Debbie Macomber Navy Series Box Set

Chapter 7

Freshly ground hamburger squished between Lindy’s long fingers as she meshed the meat and spices together to form patties for the barbecue grill. It was a lovely summer afternoon in a week that had begun with such marvelous promise.

The front door opened and Rush let himself in to the apartment.

“Hi,” Lindy called out, pleased to see him. He was fifteen minutes later than usual, and she’d hoped he hadn’t missed the ferry, which ran hourly. “How do barbecued hamburgers sound for dinner?”

“Fine.”

The word was clipped and impatient, as though what she served for their evening meal was the least of his concerns. Surprised at his gruff tone, Lindy turned around to find him standing in the doorway, his brow furrowed in a frown so tight it darkened his face.

“Did you have a bad day?”

“No.”

Something was obviously troubling him, but from the hard set of his mouth, she knew it wouldn’t do her any good to ask. In an effort to ignore his surly mood, she hurried to tell him her good news. “I got word from Steve. The Atlantis is due in as early as next week.”

Rush acknowledged the information with a curt nod.

“There’s cold pop in the fridge if that interests you.”

Apparently it didn’t because Rush left her and moved into the living room to turn on the television. Lindy finished her task, washed the hamburger goop from her fingers and joined him there, sitting on the arm of the sofa. She rested her elbow gently on Rush’s shoulder while Susan Hutchinson from Channel 7 relayed the latest news-making incident from the Persian Gulf.

When Rush pulled out of Bremerton, Lindy knew the Mitchell would be headed for those same trouble-infested waters. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest as she battled to control her anxiety. She hated to think of Rush in any danger and wished the Mitchell was headed for the South Pacific or somewhere equally pleasant.

Rush must have sensed her fears because he wrapped his arm around her and gently squeezed her waist. Her hand slid over his shoulder and she kissed the top of his head, loving him more each minute of every day.

“Lindy?”

“Hmm?”

The tension in his shoulders was so severe, she wondered how he could hold himself stiff for so long and still breathe.

“When I leave, I don’t want you clinging to me.”

She blinked, not sure she understood what he was saying. He seemed to be implying she would make a scene on the dock, weeping and gnashing her teeth because the man she loved was heading out to sea. That he would even imagine such a thing was an insult. The other implication was even more offensive.

“Are you suggesting that once you leave I should start dating other men?”

A week seemed to pass before he answered. “Yes. I think that would be a good idea.”

Lindy was slow to react to what he was suggesting. Her emotions went from surprise to mild irritation, then quickly broadened to out-and-out fury. She jerked her arm off his shoulder and leaped to her feet. “Well, thank you very much.”

“For what?”

If it hadn’t been so tragic, so painfully sad, Lindy might have laughed. She’d never felt as close to any man as she had to Rush these past two weeks. When she’d declared her love, she hadn’t been looking for white lace and promises. The words had been seared against her tender heart and she hadn’t been able to hold them inside a minute longer. She hadn’t asked anything of him, but she certainly hadn’t expected this intolerable pat on the hand, telling her she was too young, too immature or too stupid to know her own mind.

“For God’s sake, think about it, will you?”

“What?” she returned in like voice. “That I’m still a baby and certainly incapable of sound judgment? How about the fact that I’m looking to prove myself after Paul? What I feel for you is obviously some rebounding thing to soothe my injured ego. Right? Is that what you want me to think about, Rush? Unfortunately I can’t come up with a single reason I should, since you’ve already shoved those things in my face at every opportunity.”

His jaw was clenched so hard that his temple went white. “You’re fresh out of college….”

“And still tied to Mama’s apron strings. Is that what you mean to imply?”

“No.”

Oh, the gall of the man. Rather than continue arguing, Lindy returned to the kitchen. She was so furious that she clenched her hands into hard fists and exhaled several times to gain control of her simmering rage. She gritted her teeth as she went about fixing their meal. If Rush was so keen for her to start dating someone, then Lindy could see no reason why she should wait until the Mitchell left Puget Sound. A small sense of satisfaction lifted the corner of her mouth in a soft sneer as she thought about having men come to the apartment to pick her up and the pleasure she’d derive from introducing them to Rush. Oh, he’d really love that. She might even stay the night with a friend from work and let Rush stew, thinking she was with another man. Then she’d see exactly how eager he was to have her meet someone else.

Lindy braced her hands against the counter and hung her head in abject defeat. Behaving that way was childish and immature and impossibly stupid. Sure, she’d make Rush suffer, but she would end up being the one with a broken heart and myriad regrets.

Rush seemed to be telling her something more. Yes, he hungered for her physically. The circumstances in which they were living were rife with sexual tension. Each day it became more difficult to ignore the fire between them, and more than once they’d gotten close enough to the flames to singe their self-control.

The realization hit Lindy then, the impact as strong as if Rush had slugged his fist into her stomach. In some ways it would have been easier if he had. Rush didn’t love her. He pitied her after what had happened with Paul. All his tenderness, all his concern, everything he’d done had been born of pity. She’d mistaken his touch, his soul-wrenching kisses for passion when, from the beginning, all he’d really felt was compassion for her.

“Where’s my book?”

Rush’s question came at her as if from outer space. She turned to discover he stood not more than five feet away, looking irritated and impatient. She hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.

“My book?” he repeated. “The one that was in the living room last night. What did you do with it?”

Still numb, she raised her hand and pointed toward his bedroom. “I set it on your dresser.”

Since there was so little time in the morning, Lindy had gotten into the habit of straightening up the apartment before she went to bed. The night before Rush had been at a meeting, and she’d retired early, tired from a long day, before he’d gotten home.

“I’d appreciate it if you left my things alone,” Rush said in a low growl. “Move whatever you want of yours, but kindly keep your hands off mine.”

Answering him with anything more than a shake of her head would have been impossible. Lindy didn’t know what had gone wrong, but in the space of fifteen minutes her world had been badly shaken. First Rush had told her he wanted her to start seeing other men and then he’d jumped all over her for putting his book away. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

The insight came to her then—it seemed to be the night for them—Rush wanted her out of the apartment. When she’d gotten the job with Boeing, it had been understood she’d need to wait for a couple of paychecks before she could afford to rent her own place. They hadn’t actually discussed it, and at the time Lindy had let the subject drop because she’d wanted to spend as much time as she could with Rush. He hadn’t asked her about it, and she’d assumed that he wanted her with him just as much. Once more, she’d been wrong.

Quickly calculating her limited funds, she realized that with what remained of her savings and her first check, which was due on Friday, she could possibly afford a studio apartment. If she asked around at the office, there might even be someone there who was looking for a roommate.

The muscles in her throat constricted as she fought down the regret. She’d been such a fool.

* * *

Rush noted that Lindy left the apartment as soon as she’d finished preparing their dinner, not bothering to eat anything herself. For that matter he didn’t have much of an appetite either, but he sat down at the table, propped his book open in front of him and pretended an interest in both the book and the dinner.

It had been on the tip of his tongue to ask Lindy where she was going, but he’d swallowed the question, realizing how stupid it would sound after the way he’d laid into her earlier. He hadn’t meant to start a fight, hadn’t even been looking for one. It had just happened, and he was as shocked by his insensitive demands as Lindy had been. He hadn’t meant a thing he’d said. The hurt in her expressive dark eyes returned to haunt him now. When he’d asked her about the book, she’d stood looking at him in confusion, the violet smudges that appeared beneath her eyes a silent testimony to the trauma his words had inflicted.

As for the suggestion she see other men, that was downright idiotic. Talk about inflicting self-torture! He wanted to see Lindy with another man about as much as he desired a bladder infection.

The problem, Rush knew, was that he loved Lindy Kyle. She was stubborn, headstrong, proud…warm and vibrant. She might as well have branded his heart, because he belonged to her.

Rush pushed his plate aside and wearily wiped a palm across his eyes. Hell, this was the last thing he’d planned would happen. He was thirty-two years old, for God’s sake. Mature enough to recognize when he was headed for trouble. He’d known what was going to happen with Lindy from the first night he’d seen her standing, all soft and feminine, in the hallway outside Steve’s bedroom. He’d known the morning she’d blasted the rock music loud enough to hurl him out of bed because she was hurt and angry. He’d known when she’d held his head between her hands and stared into his soul and whispered so sweetly that she loved him.

Rush stood and walked out onto the lanai, hands buried in his pants pockets. The dark green waters of Puget Sound were visible and Rush snickered softly. So much for not seeking a bridge to tie him to the mainland. He was trapped on shore now and he dreaded leaving. He used to think of the navy as the only wife he’d ever need. But recently, when he crawled into bed at night, it was Lindy he longed to wrap his arms around. Lindy he longed to love. He wanted her to be a permanent part of his life. She was laughter and sunshine. She’d made him feel again, laugh again, love again. He couldn’t bear to think of what the future would be like without her. Two weeks. He’d only been with Lindy for two weeks. Before that she’d been a name, the sister of a good friend. He couldn’t ask her to share his life based on a two-week acquaintance. It was crazy. No, he’d be patient with her, force himself to wait. The six-month separation would do them both good. Time would test the strength of their love. Time would reveal the truth.

* * *

It was only a little after eight-thirty when Lindy returned to the apartment. She would have preferred to stay away much longer, but after reading through the evening newspaper for apartment rentals and wasting five dollars on a horrible movie she didn’t know where else to go or what else to do. Eventually she’d need to return anyway, and knowing Rush, he’d probably left the apartment, as well.

He wasn’t in the living room or kitchen, and she didn’t bother to check any of the other rooms, not wanting a recurrence of their earlier argument. It was obvious he wasn’t in the mood for company.

Sitting at the table, Lindy spread out the classified section and read the apartment-for-rent advertisements once more.

Quite by accident she found a section she hadn’t thought to look at before: roommates wanted. She read a couple of those and decided to phone the one that looked the most promising.

“Hello,” she said brightly when the woman answered. “I’m calling about your ad in the paper.”

Rush walked into the kitchen, hesitated when he saw her and opened the refrigerator to take out a cold can of pop. Lindy strove to ignore him as much as possible. Her fingers gripped the pen unnecessarily hard as she doodled while the woman on the other end of the line explained a few of the details regarding her ad.

“It says here that you’re looking for a nonsmoker. I…I don’t smoke and I’ve recently moved into the area and need a place to live. I…have a job.”

“Lindy.”

Rush called her name, but she pretended she hadn’t heard him. Besides she was already involved in one conversation and if he chose to be rude that was his problem.

Undeterred, Rush waved his hand in front of her face. “Get off the phone.”

“Excuse me a minute please.” Lindy spoke to the woman, enunciating each word as she held her temper by a fragile thread. She pressed the receiver to her shoulder blade and glared up at Rush. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” she hissed between clenched teeth.

“There’s no need for you to find an apartment,” he told her, returning her heated stare.

“I beg your pardon, Rush Callaghan, but this is my life, and if I choose to leave this apartment, I’ll do so with or without your permission.”

Rush cursed beneath his breath and walked away from her.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” Lindy said sweetly into the telephone receiver. “Perhaps it would be best if we met?”

“Damn it, Lindy,” Rush shouted, twisting around to face her once more. “Will you kindly get off the phone so we can talk?”

He might as well have been speaking to a stone wall for all the attention Lindy paid him. “Yes, Tuesday afternoon would be fine.”

Rush’s returning glare was hot enough to peel thirty-year-old wallpaper off a wall, but still Lindy ignored him.

“You won’t be meeting whoever that is,” he told her sternly, looming over her. “You’re only wasting time.”

“Kindly excuse me again, would you?” Lindy asked softly, deliberately calm. She turned to Rush then and half rose from her chair. “Would you shut up? I can’t hear a word she’s saying.”

“Good.”

He was making Lindy more furious by the minute, and she tried to tell him as much and still keep control of her temper. “I’m sorry to keep interrupting our conversation,” she said to the woman on the phone.

Rush walked around the table a couple of times, looking like a man trapped in a small space—or a shark circling its kill. Finally he stopped, standing directly across from her. He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck as though to relieve an ache there, then paused and looked at her. “Lindy, I’m leaving.”

The words were nearly shouted. She hesitated and prayed for patience, and when that didn’t work, she counted to ten. Flippantly she raised her hand and waved goodbye. Still, he didn’t move.

“I’m twenty-two,” Lindy answered the woman’s question. “No…no you needn’t worry about that sort of thing. There isn’t anyone important in my life at the moment.” She swallowed tightly at the lie.

She exchanged a look with Rush and feared he was going to explode. “I thought you were leaving,” she whispered heatedly, cupping her hand over the mouthpiece. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“Not the apartment,” he raged, staring at her as though she were completely dense. “The Mitchell is sailing out.”

“I know…. In two weeks.”

“The catapults are being tested tomorrow and possibly Wednesday. If everything works out we’ll be gone by the beginning of next week.”

“The beginning of next week,” she echoed, hanging up the phone. She kept her hand on the receiver feeling numb with shock, numb with fear. “But you said it would be at least a month.”

“As I recall, I told you it could be as long as a month. As it happens, it’s only two, possibly three weeks.”

“Oh, Rush.” She turned to him, her eyes wide with a hundred emotions she didn’t know how to define. She’d accepted long ago that their time together was limited. But she’d counted on every minute of these remaining weeks. Needed them. Needed Rush.

“It shouldn’t come as any great surprise,” he told her, and pulled out a chair to sit across from her.

“It isn’t…. It’s just that…I don’t know.” Her stomach twisted into hard knots and for a painful moment she couldn’t breathe. She was stunned, and she felt Rush’s eyes slowly search her face. With everything in her, she met his gaze, determined to appear cool and composed. Her heart might be quivering with apprehension, but she’d die smiling before she’d allow him to know it. He’d already told her once that he didn’t want her clinging to him when he left. And she wouldn’t. She’d stand on the dock with a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye, and wave until her arm dropped off, but she’d never let him know it was killing her.

“About tonight,” he started again. “I didn’t mean any of what I said.”

He dropped his gaze, but not before Lindy saw a strange mixture of regret, desire and remorse. In the two weeks they’d been together, Lindy had thought she’d witnessed all Rush’s moods. She’d seen him at his cynical best, when he’d been purposely aloof and brash. She’d experienced his comfort, his tenderness as he held her in his arms while she sobbed against his chest. And she’d heard the music of his laughter, stood transfixed by his sometimes warm-heated, playful moods. Oh Lord, she was going to miss him. Miss everything about him.

“Lindy, I’m sorry for what I said.”

His hand reached for hers, rubbing warmth back into her chilled fingers. She shook her head, hoping that would suffice as acceptance of his apology.

They were silent for a moment, caught in the surging tide of their individual thoughts.

“I don’t have any right to ask you to wait six months for me.”

“I’ll wait,” she offered quietly. Lindy had no other choice.

“If you meet someone else…”

“Is that what you want?”

“No.” Anger flared briefly in his eyes. Then his expression changed to that cool, watchful look he wore so often. “No,” he repeated softly.

“That isn’t what you said earlier.” She tried to laugh, but the sound of her pain was carried in the mirth.

“I didn’t mean it. Not a word.”

“You don’t believe that I love you, do you?”

He waited a long time before he answered. “I don’t know. I think it’s too soon after Paul for you to know what you’re feeling.”

Lindy closed her eyes in an effort to control the urge to argue with him. She did love him, and never more than now. She’d just learned he’d be sailing out of her life for half a year, and her only thought was how she would manage without him.

She watched as a small pulse started in his temple. “I don’t want to leave you, Lindy.”

Her gaze shot to his, and her eyes widened with astonishment. Rush loved the sea. The navy was more than his career. It was his life, the very reason he got out of bed every morning. She’d listened for hours while he described for her the warm sensations that went through him when he was on the open seas. She’d felt his pride and exhilaration when he spoke of standing alone against the force of a fierce storm. He loved everything about navy life. It was his dream, just as the oceans of the world were his destiny.

And he didn’t want to leave her. What he felt for her was stronger than the lure of the sea.

Tears shimmered in her eyes and she bit hard on her lower lip to hold them at bay. Rush wouldn’t tell her he loved her—not with words. It would have been more than she could expect. But by admitting that he didn’t want to leave her, he said everything.

When Lindy had composed herself enough to look up at Rush again, she felt the tension in every line of his lovingly familiar face.

“I want you to stay at the apartment,” he said, and his hand continued to rub hers, holding her fingers in a grip that was almost painfully tight. “Steve will be back soon, but he’ll only be here a few weeks, if that long.

Lindy nodded.

“Then the place will be empty for months.”

Again she acknowledged his words with an abrupt movement of her head.

“It would be better if there was someone living here. As it is now, an empty apartment is an invitation to burglars. You’d actually be doing Steve and me a favor if you agree to say.”

“I’ll…I’ll want to start contributing toward the rent.”

“Fine. Whatever you want. When Steve arrives the two of you can work it out.”

“What about when Steve is here?” Lindy asked. “Where will I sleep?”

“He can have my room.”

“But what about when you’re both here?”

Rush frowned, and then a strange, almost humorous light entered his eyes and a soft smile crowded his face. “Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Anything else?” he asked.

She dropped her gaze to his hand, which was holding hers. “I love you, Rush, and I’m going to miss you like hell.”

He raised her hand to his lips, closed his eyes and kissed it gently.

* * *

The coffee was ready by the time Rush met Lindy in the kitchen the following morning. Although she’d been physically and mentally exhausted, she’d hardly slept, managing three, maybe four hours of rest at the most. Now her eyes burned and she felt on the verge of tears.

Rush joined her at the table. He wordlessly reached for the morning newspaper and buried his face in it, not speaking to her—apparently pretending she wasn’t there. Lindy stood it as long as she could.

“Would you like some breakfast?” she asked.

He shook his head. The stupid newspaper still presented a thin barrier between them.

Whereas Lindy had felt loved and reassured after their talk the night before, this morning she felt lonely and bereft. Rush hadn’t sailed away yet, but he might as well have for all the companionship he offered.

“I think I’ll get dressed now,” she whispered, hoping that would gain his attention.

“Fine.”

“Stop it, Rush.”

That worked, and he lowered the paper, peering at her over the top of the page, his face clean of expression. “Stop what?”

“That!” She pointed an accusing finger at the newspaper. “I hate it when you do this.”

“What hideous crime am I guilty of now?”

“You haven’t left yet…. I’d think you’d want to spend every minute you could with me…. Instead you’re hiding behind the Post-Intelligencer so you won’t have to look at me.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not. It’s almost as if you can hardly wait to get away from me.”

With deliberately slow movements he folded the newspaper and set it aside. “Is it because I didn’t want any breakfast? Is that what’s upset you so much? You know I seldom eat this early.”

“No…of course that’s not it.”

“What is it then?”

“I…don’t know.” Lindy felt like such a fool. She didn’t know why she was acting like this, but she couldn’t stand it when Rush treated her this way. She could deal with his anger far more easily than this intolerable patience.

“What exactly do you want from me, Lindy?”

“I want some emotion,” she cried.

“What?” he barked, clearly not understanding her.

“Not tears. I want you to…oh, never mind. Go back to reading your precious paper with that same stoic expression you always wear in the morning. I humbly apologize for having interrupted your reading time.”

Lindy couldn’t get to her bedroom fast enough. She took small pleasure in slamming her door. Her intention had been to dress as quickly as she could and leave the apartment. Instead she found herself sitting on the edge of her bed, trembling and teary eyed, confused and suddenly feeling, utterly, desperately alone.

When her bedroom door flew open, Lindy gasped. Rush’s gaze pinned her to the bed as he silently stalked across the room.

“Damn it, Lindy.” The words were ground out through his teeth before he sank onto the bed beside her. His arms tightened around her trembling body, pressing her down against the mattress. His hands found and cupped her breasts as he buried his face in her hair, spreading a wildfire of kisses along her cheeks and face, but avoiding her lips.

All Rush had to do was touch her and the desire curled in her belly like an anchor rope ready to plunge her into dark, inviting depths of passion.

His fingers tightened on her shoulders as he raised his head and stared down at her. He looked as though he were trying to stop himself but couldn’t. Then his mouth closed hungrily over hers, rubbing back and forth, his tongue probing hers.

Lindy’s arms found his back and she arched her spine, grinding her hips against him, needing him so desperately she could barely breathe. The longer Rush kissed her, the deeper she sank into the turbulent waters of desire. She felt like she was drowning, oblivious to everything except the primitive need to be loved by Rush.

“Oh, Lindy….” The words came out softly as he lifted his head from hers. He paused and dragged in a heavy breath, held it a moment then expelled it. “Well,” he whispered, “is that enough emotion for you?”