The Homecoming (22 page)

Her voice trailed off again.

“Mothers worry,” he said, even as he suspected Dr. Faith Blanchard would’ve called the Oceanside hospital and gotten hold of her daughter’s medical records. Which meant she knew exactly what had happened.

“Tell me about it.”

They sat there, side by side, neither one saying anything.

Sax was just thinking how comfortable it was to be with Kara this way, in this place, when finally she broke the silence.

“So, my idea is, if you ever start having problems readjusting to civilian life, or dealing with everyone making you out to be the town hero, which has got to be a burden—especially given that, from what I’ve heard, you were the sole survivor of that last mission—you can call me and I’ll do the same for you. Not that you’d need talking off a ledge,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “But just in case you need a sounding board. Someone to vent to.”

“SEALs don’t vent. That’s for girlie men.” He smiled when he said it, which drew a welcome smile in return.

“Of course they don’t. But everyone needs someone. And with Cole all caught up in getting married, you probably wouldn’t want to go dumping personal stuff on him. So I’m just saying that if you should need someone, well, I’m available.”

Sax understood her reasoning. But dammit, he didn’t want to be Kara’s sponsor, like they were in some damn twelve-step program. Sure, he’d do anything in his power to help her dump the guilt he knew all too well, guilt he also knew Jared would not want her to be feeling. But the problem was, there were a lot more things he’d rather be doing with her. Hot, wet, carnal stuff.

Stuff he had no business thinking of. Not as messed-up as he was right now. But sometimes the little head refused to listen to the big head.

She said she was available. Probably, with a little bit of effort, he’d be able to move things beyond what she was suggesting. The trouble with that idea was that the last thing he wanted was for her to regret being with him.

Which she probably should. Because, if he were to be honest with himself, while he might not be as bad off as it sounded as if Jared had been, he also doubted he’d be in any shape for a serious relationship until he managed to exorcise those ghosts rattling around in his brain.

As Quinn McKade’s sniper spotter, it hadn’t been anything for him to take an entire day to move the length of a couple football fields. What a lot of people didn’t realize was that while ten percent of his and Quinn’s job had been to act as surgeons with bullets (neutralizing the enemy), ninety percent of the time they were moving forward of the team, gathering intel, lying in wait for hours. Or even days.

So even as he felt the painful ache of desire, although it sure wasn’t his first choice, Sax was willing to help Kara find her way off this dead-end road that had led her to an undeserved guilt trip.

He was going to stay patient and do this for her. Not for Jared, who—thank you, Jesus!—hadn’t shown up to warn Sax away from his wife.

At least, not yet.

What was it about Sax Douchett that had always had her telling him things that she’d never shared with anyone else? All right, obviously she wouldn’t have been able to keep her unplanned pregnancy a secret for long. But still, Sax had been the first to know. Even before she’d broken the news to Jared.

She’d never really had anyone to share such confidences with. Not that she hadn’t had girlfriends. She had. But they’d been casual, occasional slumber-party type friends. Certainly not anyone who knew all your secret hopes and desires and would sigh, giggle, and moan with you over your latest crush.

Because Jared had always been not only her latest and only crush, but her best friend. These days he’d have been her BFF. Unfortunately, as she’d discovered the hard way,
forever
could be a relative term.

During her senior year, after Jared had enlisted, Sax had done his best to fill that huge gaping hole in her life, and only now was Kara beginning to fully understand the sacrifices he’d made in order to always be there for her.

He’d also been hot. Not that she’d been the least bit tempted to stray while Jared was away. But she had, after all, been a normal teenage girl with normal teenage hormones, and there’d been something wickedly sexy about Sax. He’d been Johnny Depp in torn blue jeans.

So, needless to say, she’d looked.

And that one unforgettable night, she had done more than look.

Not that their shared kiss would have gone anywhere. Even if Sax hadn’t pulled away. Because if there was anything worse than a pity kiss, it would have to be pity sex, and fortunately he’d saved her from having to suffer that!

At least, that was what Kara had always told herself, on those rare occasions she allowed herself to think about it.

She could tell he was interested. That if she suddenly jumped him now, right here on his wraparound porch, he probably wouldn’t push her away. And if it weren’t for Trey, she might actually allow herself to just go for it.

She was, after all, a grown woman, with a woman’s needs, and considering that Jared’s PTSD—if that was what it, indeed, had been—had made him uninterested in sex from the time he’d returned from Iraq, then factoring in his deployment, she realized it had been a very long time since she’d had an orgasm that hadn’t been of the do-it-herself variety.

The truth was, celibacy was making her feel old. Older, even, than her own mother, who’d definitely had a speculative gleam in her eye as John O’Roarke had headed toward them across that cafeteria floor.

The problem was, Kara wasn’t solely a widow. She was also a mother of a son who’d already lost one person he’d adored. If she became emotionally involved with someone, it followed that Trey, too, would be affected. And if any hypothetical affair she might be considering went south, he’d only be hurt again. Something she couldn’t allow.

“We’re just talking friendship,” she said. “Not the kind with benefits.”

“You just lost me.”

“I mean, we can’t have sex,” she decided.

Sax rubbed that shadowed chin. Slowly. Thoughtfully. As if thinking her words over. “Okay. Though I don’t recall suggesting it.”

“You hadn’t
. Yet
.”

Damn
. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. But now that she had, perhaps it was a good thing just to get the subject out into the open.

“But I thought it was only fair to let you know, in case you ever might want to consider it—not that I’m saying there aren’t a lot of women in town who’d love to go to bed with you, because you’re even hotter than you were back in school, but . . . And, oh, God, now I’m babbling, which I never, ever do, so would you please just tell me to shut up before I make an even bigger fool of myself?”

“I’m a male.” He told her something that was all too obvious. The man radiated what were undoubtedly lethal amounts of testosterone without even trying. No doubt about it—Sax Douchett should come with a bright red warning label attached. “No way am I going to think a woman foolish, or tell her to shut up, when she’s telling me I’m hot.”

“Now you’re laughing at me.” She could hear it in his voice.

“Not at you. Maybe at the situation,” he allowed. “And the timing, which, between us, always seems to suck.”

And couldn’t she agree with that? “It’s nothing against you, personally.”

“Glad to hear that.”

“It’s Trey. I don’t want him hurt.”

Every bit of humor left his eyes. His mouth, which had been quirked at the corners, hardened into a harsh line. “No way would I ever do anything to hurt your son, Kara.”

“You wouldn’t mean to.”
Damn
.

Why didn’t someone just throw her a shovel so she could dig this hole she’d gotten herself into a little deeper? Like to China?

“But if we were to get involved and become a couple, since you’ve already invited him to ride in the car at the parade with you, and play with your dog, well, he’d become even more involved with you.”

“And the harm in that would be?”

“When we broke up, either you’d be out of his life—”

“Interesting that you’re already looking ahead to the breakup before we’ve gotten to first base,” he said mildly. “So, who, exactly, do you see doing the dumping?”

“I’ve no idea.” Weren’t there earthquakes in this part of the country? Couldn’t the ground just open up and swallow her? Now? And put her out of her misery? “It could be mutual.”

“Amiable, then.”

“This isn’t high school, when sex is a forbidden, guilty pleasure and breakups are earth-shattering. We’re both adults. We were once close friends, so there’s no reason to think we couldn’t have sex—”

“Or a longer-term sexual relationship.”

“Or that,” she agreed. The idea was so damn tempting. “But Trey’s a child. He doesn’t understand that affairs don’t necessarily last. So he’d get his hopes up. Maybe even start thinking of the possibility of you becoming his stepfather. Then his heart would be shattered again. And I can’t risk that.”

He remained quiet for a while, looking out over the ocean, where the whitecaps were gilded with silver moonlight. Somewhere in the distance, a buoy clanged. Why couldn’t there be buoys in life? Kara wondered. To warn a person away from dangerous shoals?

“And you think I’d risk that?” he asked finally.

“You wouldn’t mean to, but it could still happen.”

“A meteorite could hit this porch while we’re sitting here, too.”

“I know you think I’m being foolish—”

“No. I think you’re being a protective mother. The way good mothers are supposed to be.”

“Okay.” She blew out a quick breath, relieved that not only had they come to an understanding, but it looked as if she might even be able to escape this too-personal conversation with a modicum of dignity intact. “Then we agree?”

“That you’re a supermom? Absolutely.”

“I was referring to our being friends.”

“I’ve always been your friend, sugar. Your having a son hasn’t changed that. Hell, if you’d come back home with Jared, we’d still be friends.”

Kara wasn’t sure that would have been possible. But since it was a moot point, she wasn’t going to argue it. “
Just
friends.” She wanted to get this clear. For both of them.

Another silence. Which lasted longer than the others. “I can live with that.”

“Really?”

It was what she’d wanted. So why did she suddenly feel disappointed he’d agreed so easily? If he were seriously interested in her, in a sexual way, shouldn’t he at least try to stake a claim?

Which was even more ridiculous, since no way would she want a man who even thought along those lines.

He laughed, a deep, rough sound that got beneath her skin and made her tingle in places she’d forgotten she
could
tingle. “I suspect this is one of those cases where I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t. There’s no right answer. . . .

“Tell you what. Trey and I, we’ll be guy buddies. You and I will be friends. Kinda like we were back in our senior year. You want to take things to the next level, you’re going to have to be the one to make the call. How’s that?”

“Entirely reasonable.”

Kara told herself that a prudent, sensible woman would be relieved to have gotten her point across so well. And she’d always been both prudent and sensible. So why was she feeling let down?

“You’re dead on your feet,” he said, unknowingly giving her an excuse for her uncharacteristic ambivalence. “Maybe I ought to carry the kid out to the car and give you a ride home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” A burst of welcome annoyance burned away the odd lingering confusion. “I’m a cop. I’ve worked double shifts lots of times. I’ll just go in and get him and—”

“Why don’t you leave him here?”

“Because he has a perfectly good home with my mother and me.”

“Your mother’s in Portland with John and Danny,” he reminded her. “And you’re meeting with Cait tomorrow morning. It’s Sunday. I’ll feed him breakfast, take him with me to the lumberyard to pick up some building materials for Bon Temps. Maybe let him hammer a few nails, get him some lunch, then drop him back at your mom’s house around suppertime.”

“That’s very generous of you, but—”

He put a finger against her lips, cutting off her planned protest. And Kara knew she was in deep, deep trouble when that simple touch had her toes curling in her shoes—those ugly black oxfords that suddenly had her wishing she were wearing something sexy, like Sherry’s high, rhinestone-strapped sandals.

“It’s what friends do,” he said. “Truth is, I’m looking forward to it. And, since you’re the one who mentioned the boy living with two women, having him spend the day with Cole and me learning manly construction skills isn’t such a bad thing.”

“It’s a good thing.” And something Jared had always been looking forward to doing once he got out of the Marines and settled into normal family life. “May I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Does anyone ever say no to you?”

“You would have. That night. Even if I’d begged.”

The look he was giving her was even warmer than that brief touch had been, creating sparks from embers she’d thought had long cooled.

You have two, maybe even three crimes to solve
, she scolded herself firmly.
You don’t have time to even be thinking about sex.

“I have a hard time imagining you begging for anything.” She stood up. “I want to check Trey one more time. Then I really do need to go.”

After ensuring that her son was still fine—better than fine, if the way he was sleeping with his arm flung around Velcro’s huge neck was any indication—Kara decided that Sax’s suggestion really did make the most sense.

While he might not have gotten off the porch when she’d arrived, he walked her to the cruiser. She’d just reached for the door when he caught her hand.