Rhonda+Nelson+-+The+Soldier (4 page)

little home away from home, and couldn’t deny the pride and satisfaction she felt fill her chest.

This little shop had been a dream come true and she’d put as much time and effort into the

aesthetics as she had the food she offered here. With varying shades of lavender, lots of silver

paint and gilt, delicate lacy chairs and a black-and-white harlequin pattern on the floor, the small

dining room’s whimsical décor was reminiscent of Alice In Wonderland. She hosted tea, bridal

and birthday parties and knew that those frequently booked events were a direct result of the

atmosphere she’d created. She was proud of the life she’d made here, even if, admittedly, there

were times she was lonely.

But only lonely for Adam.

Winnie assured Jana she’d have the cake ready for tomorrow, then watched her brokenhearted

friend leave the shop. Honestly, the idea that Eddie was cheating made her absolutely heartsick.

He and Jana had been high school sweethearts. They’d survived the college transition, the usual

newlywed chaos, and had been trying to have a baby for almost two years now.

Jana had confided that the strain of infertility was wreaking havoc on their relationship. Still,

Winnie would never have imagined that Eddie would abandon fidelity and betray Jana’s trust

like that.

That was one of the benefits to being single, Winnie thought with a sad smile. She never had to

worry about anyone cheating on her.

She paused, giving the thought more consideration, then shook her head. If she were ever to win

Adam’s heart, she knew he’d be faithful. She couldn’t imagine Adam ever saying ‘I do’ and then

reneging on those vows. It would totally go against his character, completely out of the realm of

his abilities.

General Jack McPherson had taught both of his boys that a man was only as good as his word

and they’d taken the lesson to heart. Don’t say it unless you mean it, don’t commit unless you’re

prepared to follow through. How many times had she heard those words come out of Adam’s

mouth? She laughed softly. Too many to count.

No, the woman who finally landed Adam McPherson would never have to worry about being

lied to or agonize over when or if he was coming home. Adam was a rock, solid and immovable

in his beliefs. Whoever eventually ended up with him would have a guy she could genuinely

depend on.

If only that it could be her, Winnie thought morosely. If only he’d choose her, then decide to

stay in Bethel Bay and build a life with her. Make love and babies and institute movie nights,

hold hands and snuggle on the couch. Unbidden an image of a bronze-haired baby boy with

heavily-lashed blue-green eyes suddenly materialized in her mind’s eye, startling a soft gasp out

of her lungs. Her insides twisted with sharp longing and her arms suddenly ached for that child.

Stop it, Winnie told herself, slamming the door on that line of thinking before it could do more

damage. Just stop. This baby—their baby—was never meant to be.

Frankly, Adam had never intimated that he even wanted a family.

It was career first. Everything

else was secondary.

But God, how she wanted that life. How she wanted Adam…and knew that she would always

want him. He was the disease and the cure, the poison and the antidote. Changing how she felt

about him was out of the question. She’d tried many, many times over the years, but the end

result was always the same.

She was incapable of not loving him…and therefore incapable of doing anything that would

result in his overall unhappiness.

That didn’t mean she didn’t occasionally want to throttle him, Winnie thought, smiling. She did.

And the urge to give him a swift kick when the blockhead did something stupid was almost

impossible to suppress. Like staying in bed for two weeks. Idiot.

He knew better. How was he

supposed to rejoin his Special Forces team if he didn’t rebuild his strength?

Honestly, if he lost his career, Winnie wasn’t altogether sure how he would cope. He might fall

further into a depression, but Winnie knew that would be just the tip of the iceberg. She winced.

In losing his career, he’d lose himself.

And she’d rather let him go again than let that happen.

Natalie thought she was crazy, of course, and wanted her to take the “seize the moment” advice

she’d once given Natalie. But despite all the bravado, Winnie knew she couldn’t do it.

In the first place, she lacked the nerve, sad but true. And in the second…she couldn’t risk the

rejection. Somehow it was easier to pine away for him without making a play than to share her

feelings and have them rejected. She shook her head. After all, she still had some hope in this sad

little scenario that a rebuff would completely obliterate. She’d rather live alone with the hope

than alone without it. This morning, she’d accused Adam of being a coward, but in truth she was

the one who was afraid.

She hated that, of course. In many ways, Winnie was a lot like Adam. She set a goal and saw it

through. Sports, marathons, college and her shop were all prime examples of her tenacity. She

prided herself on those successes. But when it came to Adam…

For whatever reason, all of that

courage and determination simply fell by the wayside. It melted under the heat of that clear bluegreen

stare, was swept away by the mere upswing of his smile. He was her one failure, her one

weakness.

Her Achilles’ heel.

Winnie glanced at the clock. Three twenty-five. It was almost time to meet him, she thought.

And she was going to need every ounce of strength she had.

4

HE SHOULD HAVE WORNsweats, Adam thought, feeling the heat as every pair of eyes in the

park lingered on him while he worked with the girls. But it was ninety freakin’ degrees and the

humidity made it feel like one-hundred. He had no intention of frying out here just to make

everyone else feel more comfortable. Honestly, didn’t they know it was rude to stare?

Manners, people. Here’s a thought. Why don’t you get some?

He gritted his teeth, and continued with batting practice, instructing one of the girls to stand

closer to the plate and choke up on the bat. Who would have guessed that it would be easier for

him to adjust to the prosthetic than it was for him to get used to the blatant staring. Most people

were merely curious, others pitying. He was an anomaly to them, he knew, but it still didn’t

make it any less unnerving.

“They can’t help it, you know,” the tween on the plate said in a low, matter-of-fact voice.

Mallory, if memory served. “You’re different. They have to look.”

Startled at her candor, Adam blinked and then grunted because he didn’t know what to say.

“I get it all the time, too. Because of my eyes,” she explained.

“You won’t get used to it, but

you’ll stop caring.” She said it with such authority he was irrationally inclined to believe her.

Her eyes? Ah, Adam thought, noticing the difference between the two for the first time. One

blue, one green. There was a medical term for that, but he couldn’t remember it.

“I used to wear colored contacts, but they irritated my eyes,” she said. “Besides, I was only

doing it to fit in and I’m not meant to fit in.” She winked. “I’m meant to stand out. You are, too,

now, so you might as well accept it.”

Her blasé wisdom jolted a laugh from his throat. “How do you know I haven’t?”

She rolled her beautiful, unique mismatched eyes as though it were completely obvious. “I can

hear you grinding your teeth. You’re going to give yourself a headache.” She dropped an

appraising look at his prosthetic. “How does that thing work? You don’t even limp.”

Adam noticed the pack of girls move in closer, evidently curious as to his reply.

“Beyond the fact that it’s got hundreds of little sensors which adjust and react according to my

weight and movement, I’m not sure.”

He’d gone to half a dozen fittings to get it just right. He’d even been trained to cover minor

repairs, and actually kept parts with him. But really, he was just extremely grateful to be vertical

again. He felt completely helpless when he wasn’t wearing it and, for a guy who’d never known

an instant of insecurity, that had been a damned difficult adjustment. The evenings were still the

toughest, when he took it off to go to bed. He was at his most vulnerable then and he knew it. It

was…unsettling.

“You mean like nerves?” Mallory asked.

“Simulated nerves, I suppose,” he said, nodding. These kids were smarter than he anticipated.

Not that he had a terrible amount of experience with kids at all.

They were an alien species, one

he’d never given much thought to, if he were perfectly honest.

Though he knew it pained his

mother, he’d always been so focused on his career he’d never stopped to think about adding a

wife and family to his life.

A sudden image of Winnie holding a bronze-haired baby with her dark blue eyes suddenly

flashed through his mind, momentarily startling the breath out of him. Longing and a strange sort

of regret welled up inside of him, both emotions so foreign and unexpected they shook him to the

core. Adam mentally swore. What the hell was wrong with him?

He’d never longed for that life?

And regret? How could he regret something he’d never wanted?

Never?

Career first. Being a soldier, that’s what really mattered.

“Doesn’t it rub your leg raw?” another girl asked, thankfully pulling his thoughts away from that

distracting, wholly unexpected line of thought. “I had a cast that did that once.”

The group had drifted closer and was hanging onto his every word. “It did in the beginning,” he

admitted. “But I’ve got a special ‘sock’ that prevents that from happening now.” He tugged a bit

from the top and showed them.

“Cool,” Mallory said, nodding as though she were impressed.

“Coach Winnie says you can still

run. That you can do everything you used to be able to do before your accident. Is that true?”

Winnie and her group had finished up and were strolling toward him. She’d obviously caught

the tail end of the question because she merely smiled and lifted her slim shoulders in a small

shrug. She wore a baby blue sleeveless T-shirt, a pair of gray shorts—which showcased an

exceptionally fine ass—and socks with little pink pom-poms on the back. He inwardly laughed,

wondering why he found that small distinction so appropriate and sexy as hell. Her tanned skin

was flushed and dewy with exertion and it didn’t take much imagination at all to envision her

having the same look after a vigorous bit of hot, hard, sweaty bed sport.

She excelled at all sports, so he had no doubt that she’d be every bit as enthusiastic and talented

in the lovemaking department. Just the thought of it made his balls tighten in his shorts, sent a

stirring sensation through his loins. His gaze lingered too long on her mouth, causing her to

frown slightly. With effort, he forced his gaze away.

“It’s true,” Adam admitted. “But I’m not so sure I can do them as well as before.”

“That’s what practice is for, right?” Mallory said.

He chuckled, wishing it were so simple. “I suppose.”

“Enough, girls,” Winnie said, sparing him the rest of the Q&A.

“Game tomorrow at five. We’ll

be here for batting practice at four, for those of you who are interested.” They formed a huddle,

stacked their hands on one another’s, then belted out “Sand Gnats!” A second later, they

scattered, leaving him alone with Winnie for the first time since he’d gotten to the park.

“Sand Gnats?” he said, grinning. “That’s a bit humiliating.”

She nudged him with her shoulder and the contact burned through him. “Hey, no knocking our

name,” she chided, smiling. “My little bugs have done well this season.”

She had a lot of talent on her team, so he could certainly see why.

And she was a damned fine

coach. She had a wonderful, encouraging, nurturing rapport with her girls. No doubt she’d make

one helluva mother, Adam thought, before he could stop himself.

Shit.

Wrong line of thinking. Unless there was an immaculate conception, Winnie would have to be

in love with another guy to get pregnant. Because he knew Winnie wouldn’t do it any other way.

The irrational pain that accompanied that thought was enough to make his hands ball into fists.

“How well?” he made himself ask, purposely trying to distract himself. All the more reason he

didn’t need to be around her. The attraction alone was too much to contend with. Adding all

these other bizarre feelings—ones he’d never entertained about anyone else—into the mix was

seriously messing with his head.

He couldn’t afford to lose focus. He had to keep it together.

She started gathering equipment and loading it into a giant duffle bag. “Seven and two.”

He whistled low and bent to retrieve a ball, absently noting how natural the movement felt. He

heard the solid clang of a metal bat hitting a ball and a dog barked in the distance. Typical ball

field sounds. Comforting. “Nice,” he told her, impressed.

“Playoffs?”

Winnie straightened and hefted the bag over her shoulder.

Frowning, he wrestled it away from

her and slung it over his own. They slowly made their way across the grass toward the parking

lot.

“It’s probable,” she said. “Although, it still depends on how well we do in these next few