Uncharted Waters (12 page)

No problem.

A
lison poured decaf into two cups and set them on a tray. Down the hall, she could hear Kevin chattering and the occasional response from Drew. She could also hear laughter, adult male and child. A sound she hadn't heard much of in recent years.

It should have been a comfort having Drew in for coffee after a lovely dinner, but Alison was anything but comfortable. She couldn't quite put her finger on the squirrelly feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she knew it revolved around Drew. It had been a long time since she'd had a male visitor. And even though she and Drew had mutually agreed to maintain a friend-only relationship, she couldn't ignore the sharp zing of nerves.

The kiss they'd shared earlier in the day had left an indelible mark. Throughout the afternoon, she'd found her mind going repeatedly back to that fleeting moment. The way his eyes had darkened when he looked at her. The gentleness with which he'd touched her. And the kiss... Oh, God, the kiss.

The instant his mouth had come down on hers Alison's world had spun right off its axis. Her body had reacted with a power that stunned her. Long-denied needs had wakened with a vengeance. Needs she'd thought she would never again feel in her lifetime. Needs she wasn't prepared for. How was it that she
could go for four years without so much as a stray thought about a relationship or a kiss or any of the things that went along with having a man around, and then suddenly find herself thinking of little else?

As much as she didn't want to admit it, she could no longer deny that her relationship with Drew had, indeed, changed. A very decided shift that would make a platonic relationship extremely difficult. Maybe even impossible. They could claim to be friends until they both turned blue. But there was no denying the hot arc of electricity that jumped between them every time they got within shouting distance.

How was she supposed to handle her attraction to a man who only wanted to be friends? A man who'd once been her husband's best friend? A man who, she suspected, was still dealing with guilt over her husband's death?

The questions weren't tidy ones, and an uncomfortable twinge nipped at her. For years she had identified herself as Rick Myers's widow and Kevin Myers's mother. She had identified herself in those ways for so long, maybe she'd forgotten how to be anything else. Maybe she'd forgotten how to be a woman.

Picking up the tray, she carried it into the living room and set it on the coffee table. As she made her way down the hall toward Kevin's bedroom, she could hear him laughing and digging around in his toy box. Her little boy was hungry for male company, she thought, and a pang of sadness hit her squarely in the chest. In the years since Rick had been gone, that was the one thing she hadn't been able to give him.

She stepped into the bedroom to find man and boy sitting on the floor, engaged in a serious conversation about the Mach II versus the Screamer.

“It's all in the engines,” Drew said. “The Mach II uses a smaller battery and only has two props.”

“You mean propellers?”

“That's right. The Screamer has the special tail prop, too. Makes a difference. Plus, the aerodynamics are different. Look at the wing lines and the elongated flaps.” Holding the jet up for Kevin to see, he ran his finger along the wing to the tip. “See that?”

“How do you know so much about planes?”

“I'm a pilot.”

“Yeah, but this is a toy.”

“Same concept.”

“My mommy told me my dad was a pilot.”

Drew visibly flinched, then glanced quickly away. From where she stood at the door Alison couldn't see his face, but his body language told her a great deal about what he was feeling. A long moment passed and then he looked over at Kevin with such sadness and tenderness that Alison had to blink away unexpected tears. She knew Rick's death had hit Drew hard. It had hit everyone hard. What she hadn't realized was that Drew's wounds were still open and bleeding.

“He was a good pilot,” Drew said in a rough voice.

“My mommy has a picture of him. He's wearing a uniform and looks really cool. Mommy says he was a hero. You wanna see it?”

“Ah, no.” A breath shuddered out of him. “It's late, and I've got to get going.”

Instinct told her this was a good time to break in to the conversation. Alison wasn't exactly sure what was going on inside Drew's head, but whatever it was, it was clear this conversation wasn't one he wanted to have with her son.

Clearing her throat, she stepped into the room.
“You, young man,” she said to Kevin, “should have been in bed three hours ago.”

Two male heads turned toward her, one grinning, the other one wary, and Alison felt her heart melt for both of them.

“Mommy, Drew knows everything about planes!” Relieving Drew of the Zoomer 57 Skyeagle, he jumped to his feet and carried it over to Alison. “He fixed the broken flap. See?”

“What I see is a little boy who's going to have a very hard time getting up in the morning.” Taking Kevin by the shoulders, she guided him toward the bed. “Did Drew tell you that you have an early morning tomorrow?”

Kevin and Alison looked at Drew. He shrugged as he got to his feet. “I thought I'd let you tell him,” he said to Alison.

She turned down the sheet and quilt. “Under the covers, young man.”

“Tell me what?” The little boy scrambled beneath the covers. “I wanna know. Are we gonna go on another plane ride?”

Alison pulled the quilt up to his chin. “Drew is going to take you fishing tomorrow.”

“Fishing? Wow! For real?” Kevin popped into a sitting position. “You mean with poles and everything?”

Alison gently pushed him back down. “For real.”

Drew walked over to the bed. “My cousin Seth has a fishing boat we can borrow.”

“Wowee, a boat! Mommy, did you hear that?”

“I sure did.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her little boy's forehead, felt her heart swell in her
chest with love for him. “But if you don't get some sleep, you're not going to get an early start.”

“But I'm not sleepy!”

“That's because you're all excited.”

“I could stay up for a little while.”

“No chance,” she said firmly.

Kevin lay back in the pillow and smiled at her. Alison stared down at him and grinned back, loving him so much that her throat tightened with emotion. “Did you thank Drew for fixing your Zoomer 57 Skyeagle, honey?”

Before she could stop him, Kevin scrambled out of bed, crossed the room at a full gallop, jumped two feet into the air and threw his arms and legs around Drew. “Thanks, Drew!”

For an instant Drew looked stunned with the open show of affection. His eyes met hers as he put his arms around Kevin. Alison watched, moved and fascinated as Drew closed his eyes and pressed his cheek against the boy's head. “You're welcome, sprout.”

She stared at man and boy for several long seconds, aware that her heart was thrumming hard in her chest, that she couldn't speak. When Drew eased Kevin gently to arm's length and Kevin smiled at him, she felt something inside her shift and begin to freefall. The rightness of the moment moved her so profoundly that she couldn't look away. For an instant, she thought she was going to make a fool of herself and burst into tears.

Instead, she crossed to Kevin, took him gently by the shoulders and guided him back to bed. “Don't forget to say your prayers,” she said with a firmness she didn't feel.

“'Kay, Mommy.”

She kissed him again. “Good night, sweetheart.”

“See you in the morning, Drew.”

“Seven a.m. sharp,” Drew said from the door. “Don't be late.”

“I won't.”

When she turned and started toward the door, she could hear Kevin praying, and he was praying to his daddy.

* * *

Drew knew better than to let that sweet little boy get to him. But every time he thought about Kevin growing up without a father—perhaps because of something Drew had or hadn't done—his heart simply broke. Technically, he knew Rick's death wasn't his fault, and the Navy brass had cleared him of any negligence. But Drew had always held himself to higher standards. It had been Drew who'd looked into Rick's eyes that night and seen the horror and the terrible knowledge of his impending death. He'd held his best friend's life in his hands. Felt him slip. Watched him fall. Failed him.

Take care...Alison and Kevin...

Keenly aware that his hands were shaking, that his heart was beating a hard tattoo against his ribs, he walked alone into the living room. Two cups of coffee sat neatly on the coffee table. He stood motionless, staring at them, not sure if he wanted to stay or leave, wondering which would cost him more.

“He went out like a light.”

He looked up to see Alison walk into the living room. There was a wariness in her eyes that hadn't been there before. He wondered if it was because she'd seen his reaction to Kevin's mention of Rick or maybe she was one of those women who had radar when it
came to knowing when a man was having inappropriate thoughts.

Taking in the length of her in that dress, he was definitely having inappropriate thoughts.

As casually as possible, Drew looked at his watch. “I'll hold off until about eight o'clock tomorrow morning, so he doesn't have to get up so early.”

She nodded. “Great. I don't like for him to get overtired. You know, because of the asthma.”

Several tense seconds passed. Drew didn't know what to do with his hands. He didn't know quite where to keep his eyes, but found that they went repeatedly to her legs where the velvet flesh of her calves made him wonder just how soft the flesh of her thighs was. He wondered what it would be like to touch her there. To run his hands over those silky calves, up to her thighs, and finally to the curve of hip and secret places he desperately wanted to know.

The image sent a hot rush of blood to his groin. The power of it disturbed him deeply, made him incredulous because he hadn't even touched her and already he was rock-hard and aching.

He needed to get the hell out of there before he did something stupid. One mistake could be forgiven. Two could not.

“I poured you a cup of coffee. Stay for five minutes?” She smiled. “It's decaf.”

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other to accommodate jeans that suddenly felt too tight, he looked over at Alison, trying hard to keep his eyes on hers and not that damn dress she was wearing. “I'd better go.”

“Oh, well, okay,” she said just a little too quickly. Then she cocked her head and looked at him closely.
“I hope Kevin's comment about Rick didn't upset you.”

The words jolted him. Not because he was surprised to hear them, but because now he knew she was going to expect him to discuss a subject he had absolutely no desire to broach.

“Alison—”

“He does that occasionally. Just brings up his dad out of the blue.”

“How much have you told him?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Not a whole lot. Just that his dad was a Navy search-and-rescue para jumper. That he was a pilot. A good man and a good father and that he was killed in an accident.”

Hearing the words spoken aloud made sweat break out on the back of his neck. Drew looked away.

“He's too young for me to get into any of the details.”

Drew wondered if those details would include the fact that he'd been the one to let go of him.

“Are you sure you're okay?” she asked.

“I'm fine. It's just...” He sighed. “It's a tough subject, that's all.”

“It is for me, too.” She paused. “But I'm able to talk about it.”

He didn't like the direction the conversation was going, so he said nothing at all.

“It's been four years, Drew.”

“I know how long it's been,” he snapped.

“You've dealt with his death, haven't you? I mean, you've come to terms with it, right?”

“Of course I have.”

“When Kevin mentioned Rick, you looked as if you were about to come apart at the seams.”

He hated it that he was so transparent. He hated even more the fact that he suddenly felt very vulnerable. “Just because I don't like to talk about the night my best friend died doesn't mean I haven't come to terms.”

“I know. I just...I want to make sure you're not blaming yourself.”

“I hate that it happened. There's a difference.”

“Sometimes, you seem troubled. It's like when you look at me, I see something in your eyes. Something you try to hide, but don't quite manage. A shadow that shouldn't be there.”

“Don't psychoanalyze me, Alison. I don't like it.”

“I don't like seeing you eaten alive by guilt.”

“You're reading something into it that isn't there.”

“Am I, Drew? Am I really?”

He wanted to laugh at her, prove to her she was wrong, only he couldn't because her words were hitting too damn close to home.

When he didn't answer, she continued. “The Navy cleared you. Everyone who was there and knew what happened that night knows you were not to blame in any way. Everyone except for you.”

“You don't know what I think.”

“Then why won't you sit down and tell me? It's been four years and yet we've never talked about it. Why do we have to keep dancing around the subject? Why is it that every time I bring it up, you suddenly find a reason to leave?”

“Maybe I just don't feel like being put on the spot about that night,” he said sharply.

Pain flashed in her eyes, and he was instantly sorry for his harsh tone. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Alison. He knew she was only trying to help. But
damn it, she wasn't helping. In fact, she was making everything worse. He didn't
need
her help. He didn't want it. And he sure as hell didn't feel up to having his feelings poured onto a slide and analyzed like some kind of scientific anomaly.