered the locks along the back of her neck, as if she were still ten. “There’s more to life than work, Wesley.”

“And there’s lots of life ahead, Mom. I’m fine. Just really busy right now.”

“Yeah,” Denny said softly, “but are you happy?”

Wes hadn’t expected the question and hesitated before she answered. Getting the third degree from her family about her personal life wasn’t unusual, but after she shrugged off their good-natured queries with some standard answer, the conversation usually moved on. This time, the questions felt different, or maybe she was the one who was different. She didn’t have a pat response, and the old explanations rang false, even to her. “I don’t know. I’ve never given it much thought. My work makes me happy—”

“Satisfaction isn’t happiness,” Doris said.

“No, maybe not,” Wes said, “but it’s always been enough.”

“Things change, you know,” Denny said. “Don’t miss the chance for more than satisfaction if it comes along.”

“Okay, enough. Message received.” Wes squeezed Denny’s hand, kissed her mother’s cheek, and stood. “You’ve got a two-hour drive and I’ve got a ton of things to do.” At her mother’s frown she added quickly, “And I promised Emory I’d go out with her and Dana tonight. So I do have a social life, you know.”