Chapter Eleven

Pleased Angela had invited him in for a taste of her homemade coconut cream pie, Billy leaned against the large doorway into the kitchen. From where he stood, he had a camera-lens view of her very nicely rounded derriere. Head inside the fridge, she repositioned miscellaneous items inside before turning with a cream pie in her hands and a huge grin on her face.

Confusion replaced the bright smile when she saw he hadn’t taken a seat. “Oh, uh. Is there something wrong with the kitchen chairs? I mean, would you rather sit at the…” Her gaze ricocheted from the kitchen table to the living room sofa to the lanai and back. “Where would you like to sit?”

Her wandering eye took another quick race from room to room. Only from years of learning to look for the tells that showed the enemy’s weakness did he notice her gaze hesitate briefly at his prosthetic leg.

Two years ago the slightest indication someone was feeling sorry for him would have triggered his anger with the force of a .44 Magnum. Now the only thing keeping him from being mildly irritated was knowing it was healthier for him if she thought he was uncomfortable than knowing he’d been staring at her ass. “The kitchen’s fine.”

“Would you please grab those plates and forks I left on the counter?” She tipped her head, pointing to her left.

“Sure.” Between her shapely rear end and the amazing pie, his drool glands were working overtime. And the first bite did not disappoint. “Oh, this is just wonderful.”

“Thank you.”

“Where did you learn to bake?”

“Mom. She was a pretty good cook, but she was a fabulous baker. Some of it I learned. But some things never taste as good as what Mom bakes. Coconut cream pie is one of my best.”

He waved a fork at her. “You could sell these to any pie shop in town. Hell, you could open your own pie shop.” He shoveled another forkful into his mouth.

“Glad you like—”

The sounding of his cell phone cut her off. Billy glanced at the phone and without chewing, swallowed the mouthful of pie. “I need to take this.”

Angela pointed to the lanai. “If you need some privacy—”

“Thanks.” He stepped over to the patio door but stopped at the glass, his gaze falling on the ocean in the distance. Taking in a deep breath, he tapped his phone. “Hi, Claire.”

“Hi, yourself.” Claire’s voice carried softly through the airwaves.

“I was about to call in the SEALs to track you down.”

“Sorry, summer is always insane. The last few days have had me running to keep up with the kids’ schedule. This is the first chance I’ve had to listen to voice mail. Is something wrong?”

He hated that she was doing all this alone. Not that every military wife with a deployed husband wasn’t in the same situation. But her husband wasn’t coming home to make things less busy. Joe would never be there to help with car pools, homework, and bicycles labeled Some Assembly Required. “I saw the photo you posted on Facebook. They’ve grown.”

“Kids do that, you know?” Claire chuckled with real humor in her voice. Good. He wanted her to be happy. Needed her to be happy. “Or did you think you came out of the womb a six-foot hunk?”

Now that was someplace he didn’t want to go. “Susie reminds me of Joe.”

The phone line went silent, and he wondered how he could so easily fit his size-thirteen shoes into his average-sized mouth. “JJ favors you, I think.”

“He looks like my dad. To hear Dad talk, you’d think Joe and I had nothing to do with JJ’s good looks.”

Billy opened the door and stepped out onto the lanai. “It’s been almost a year since I saw the kids. I was thinking maybe it’s time I came for a visit. You know, so they don’t forget their Uncle Billy.”

“Bill. We’re fine. We’re all right. I’m all—”

“I know. I just thought…” What? Visiting a few days, cleaning out her gutters, and tossing a ball with her son could make up for a dead husband. He’d tried that already. “You’ll let me know if you need anything, right?”

“You know I will. Are you okay? You sound a little funny.”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He hesitated. “Just have a lot on my mind.”

“Well, if it involves a nice girl, don’t think too hard.” Claire had a hefty infectious laugh that came from deep inside her.

Billy chuckled despite the turmoil chatting with Claire always stirred. “Hug those kids from their Uncle Billy.”

They said their good-byes, and Billy stared at the disconnected cell. Lifting his gaze to the woman inside, he watched Angela sitting at the table. This wisp of a woman had marched into his life almost two years ago and stolen his breath with a simple wave. All the time he’d sat back as she fruitlessly tried to garner the attention of his best friend.

Was it really only a couple of weeks ago his long-sleeping senses came bursting back to life with a simple intoxicating kiss? Once again he glanced down at the phone still clutched in his hand.

For months after the explosion, through the early depression, the anger, the hurt, the rebellion, he hadn’t cared if he ever got it up again. Then as months passed, after settling in Savannah, he feared he couldn’t.

He’d been released from the hospital. Done his rehab. Learned to walk with the state-of-the-art prosthesis. Something that not all vets had the benefit of. Something he chose never to forget.

The navy had sent him home. Instead of making his way to Kona, he found himself on a flight to Savannah. To Joe’s home. Checked into a local extended-stay hotel, he’d called the now-familiar number and announced to his buddy’s widow that he’d arrived for a visit.

“Oh my God. You should have called me. I would have picked you up at the airport.”

Claire’s excitement made him smile. Not something he did much lately. “Honestly? I was afraid you’d tell me not to come.”

“Never! We were on our way to Papa Pizza’s for dinner. Give me your address, and we’ll swing by and pick you up.”

“No need. I have a car and GPS. I’ll pick you up.”

“You drive?”

The horror in her voice made him laugh out loud. And oh, how good it felt. “Yeah, I just put a flashing neon sign on the roof that warns everyone to get out of my way.”

“You’re terrible.”

He could hear the smile in her voice. She’d always been a good sport. Whenever the opportunity to meet up with Joe arose, she’d taken it. And the woman could roll with whatever stupid humor a gang of testosterone-overloaded sailors could throw her way. It was one of the things Joe loved so much about her. Claire had been the love of Joe’s life. The ocean his mistress. Billy was glad to see she was still a good sport. Coming to Savannah had been the right decision.

One week later he’d moved into the guest room and, piece by piece, begun carving his way into Claire and the kids’ lives. For a military wife, the best part of a husband in EOD is they tended to be good at taking things apart and putting them back together again. Sometimes more efficiently than original condition. In short order he’d managed to make the dishwasher, the sprinkler control box, the master sink faucet, and the garage door opener better than new. He’d also become proficient at mowing the yard, cleaning the gutters, and grilling hamburgers to six-year-old JJ’s standard of perfection.

He’d also learned to function with little or no sleep, catching short naps, long enough to refresh but not long enough for the nightmares to slip in. A few times he’d thought sheer exhaustion would be enough to sleep without dreams, but the ghosts had always found him.

Then one day Billy had taken JJ to the park. Wiffle ball and bat in hand, the two had been practicing for JJ’s new T-ball team when they decided it was time to pause for ice cream, and JJ decided it was time for a man-to-man talk.

“Uncle Billy?”

“Yes.” Billy sat across from six-year-old Joe Junior at the wooden picnic table.

“Are you going to be my new daddy?”

The shock of the question almost knocked Billy out of his seat. Where had that come from?

“Why do you ask that?”

JJ took a long lick of the confection that had started dripping onto his fingers. “Mommy says Daddy isn’t coming home from war anymore.”

Ignoring the wave of guilt washing over him, Billy nodded. “Did your mommy tell you how much your daddy wanted to come home?”

“Mm-hm. She said sometimes bad things happen and good soldiers die, but Daddy was a hero, and someday I’ll see him again in heaven.”

“That’s right.” And sometimes good sailors die when good friends let them down.

“Mommy says now I’m the man of the family, but I think you do a better job.”

Even though Billy’s heart was heavy, the little boy’s simplistic view made him smile. “You think so?”

With another long lick, JJ nodded. “You do all the stuff daddy used to do when he came home. You know, fixing stuff. And Mommy was always happy when Daddy was home. But when Daddy went to heaven, Mommy cried a lot.”

The weight in Billy’s heart grew spines, pricking painfully.

“But Mommy doesn’t cry anymore. So are you going to be my new Daddy?”

At that moment everything seemed to suddenly make sense. Billy had a debt to pay. To Joe, to Claire, to JJ and little Susie.

Not wanting to say the wrong thing, Billy opted for evasion. “No one can replace your daddy, but I’ll be here as long as you and your mom want me. Okay?”

Smiling, JJ went after the rest of his ice cream with gusto, and Billy contemplated what to do next.

Billy remembered every day with such clarity. Especially his growing fears. Claire was a very attractive woman. Long blonde hair, big brown eyes with naturally long lashes, full lips, and a traditional hourglass figure that looked damn fine in a tank top and leggings. And yet, not once had the slightest spark of interest flared for him.

At first he’d thought it was because Claire had been his best friend’s wife, and a guy never poached on a buddy’s wife. Joe may have been gone for almost a year at the time, but Billy had still thought of her as Joe’s wife.

So he’d started thinking of her as just a woman. Noticing the scent of her cologne. The way her cheeks flushed after she’d been working out. The way she still filled out a tank top even after nursing two children. He’d let his mind wander to what it would be like to have his lips teasing and tasting the soft flesh. And nothing.

He wasn’t put off the way a guy might be if he had to kiss his cousin, or the ugly girl with a unibrow. And he’d certainly mastered not thinking of Claire as anyone’s wife. He’d simply had no reaction. No response. Not even a nervous twitch.

What he’d had was a permanently limp dick and the horrible realization that no matter his intentions to rescue Claire, he might never be husband material. And that had scared the shit out of him.