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Kerry turned in her chair and reviewed the rain lashing at her window. “They’re washing the car? Have you looked outside?”
“Has to be nice and clean before we turn it over.” Laura’s enthusiasm didn’t miss a beat. “Would you like to stop by after work?
We’re open until seven.”
“All right.” Kerry grinned, finding herself anticipating the new acquisition. “See you before then.”
“Excellent! Looking forward to it, Ms. Stuart. Have a great day!”
Laura warbled happily.
“Sure. You, too.” Kerry hung up, bemused. She regarded her quiet office for a moment, then idly spun herself around in her chair a few times. “Vroom vroom.”
KERRY HAD SENT Mayte home earlier with María, and by the time she finished up her inbox, a quiet had settled over the building. She clicked on the last message to send it, then sat back and cupped her hands around her tea mug, sucking down the strawberry scented liquid as she watched her mail program transfer all her finished mail to storage folders.
A relaxed strain of music was coming from her PC speakers, which were tuned to an Internet radio station that mostly played New Age Celtic. She flexed her bare feet under her desk and sighed, glad the long day was over.
A soft knock sounded. “C’mon in.” Kerry looked up, a smile already crossing her face as the door opened and Andrew Roberts’s familiar head poked inside. “Hey, Dad.” She got up and trotted across the carpeted floor as Andrew entered. Her father-in-law was wearing a dark-blue rain jacket with its hood up, and he pushed the hood back and unzipped the jacket as she threw her arms around him in an unhesitating hug. “Ooh...it’s good to see you.”
Unseen by Kerry, a smile crossed the ex Navy SEAL’s scarred face as Andrew returned the embrace. “Well there, kumquat. It’s good t’see you, too.”
Topping Dar’s slightly over six-foot height by almost five inches, Andrew towered over Kerry by almost a foot, and his large, broad-shouldered and still-muscular body had the same solid feel. She loosened her grasp and gazed up at him, catching the grin before he could discard it. Eyes the same shade as her lover’s twinkled back at her, set in a face that, despite its very masculine ruggedness, still brought Dar to mind in its planed cheekbones and angular shape.
“Thanks for coming to rescue me.”
Andrew snorted softly. “Since Dar saw fit to go and abandon you, I figured it’d be a good idea.”
“She didn’t abandon me.” Kerry gave him a friendly poke. “She’s stuck down on that base. I don’t envy her; but on the bright side, it gives
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me a chance to spend some time with one of my favorite people.”
“You are just a sweet-talking young lady,” Dar’s father drawled.
“C’mon, ’fore we have to paddle on out of this here office.”
Kerry released him and went back to her desk to retrieve her shoes.
“I have to make a stop before home, if that’s okay.” She shut down her PC as Andrew wandered around her office peering at the décor curiously. “My new car’s ready.”
“That so?” Andrew asked curiously. “Dar told me you got yourself into a pickle last night and banged up that little bitty thing of yours.”
“Some crazy person driving down the wrong side of the road on the causeway, thanks.” Kerry zipped up her briefcase and shouldered it.
“Did Dar tell you she got herself and that brute of an SUV of hers between the nutcase and me?” She fastened her jacket and turned her desk lamp off.
“No, she did not.” Andrew tried hard to hide a dazzlingly proud smile, and failed completely.
“Figures.” Kerry took him by the arm and led him out of the office.
“C’mon, we’ll get my new buggy, then I’ll treat you to dinner. How’s that?”
Andrew allowed himself to be escorted to the elevator, shrugging his hood up into place as Kerry hit the button to call it. “I do believe I can do any of that there treating that’s required, young lady,” he replied, following her into the elevator.
“We’ll see about that,” Kerry teased as the doors closed.
Interested eyes watched the empty space for a few seconds, then footsteps retreated back down the hallway, disappearing behind the solid sound of a wooden door closing.
THE BAR WAS old, and mostly wood, and featured an honest-to-goodness jukebox that was currently droning out something from the country western side of the record catalog. Dar tipped back in her chair and took a sip of her beer, gazing across the table’s surface at the five men gathered around it.
Damn, it’s been a long time
. Dar let her eyes linger on her old friends.
They were all the same age, more or less, as she was, and some things hadn’t changed much. Mike and Ricardo still looked like GI Joe dolls, complete with buzz cuts and bodybuilder physiques. Duds and John were still inseparable, two lanky, spare men with straight blond-brown hair and Southern drawls.
And Chuckie, of course
. Dar let a faint smile cross her face. Chuckie had actually gotten better looking over the years. He’d left the gawkiness of his late teens behind and grown into a six-foot-plus body with nice, broad shoulders and an athletic waistline. Tucked into his Navy captain’s uniform, he cut a very impressive figure and Dar had no problem cheerfully acknowledging that to herself.
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“So, now what is it you’re doing, Dar?” Chuckie turned and leaned on his chair arm, gazing into her eyes with his twinkling gray ones. “I hear you’re turning the base upside down.”
“Making trouble, like usual,” Dar replied, with a chuckle. “The Pentagon hired me to go tell the Navy how to do its job better.”
“Ooh.” The five men chorused a groan. “No shit?” Chuckie laughed. “They didn’t, did they?”
“They did.” Dar lifted her beer and took a sip. “Mother of ironies, huh?”
“Son of a bitch.” Mike rocked back and forth on uneven chair legs.
“The brass on base must be ready to have a heart attack.” He poked a finger at Dar. “I still remember the day you redone the base telecom and sent all them private notes of the CO’s to the staff fax machine.”
Heh
. Dar snickered. “I remember that, too. Guy was an idiot to be using base mail to send love notes to that girl he picked up in Chicago.”
“Yep. You were a hell raiser, for sure,” Mike chuckled. “Bet you still are.”
“That’s what they say,” Dar demurred. “Only now they pay me for it,” she added.
Chuckie cocked his head curiously. “You’re still working for ILS, right?” He waited for Dar to nod. “So, what kind of money do they pay for what you do?” He noticed Dar’s lifted eyebrow. “Round numbers, I mean. We always figured you’d do all right, because you got more brains than half the earth, but for real, Dar...did you end up kicking ass?”
Dar glanced around the weather-beaten bar and caught the interested looks from her old pals. They’d all done well in the Navy, and all of them, even Mike, had grudgingly admitted to being career sailors. “Well,” she took a swig of beer and rolled the beverage around in her mouth before swallowing. “I’m the chief information officer of the largest IS company in the world. My base is seven figures, if that’s what you’re asking.”
They all looked at each other, then back at her. There was a moment of stunned silence.
“Well.” Chuckie rubbed his jaw. “God damn.”
Dar smiled. “So I guess I’m buying then, huh?” she remarked dryly.
“See? You shoulda dragged me out to someplace nicer.”
“Son of a bitch.” Mike started laughing. “Son of a bitch. You’re actually one of them corporate big shots?”
“’Fraid so,” Dar agreed solemnly. “Got me a big office, floor-to-ceiling glass windows, teakwood desk, the whole nine yards,” she told them. “Everyone running around scared to death of me, you name it.”
“Wow.” Chuckie shook his head. “I can believe the last part, ’cause you can be a scary individual when you wanna be, old buddy, but thinking of you in an ivory tower’s givin’ me a headache.” He slapped Dar’s knee lightly, then poked the spot. “You don’t spend all your time behind that desk though, d’ya? You don’t look much like a cream puff.”
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“No more than you do.” Dar let a mildly evil grin touch her lips as she curled a foot around the leg of his chair and jerked hard, nearly sending him sprawling backward. “Spending your time sitting in that nice comfy chair on the bridge.”
“Uh-oh...here we go.” Mike burst into laughter. “I knew it was just a matter of time. The two of you ain’t changed for shit.”
“You—” Chuckie grabbed for the edge of the table to keep from tipping over, but the surface moved, sending the two mugs of beer on it flying. “Yow...sonofa—”
“Hey!” Mike yelped and leaped to his feet, only barely avoiding being soaked. “Cut that out, bilgebrain.” He pointed a finger at Chuckie. “Don’t you start, either. You never have gotten over getting your ass kicked in that obstacle course the night we all graduated.”
Chuckie snorted. “Get out of here. I don’t even remember that.”
“I do,” Dar drawled, with an even more evil grin. “But since I was the one doing the kicking, I guess that’s natural.” Oh, she certainly did remember that night. They’d had a beer or two way too many, and she’d been just at the very top edge of her best physical conditioning, seriously intent on getting herself into BUDS training and only too happy to prove that to any other Navy brat who questioned her. Twenty of them had straggled out of their graduation party, and bets had started flying.
“That was then,” Chuckie reminded her pointedly.
The words came out before she had a chance to think about them.
“C’mon, Chuckie, I could still kick your ass on that course.”
Now he grinned. “Oh yeah? How much you wanna bet?”
Mike groaned. “Oh no...not again. For Pete’s sake, you two! You’re furking adults now!”
“Hundred bucks!” Chuckie leaned forward eagerly. “C’mon.”
She was out of her mind, Dar dimly realized as she watched herself rise to the challenge, almost as though seeing someone else do it. “How about a thousand?” she drawled softly. “C’mon, tough guy. See if you can lift anything but binoculars now.” A tiny voice cleared its throat internally.
Hope you know what you’re doing, big shot, or you’re gonna be
picking splinters out of your ass for a week
. “How about it, Chuckie?”
His eyes glinted and his well-shaped nostrils flared. “You got it.
Let’s go. I got a lot of things I could do with a thousand bucks.”
Dar set her bottle down and stood. “After you?” She held a hand up and pointed to the door. She gave the rest of the group, who were muttering and shaking their heads, a smile. “C’mon, guys. After this, I’ll treat for dinner. How ’bout it?”
“You ain’t gonna be in any condition to treat anyone,” Chuckie warned with a big grin.
“Save your breath.” Dar booted him in the butt before he could move, then booted him again when he tried to evade her. “You’re gonna need it.”
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“Hey!” Chuckie slapped at her leg with his uniform hat. “Cut that out, or I’ll...I’ll...”
“What? Tell my daddy?” Dar was enjoying herself thoroughly.
“Last time you did that, I got a banana split out of it.”
“Wench.” Chuckie started laughing. “God damn you, you’re such a wild weasel. Ow!” He slapped at Dar’s boot again, which had just impacted his butt. “I am gonna push your ass so far down in that mud, you’ll have to call a deep-sea diver to go find you.”
“Careful, hairball,” Duds rumbled softly. “If’n that deep-sea diver’s her daddy, your ass is gonna be flying over the mess hall by morning.”
They all laughed and jostled out the door into a still-drizzling evening. “How is yer old man doin’, Dar?” Mike asked, lowering his voice a little and getting serious. “Man, I was glad they got him back.”
Dar exhaled. “He’s fine,” she replied. “He and Mom got this fifty-some-foot Bertram, and they’re having a blast on it. They’ve been out to Bermuda twice, and I can’t remember ever seeing him so happy.”
“Wow.” Mike smiled. “That’s way cool.”
“He got a boat?” Duds asked curiously. “Man, that musta been some pension...or did you get that for him?”
Dar smiled and ran a hand through her now damp hair. “What do you think?”
Duds laughed. “Daddy’s girl all the way, that’s for damn sure.
C’mon, let’s get this damn thing over with. I’m hungry!”
“You’re always hungry, mouth on wheels,” Chuckie chided, giving him a backslap in the belly. “That’s why you’re outgrowing your uniform. Lookit that.”
“Cut that out!” Duds nudged him. “Leave my buttons alone, y’pervert.”
“Butthead.”
Dar sucked in a wet breath, overcome with a wash of giddy enjoyment, looking ahead to the dark, mud-spattered challenge in front of her. So it was crazy.
That was all right.
Everyone had to have a crazy night now and then, right?
KERRY LEANED BACK in the seat of the stolid gray pickup truck Andrew was navigating through the flooded streets. She had her seatbelt securely fastened around her body, and her feet were braced solidly against the floor, steadying her as the truck moved.
Andrew wasn’t really a bad driver, she’d decided, just an impatient one; and little things such as sidewalks and divider islands proved little or no impediment to his progress in getting from point A to point B in the quickest possible manner. “Nice truck, Dad.” She patted the fabric seat. “I like it. Dar was telling me about the one she had when she was younger.”
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Forced by convention to stop at a red light, Andrew sat back and folded his arms. “Ceci tried for some days to get me to agree to drive in one of them Beetle cars.”
Kerry raised an eyebrow.
“Well, young lady, that is exactly how I felt about it, too,” the ex-SEAL drawled. “Them are the ugliest things I ever did see; and there was no how, no way I was going to be sitting inside one of them, much less drive it.”
“I couldn’t picture that.” Kerry shook her head. “It would be like you having a moped, or Dar drinking skim milk.”
“She hates that,” Andrew agreed. “Even when she was a tot, Cec used to try and get her to drink it, and she’d toss her bottle ’cross the kitchen.”