She went into the kitchen and made a cup of coffee, leaning a hip on the counter and idly stirring in a dash of milk and a spoonful of sugar, her distracted thoughts whirling and gaining momentum.
He wasn’t going to tell her where he’d been. She already knew that; she’d known it when they’d first become involved. Falling madly in love with a man who loosely defined his occupation as military was a leap of faith, she’d discovered. It didn’t take more than a few dates before she realized he was evasive about just exactly what he did for the government.
Yet she’d fallen anyway.
“Damn you, Jack,” she muttered out loud, taking her coffee to the sliding doors that opened to the back deck. It was already hot, the sun warming the boards under her bare feet, the neighborhood quiet with green lawns and mature trees and neat, straight sidewalks. She sat in a chair by the wrought-iron table her parents had given her as a housewarming gift and set down her cup of coffee. “Damn your job,” she added for good measure.
Her life was up-ended.
In a good/bad way.
As if to illustrate it, her phone beeped, indicating a text. She pulled it from the pocket of her shorts and read the message. Good morning, beautiful.
She swiftly pushed a few buttons. Good morning.
Doing?
Coffee.
Hot here.
Hot here too.
What a coincidence.
“I’d love to join you but I shouldn’t. Care to come back inside?”
Nicole jumped a mile and set down her phone, seeing Jack lounging with one hand braced against the doorjamb but behind the screen where he couldn’t be seen, his hair wet and gorgeously curly from the shower, still shirtless but wearing a pair of jeans that hugged his long legs. He still hadn’t shaved but the dark stubble suited his model-boy look.
Only, of course, if you took away the bullet hole scars that were like twin dark red spots on his upper chest.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” she said with an embarrassing wobble in her voice. “You were sleeping like the…”
“Dead,” he supplied ironically. “Probably. I think I’d been awake for over forty hours when I stepped off the plane last night.” He pointed at her coffee. “Give me a cup of that and I’ll be your love slave for life. Of course, that was part of the plan anyway.”
His crooked smile, slightly devilish and all male, would bring any woman to her knees. “Sounds like quite a bargain. A cup of coffee for sexual servitude?” Nicole kept her tone light and rose. He slid back the screen, but when she went to walk past, he put an arm around her waist while deftly removing the cup of coffee from her hand. His mouth nuzzled her neck. “Good morning, beautiful.”
Oh God.
His hair was like damp ebony silk under her fingers. She said softly, “Don’t you want coffee?”
“Hmm.” He kissed the hollow of her throat. “Among other things.”
Her laugh was breathless, because, quite frankly, he had that effect on her at just about any time. “Even after last night?”
“Especially after last night.” He let go of her and handed back her cup. “But, yeah, I’d love a decent cup of coffee first.”
“French roast or Italian?”
“If it isn’t made from a muddy puddle in a road in the middle of no-man’s land, it doesn’t matter.” He grinned and leaned back against the sink, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. “You choose.”
“Still drink it black?” She fished a cup out of the cupboard, self-conscious over how he was looking at her, his gaze both predatory and maybe holding a hint of curiosity.
Of course. Jack’s instincts were spot-on, and whatever he did do for the armed forces of the United States, that was probably why he was good at it.
He said softly, “Yes, still black. I haven’t changed, Nikki. I know I’ve been gone for over a year, but it’s just me. I know the circumstances aren’t exactly run of the mill, but we can adjust and go back to the way it was.”
There he was wrong. It wasn’t ever going to be the same, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. She carefully placed the mug in the coffeemaker, put in the pre-measured cup and pressed a button, taking a moment to collect her thoughts.
He sensed it too, just as she guessed he would, and let her take the time, wordlessly accepting the cup when she handed it to him.
“Maybe you can’t tell me much, but I guess I don’t have the same restrictions. I’ve got something to tell you.”
Jack lifted the cup to his mouth, not taking his eyes from hers. “Okay. Tell me.”
Not okay. I don’t know how to do this.
Her hands were trembling and she clenched them into fists, glad she’d set aside her own cup so he couldn’t see she how shaken she was. Helplessly, she said, “Last night it seemed so simple. I love you, but it isn’t quite so simple in the light of day.”
“How so?” His voice held a guarded edge. “Shit, from your expression I’m not going to like what you’re about to say, am I?”
Even as she opened her mouth to say God only knew what, she heard the click of the front door, and the soft swoosh as someone pushed it open. A male voice said, “Nikki?�