Gone Read Free Page A

is—”
    “I can’t,” he interrupted and it cost him to say it. “Not for a couple more days. And you can’t say anything to anyone either. I shouldn’t be here. I was supposed to wait, but I just…couldn’t. I’m here against orders, believe me.”
    “I’m glad you didn’t wait.”
    He was glad too. The bed was soft, the sheets clean, her nude body close… Jack slipped an arm around her waist to draw her up against him, rested his cheek on the fan of her fragrant hair, and relaxed for the first time in over a year, his eyes drifting shut.
    His last coherent thought was that heaven was sure better than hell.
     
     
    Stepping out of the shower, Nicole reached for a towel, slowly drying off, seeing the slight redness on her breasts and remembering the erotic feel of Jack’s beard on her skin as he made love to her.
    He’d come home.
    It was still difficult to process, to accept that he’d stepped back into her life, to remember all those lonely, miserable evenings when she thought he was gone forever. But he was there in her bed, so sound asleep he hadn’t moved so much as a muscle when she woke and eased out from beneath his encircling arm. In the morning light, his face and body in repose, she had stood there and just looked at him, absorbing the changes. His face, all-too handsome, was more angular, his ebony hair unruly against the white sheets, his torso tanned a dark bronze, the vivid scars on his leg and chest indicative of the injuries were healed but fairly recent.
    Her exact state of mind was difficult to define. Happy…God yes, ecstatic, overjoyed, but it felt surreal, and she had no illusions. This wasn’t going to be easy. She looked into the bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection, wondering who that woman was, so different from the one who had looked back at her just yesterday morning.
    At least it was Saturday, which meant she didn’t have to go to work. She wrapped the towel around her hair, brushed her teeth and went back into the bedroom for some clean clothes. Picking out a pair of white linen shorts and a light blue sleeveless blouse because the forecast said it was going to be in the mid eighties, she dressed in the bathroom, dried her hair and put on a minimum of make-up—kiss of light foundation, gloss on her lips and a touch of mascara.
    She went into the kitchen and made a cup of coffee, leaning a hip on the counter and idly stirring in a dash of milk and a spoonful of sugar, her distracted thoughts whirling and gaining momentum.
    He wasn’t going to tell her where he’d been. She already knew that; she’d known it when they’d first become involved. Falling madly in love with a man who loosely defined his occupation as military was a leap of faith, she’d discovered. It didn’t take more than a few dates before she realized he was evasive about just exactly what he did for the government.
    Yet she’d fallen anyway.
    “Damn you, Jack,” she muttered out loud, taking her coffee to the sliding doors that opened to the back deck. It was already hot, the sun warming the boards under her bare feet, the neighborhood quiet with green lawns and mature trees and neat, straight sidewalks. She sat in a chair by the wrought-iron table her parents had given her as a housewarming gift and set down her cup of coffee. “Damn your job,” she added for good measure.
    Her life was up-ended.
    In a good/bad way.
    As if to illustrate it, her phone beeped, indicating a text. She pulled it from the pocket of her shorts and read the message. Good morning, beautiful .
    She swiftly pushed a few buttons. Good morning .
    Doing?
    Coffee.
    Hot here.
    Hot here too.
    What a coincidence.
    “I’d love to join you but I shouldn’t. Care to come back inside?”
    Nicole jumped a mile and set down her phone, seeing Jack lounging with one hand braced against the doorjamb but behind the screen where he couldn’t be seen, his hair wet and gorgeously curly from the shower, still shirtless but wearing a