Soldier on Her Doorstep (11 page)

She didn't want to let go.

She was starting to read him. To understand him. To put all the pieces of the jigsaw together slowly. He might have stopped talking, but he hadn't closed himself off. His eyes were still light, open. He wasn't shutting her out. Alex's lips hinted at a smile. Hers were more than hinting, but she was trying to keep herself in check.

He's not going back. He's not going back.
The words just wouldn't stop ringing in her ears. Did it mean she could let something happen between them? That if something special developed she could find room for both William and Alex in her heart?

She let go of his hand as he pulled back. Reluctantly. He started to scoop up their belongings and she helped him to pack.

What she needed was to keep him talking without pushing the wrong buttons. They'd covered enough heavy stuff for today, but it felt good to just talk openly without him being guarded.

“Do you cook?” Was that a silly question for her to ask, given the years he'd probably spent in the army?

“I do a mean lasagna, and that's it,” he replied.

“One signature dish?”

He nodded before swinging a pack in her direction. A wolfish smile turned the corners of his mouth upwards in the most delicious arrow. “Just the one.”

She'd bet it tasted good too. It had been a while since anyone
had cooked her a meal, but she'd like to try his lasagna. Might even pick up a few tips.

“I'll do it for you one time before I go,” he promised.

A drum beat a loud rhythm in her ears. She'd almost forgotten their being together was coming to an end soon.

“Come on, Lilly.” She forced her voice to comply with her wishes. To not show him how upset she was.

Lilly stretched like a kitten, then stood up. She grinned at Alex. Lisa didn't miss the wink he gave her.

“Let's go.”

 

Alex fought to keep his pace slow and steady. He liked moving fast, but he wanted to enjoy walking beside Lisa. He'd had fun with his army buddies, his makeshift family, but times like this were a rarity for him. Once he'd enlisted he'd volunteered for every deployment and opportunity he could to stay overseas rather than come back to America. Because he'd had nowhere to go, nowhere to call home.

When others had gone home for even a few days if they could, jumped at every opportunity to come back, he'd stayed away. When the army was your only family you didn't have anything else or anyone to turn to.

Which was why this felt so special. This was what he imagined all those men loved about being back home with their loved ones. Just walking side by side with another human being, with a woman who made you feel happy and light. He could only imagine what it would have been like to come home to his parents—to his own family, even. Children.

For years he'd told himself he didn't want that kind of life. That he liked being a loner and didn't want to risk losing anyone close to him again.

But maybe he just hadn't realized what being loved, being part of a real family, would be like. Just what he'd sacrificed by closing off that part of him to any possibility of finding that kind of happiness for himself.

“Why are we stop—?” Alex's sentence died in his mouth.

Lisa turned to him. She motioned him to step backward.
Bear,
she mouthed frantically.

He obeyed instantly. “Quiet, Boston,” he growled, only just loud enough for the dog to hear.

 

Lisa watched as Alex wound the lead tight around his fist, twice, then reached down to half his height to gather Lilly up to him.

Lisa felt a tremor of fear run through her body, gather momentum, and then explode within her. She'd never experienced it before. She was usually so careful, so aware.

They were still edging away, and the bear hadn't noticed them. Not yet.

“She's fishing,” Lisa whispered.

Alex nodded.

“She hasn't seen us,” she added thankfully.

Alex pulled them away behind a thick cluster of trees before stopping. “But she knows we're here,” he warned.

Lisa's body shook again. Did she?

He must have seen the question in her eyes. “She knows. She just doesn't see us as a threat. Yet,” he clarified.

They could still see her. Only just. If Lisa hadn't been so afraid she would have found it beautiful. This huge black bear, female, flipping her paw into the water and expertly tossing fish out.

Lisa glanced at Alex. He didn't look at her, but just like the bear she knew he had seen her. He'd just chosen not to look back at her. Yet.

“We need to move. If she has young we could be in real trouble,” he murmured.

Lisa agreed. But she wasn't volunteering to move. Not with the bear right there.

“Can we walk back if we have to?” he asked.

She nodded. “It would be tricky, but it's possible.”

He looked uncertain.

“They feed often at this time of year,” she told him. She was
angry with herself for being careless and stupid. Her head had been filled with ideas of a picnic, and yet if she'd thought—really thought—she'd have known this was a real bear time of year. They were still hungry—plenty hungry—and they were always out fishing.

“I don't think she'll hurt us—not if she doesn't see us as a threat—but she might not take kindly to Boston if he starts to bark,” Alex said.

They were in serious danger. And for the first time in all her years of being an Alaskan, Lisa was worried that another animal was going to sneak up on them while they sat in wait. That she was going to make headlines in the local
Herald
about a trio eaten by a bear.

Alex met her eyes as his hold on Lilly tightened. She might not have known him for long, but seeing the grip he had on her daughter made her realize that he'd risk his own life to save Lilly. That she could trust him to get her precious daughter to safety. No matter what happened, he wasn't the type to let anyone down in a moment of crisis.

Boston let out a low whine and she dropped to her knees to comfort him. She buried her fingers in his long fur.

“So we're just going to wait?” Lilly suddenly asked.

Lisa sucked in her breath. “Shh, sweetie.”

“Stay quiet, Lilly.” Alex pressed his lips tight together to show her. “Quiet as a mouse, okay?”

Lilly tucked her chin down to her chest. Her blue eyes looked double their usual size as she clung to him. Lisa wished she was in his embrace herself, being held safe, but she banished the thought. Now was definitely not the time to think about why she wanted to be in Alex's arms.

He gave her a nudge with his leg and indicated with his head. Lisa followed his steel-capped gaze and found herself wriggling closer to him. She stood against him, their bodies skimming, and she had no intention of moving away.

The bear fell back to the bank, on all four legs now, and looked around. She sniffed at the air.

Lisa's heart thumped.

The bear finally turned her nose down and loped off into the forest.

“Let's go—in case she heads back this way,” Alex said authoritatively.

Lisa knew not to run, she knew it instinctively, but still she moved faster than she should.

“No.”
Alex's voice was no more than a whisper but it held as much command as a shout.

She slowed obediently.

“We need to move fast, but carefully. When we get to the boat I need all three of you in so I can push off quickly,” he said.

Lisa understood. She was just glad that today wasn't one of those days when she'd elected to head out with Lilly alone. Although she never would have taken Lilly and Boston on her own this far. They only ever pottered around the lake in the boat or strolled down the bank close to home when it was just the three of them.

They reached the boat.

“In,” urged Alex.

She took Lilly from him and he threw the dog in. They sat tight together as Alex pushed them out and jumped in. He took the oars from her.

“Hold that dog,” he muttered.

Oh, she was holding him all right. And Lilly. There was no chance at all she was going to let go of either of them.

 

Alex steered the boat toward the little jetty. He had eyed it up the other day, and realized he should have tied it there all along instead of putting it back in the shed.

A shudder hit him as he finally slowed. They could have been mauled by a bear today. Actually mauled. Or worse. Thank goodness the bear had stayed put. He didn't want to think about what could have happened out there.

He didn't want to think about being responsible for losing
someone he cared for again. For allowing another person he loved to die on his watch.

His parents had died taking him somewhere he'd begged to go. William had died protecting him. And now he'd been close to losing Lilly and Lisa because he had been less than aware of his surroundings.

Alex leaned forward to catch the side of the jetty and almost collided with Lisa. “Sorry,” he said quickly.

She flushed slightly, but he noticed it. Alex tied the rope and turned back to help his passengers out. Boston first, since he was moving from paw to paw, then Lilly.

He looked at Lisa, then offered her a hand.

She took it, but not before turning a smile his way that sent a
ping
straight through his skin. There was something about her, something that made him want to touch her and look at her and talk to her. But he couldn't. He was torn between want and guilt. Every bone in his body wanted her, craved her, but it was guilt, worry, responsibility that held him back.

“Thanks for what you did back there,” she said.

He didn't know what answer he could give her. He'd done nothing. Just acted like any man would have. Looked out for a woman and her child. He'd just been lucky the bear hadn't turned on them.

“It was nice knowing you were there for us,” she went on.

“Just doing what I had to,” he answered.

She stepped out onto the timber jetty, then turned, her hand raised to shield her eyes from the sun. “Don't think so little of yourself, Alex. Not all men can trust their instincts like that.”

She walked off before he could answer, with her hips swaying and hair swishing. Maybe if they'd met under different circumstances—if he hadn't caused her husband's death—then he'd have been able to act on his feelings. Maybe if he didn't feel like he'd already caused too many people close to him to lose their lives, then perhaps he could have given in to his feelings.

But he'd never have met her if he'd hadn't been the cause of
William's death, been there by his side when he'd lain there dying. He'd never have made his way to Alaska if he hadn't been fulfilling his promise to his friend.

And what a place it was. Wilderness to satisfy even the most enthusiastic of campers or nature-watchers, and water to soothe a man's soul. Or at least he hoped that would be the case. He had his pack in the car, ready to go camping, fishing—anything so long as he was with nature. When he moved on from here, getting to know the terrain was exactly what he'd thought about doing.

“Hey, Alex?”

He looked up. Lisa was walking back toward him.

“I might take you up on that dinner offer.”

A grin tugged at his lips. He couldn't help it. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She laughed and shuffled from foot to foot. “If you like you can cook up a storm in the kitchen while I send my book off to my editor.”

He shook his head, torn between laughing along with her and crying out loud like a baby. This was starting to feel too real, this thing he felt for her. Far too real. Despite his inner struggle, despite knowing it was dangerous, he wanted it all. To cook for her. To be with her. To laugh with her.

He should be packing up and moving on, not coming up with reasons to stay, to be closer to them. Trouble was, Lisa and Lilly were getting to him. They were under his skin and it was starting to feel good.

T
HE
smell of food hit Lisa's nostrils and made her mouth fill with hot saliva. She hadn't realized quite how hungry she was. She penned a brief message to her editor, then hit ‘send'.

Relief washed through her like a welcome drizzle of sunlight on heat-starved skin. Her brain and her creativity were zapped. Energy depleted. For now.

Lisa was grateful to have Alex downstairs. Having William home had always meant a happy, relaxed household, but he'd never cooked. Not in all their years together.

She didn't exactly know what she and Alex had. She just knew that being cooked for gave her a tingle of pleasure.

Lisa went into her bedroom and changed out of her walking clothes and into a favorite pair of jeans and a soft cashmere sweater. She eyed a pair of earrings but decided against them. Alex was cooking dinner in her own home. It wasn't like it was a date.

She squirted a spray of perfume in the air and walked through it, then decided to brush out her hair before twisting and pinning it loosely on her head.

Another waft of cooking tickled her nostrils and she followed it down the stairs. This was just too tempting.

Alex could possibly be her favorite person ever—for now.

Whoever had said that the way to a
man's
heart was through his stomach obviously hadn't met her ravenous appetite.

 

Alex looked up as Lisa appeared. He liked the look he found on her face. Even though she was laughing at him. Part of him had put the garment on just to see if he could make her smile.

“I see you found my apron?” she said, giggling.

He looked down and shrugged. “Seemed to fit, so I thought I would wear it.”

She slipped past him and sniffed at the air. “That does smell like good lasagna.”

He wasn't going to deny it. It felt good. Cooking again felt good. Being in Lisa's company felt wonderful. Just talking to another human being without having to look over his shoulder. Without having to jump at every bang. It all felt fantastic.

Without wondering if he might have fallen in love with her too.

Enjoying her company was one thing, but it couldn't be anything more. Not when it was his fault her husband had died. He had to remember that.

“Anything I can do?” she asked.

He snapped out of it.

Lisa leaned against the counter, her palms pressed flat behind her on the stainless steel. Her tummy peeked at him, her top riding up to reveal it.

“No.” He said it more firmly than he'd wanted, but she didn't seem fazed.

He forced his eyes back to the oven. He stared hard at the lasagna.
No
to being attracted to her.
No
to wanting her.
No
to anything that involved her in an intimate way.

He growled. A low rumble in the back of his throat.

“Sorry?”

Alex turned. “I didn't say anything.” He tried not to cringe.

She looked puzzled, but she didn't press the issue. “Wine,” she announced. “I can pour wine.”

She reached for the glasses—he hadn't known where to find them—and he saw a glimpse of lightly tanned skin again. This
time he swallowed the groan. The growl. Not wanting her was a fight his will was struggling to push back against.

“I hope you don't mind but I found a bottle. I opened it to let it breathe,” he said unevenly.

She turned that supersize grin on him again. “You
are
domesticated, soldier. Who would have thought?”

He didn't know whether to be flattered or offended. He decided to go with flattered.

Lisa twirled with the glasses and set them down. Then she held the bottle in the air, looked at the label, and poured it. “So tell me—who taught you how to make this world-famous lasagna?” She smiled as she held out the wineglass to him.

He took it. But he didn't exactly want to answer. “Just something I've learnt somewhere in my years.”

She didn't need to know that he'd sought to replicate his mother's signature dish as soon as he'd been old enough to cook, or try to.

“Ah,” she sighed, before sniffing delicately at the wine, swilling it and then taking a sip. “Just what I needed.”

He couldn't take his eyes off her. Couldn't stop staring at her no matter how hard he tried. For once desire was overpowering his guilt. The knowledge shook him. There was obviously a first time for everything.

Alex took a sip, a much larger one than she had, then forced the glass to the counter. His fingers were in danger of crushing the stem.

“I see you managed to keep Lilly entertained.” Lisa took a few steps so she could look into the lounge at her daughter.

“I guessed I was being had when she told me you
always
let her watch movies before dinner,” he said ruefully.

Lisa winked at him and swilled another sip. “She's already figured that you like to say yes to her.”

“I guess.”

Lisa looked back and watched Lilly some more.
“Lady and the Tramp?”

Even Alex knew it was an old movie. “She likes the greats, does she?”

He leaned on the counter—close to her, but not too close. He could smell her perfume, the light, fruity spice lifting up to fill his nostrils. She smelt divine. And his willpower was so diminished it was non-existent.

“I think it's the dogs slurping spaghetti together that gets her.” She looked at him. “That was what made it my favorite movie.”

Alex found it hard to swallow.

“Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help here?” she asked.

He shook his head. Firmly. “Nothing at all.”

Lisa shrugged gracefully, then gave in.

What he hadn't expected was for her to wiggle up on a stool and rest her elbows on the counter to watch him.

He found it awkward. Exciting. Knowing she was sitting there behind him. He also found it unnerving. He'd never cooked for a woman before—never felt so intimate with another human being.

“You sure look good in an apron,” she commented as he bent over to peek in the oven at the bubbling lasagna.

He cringed again and straightened hurriedly. Did that mean she was looking at his rear end? Now he felt really uncomfortable!

 

Lisa watched as Alex moved about the kitchen. If he wasn't so nervous he'd look perfectly at home there. He kept himself busy, finding ingredients and chopping.

She liked to watch a man work. Make that
loved
to. And she particularly liked to see a man in the kitchen. Or she now realized she liked it. She'd never actually had a man cook in her kitchen before.

Only problem was that she was starving. Her eyes flitted over Alex's body, up his chest and to his face. If she had a few
more glasses of wine she'd be tempted to admit she was starving hungry for more than just food.

Alex cleared his throat. She made her mouth shut. Any wider open and she'd have dribbled the wine right down her front. It felt naughty. But somehow so right.

“I think we're almost ready,” he said.

Lisa dropped her glass to the table, then went to retrieve his. It was almost empty. She reached for it, and the bottle. Then she went back for the salad. She attempted to steal a piece of cucumber, but her hand froze mid-move.

“Huh-hmm.” The rumble of his voice made it impossible to steal anything.

She looked over her shoulder. Alex was holding the spatula at a very ominous angle.

A giggle rang out. Lilly was standing by the table, watching them.

“I didn't take you to be so protective of a salad.” Lisa said the words dryly, but inside she felt weak. Not witty at all.

“Out of the kitchen, woman. Out now,” Alex ordered.

He hadn't moved or changed his stance. Lilly was still in hysterics.

Lisa put her hands up in the air like a criminal caught in the act. “Okay, okay. Guilty as charged.”

Having a man in her kitchen felt as intimate as having one in her bedroom. It had been her private space for so long, her domain, and yet here he was, taking charge and looking so…at home.

It scared her. And excited her.

Butterflies started to tickle their wings inside her stomach. She sincerely hoped food would appease them.

“No laughing at your mother.” She gave Lilly her sternest look before falling into the seat beside her at the table. Lilly ignored her, as she'd known she would.

Alex came over with the lasagna.

“Yum!”

Lisa met Alex's gaze as Lilly banged a fork on the table in
excitement. Lisa would usually tell her off for bad manners, but tonight she was less about manners and more about living in the now.

Would this feel more like a date if Lilly wasn't here? If they weren't in the house she'd shared with William?

Resolutely, she turned her mind back to the food. She needed to focus on safe thoughts. Happy thoughts. Like eating. Like her daughter. Like the weather…

Who was she kidding? It felt like the first date of her life, even though it was neither her first, nor anything resembling a date.

“I hope it's okay.” Alex drew her attention back to reality. “It's been a while since I've made it.”

“It smells delicious,” Lisa said with honesty. She nodded at Lilly. “And this one doesn't lie.”

Alex served Lilly first, but when he went to serve her salad she shook her head. He angled his. It was like they were speaking in a secret language.

Lisa wondered for the umpteenth time what it was they had between them. And she wondered exactly what had been said that day they'd been in the boat alone, before it had capsized.

It was no surprise to Lisa that Lilly won the dinner battle.

“She does usually eat greens,” explained Lisa.

The look Alex gave her said
yeah, right
, but it was true. Although there was nothing usual about tonight, so she was throwing caution to the wind. For once.

Tonight she wasn't a widow. Or anybody's wife. Tonight she was just a single mother, enjoying dinner with her daughter and a friend. That was as far as she was going to let her mind go, for now.

She passed her plate to Alex and watched as he ladled it with lashings of lasagna and a pile of salad. Her perfect meal.

Lilly was already tucking in, despite how hot it was, picking around the edges. Lisa was ready to do the same. Anything to distract her from Alex.

“Bon appétit.”
She raised her glass in the air.

He did the same, but they didn't clink them. Instead they watched one another. Slowly. Letting their eyes drink their fill. She didn't dare hope that he was thinking the same as her. Didn't even know what
she
was really thinking.

Lisa reached for the wine. “Another?”

“Please.”

He looked away then, and it took her a long time before she could brave a look back at him.

Her toes were wriggling. Her tastebuds were alight.

“You're going to have to share the recipe for this tomato sauce with me,” she said.

Alex tapped at his nose. “Family secret.”

She felt the pain of that comment. That made him the last person to hold that secret. But it was the first time he'd made a joke like that. It felt as if he was, in a way, finally letting her see the true him.

“I could trade you for the secret of pink macaroons?” she offered.

He grinned at her. Really grinned. “Rosewater macaroons don't sound very manly. Besides, everyone can have your recipe. Your book'll be on the shelves when?”

“Maybe a year. Maybe longer.”

He laughed. “My point exactly. You can't trade something secret for something that will be public knowledge.”

“I'll have you know that my recipes are not available for
public knowledge
, Alex.” She stared him down. “The privilege of that will set you back at least twenty bucks.”

Lilly pushed her plate in. “Finished.”

There was not a lick of pasta or sauce left.

Alex reached across the table and tickled at her hand. “Did you slip that to Boston while I wasn't looking?” he teased.

She shook her head. Her just-grown top teeth bit down on her lower lip.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She slipped away from the table and Lisa refocused on Alex.

They sat there in silence, finishing off their meal.

“What do you say I put Lilly to bed and we go for a walk outside?” The question burst from her. It felt like a big risk, blurting that out.

Alex's eyes looked hungry. Eager. She couldn't mistake it.

“I'll clean up while you put her to bed, if you like?” he suggested. “Deal.”

Lisa didn't like the cook having to clean too, but it was only once. She didn't like putting Lilly straight to bed on a full stomach either. But sometimes rules were made to be broken.

 

Alex wasn't sure whether to sit, stand, or just go wait outside. The two glasses of wine had started to help, but now they were just making him even more nervous.

Of what? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that there was something about being in a space alone with Lisa that made him feel in equal parts terrified and excited. Exhilarated, almost.

He stood, awkward, in the middle of the room. He could hear her upstairs, probably saying a final good-night to Lilly.

Alex decided on the sit option. He dropped to the armchair. It wasn't as comfortable as the sofa, but it did the trick.

Then he locked eyes with William.

His whole body jerked.

The photo of William in its frame just stared at him with an empty gaze. Guilt stung his body once again, with the ferocity of a blizzard of wasps.

A noise indicated that Lisa was descending the stairs.

He closed his eyes, counted to five, then opened them, looking in the other direction. William was not going to haunt him now. Alex wasn't doing anything wrong. They'd just had dinner, they were now going for a walk, then he'd wish her good-night.