Going to the freezer for the fiftieth time, she looked for something sweet to eat. Nothing there. Only frozen butter, ice cubes, and a box of baking soda. Nothing good was ever located there when she needed it most.
Closing the door, she leaned against the refrigerator. The pile of wrapping paper and presents mocked her. It was her sister's turn to come here for the holidays. They would go get a tree on Christmas Eve and decorate it.
Tears welled, spilling over. Her eyes slammed shut and she put her face on the metal. The cool surface eased the puffiness she could feel around her eyes. Pain eased back slowly.
An image popped in front of her eyes. That man.
Who was that guy? Did he know her sister? He wouldn't have just said something because he recognized the resemblance between Brenda and her, would he? He couldn't be that crude, could he?
Pushing back from the fridge, she didn't think so. The guy was in uniform. Unlikely he was a reporter. She was pretty sure she'd deck one of them if they'd startled her like that.
The guy… there was something. She shook her head. Maybe it was just the clothes. She always felt better, more comfortable, around members of the military. It was one of the reasons she lived in San Diego. Dad had been stationed here on Coronado for a while. He was a West Coast man through and through, and Mom was an East Coast preppy. They were no Ozzie and Harriet. Rather, observers would see their passion and designate them a Jolie & Pitt from Mr. & Mrs. Smith or the Robinson parents from Lost in Space.
Her whole life she'd wanted that kind of love and connection. Brenda wouldn't have that now. A knot formed in Kathryn Marie's throat. Tears that couldn't be restrained fell.
For a second time, she asked herself, should I have stayed instead of slipping out the back? That guy looked like he needed to speak with her. Did he know something?
Leaving the grocery before she had confronted the military man didn't give her any answers. That was one of the problems with splitting before you knew what the issue was. On the other hand, she was such a wreck she wasn't sure what she could and couldn't handle. Her brain felt hypersensitive. Like it could only deal with a few thoughts, and then it shut down completely and there was absolutely no reviving it and putting it back on track.
Sunburn gave her skin a similar reaction. Made it impossible to wear clothes. It was the only thing she could liken it to.
Did other people have these problems? Or, was she thinking randomly?
Was there a right way to grieve?
The tears stopped for now.
She shrugged. Second-guessing herself wasn't helpful. If she stayed on these thoughts, they'd continue to loop in her mind. Best thing she could do was let it all go. If she were meant to have answers, they would come. With the military guy, if they were meant to meet again, it would happen. She had to believe that.
Slipping out of her jeans and blouse, she pulled on her dad's old boxer shorts and her mom's sorority T-shirt. Navy SEAL on the bottom and a Tri-Delta on top, it was an interesting combination, no doubt. Of course, that's what Dad had been, Team ONE, and Mom was the looker and the sorority girl staying at the Hotel del Coronado on spring break. A chance meeting at McP's, and they'd fallen madly in love and had married by the end of the week.
Swallowing another rising knot in her throat, she avoided looking at the mass of pictures on the far side of the desk. Her parents had passed when their forty-foot boat had been caught in a storm. What a heart crushing blow that had been to her and her sister. Now, Brenda was gone. She was alone.
Knees buckled as she crumpled to the floor. Emotion grew like a tidal wave crashing over her, and tears flooded down. Sounds, guttural and harsh, poured from her mouth.
Pain. It was too much!
Death wasn't fair.
Oblivion dragged her into a blessed darkness.
Some time later, arms lifted her, picking her off the floor. She was disoriented, but warm. A feeling of safety swept through her system and she snuggled deeper against someone.
Daddy?
Whatever was happening, she refused to wake. Nothing was going to disrupt her first feelings of calm in a long, long time.
Eyes squeezed tighter, she relaxed more, drifting further into the dark. Sleep was a gift-oblivion was even better.
Devin sat on the lounge chair next to the bed watching her. A poinsettia was at his feet. He'd remembered his mom had liked them, so he'd bought one at the grocery store.
In person, she was prettier than the picture on her sister's credenza. But even then he'd felt a tangible pull toward her. He hadn't understood it then, any more than he did now. What were the odds that he'd meet her in person? If his mom were standing here, she'd say destiny had a hand in it. There were no accidents, only “mean to” moments. He missed his mom and dad.
Joining EOD had happened that way-mechanical skills combined with chance. He scratched his chin, thinking about those treasured early days with his dad. The times they had spent tinkering on all sorts of things. When his dad retired from the SEAL teams, Devin had been really young. Running every day, working out together, learning a multitude of skills from his dad had been a natural fit for them both. Until, his dad and mom died in a car crash.
Coupled with that turning point in his life-the day when he had disarmed a bomb at a grocery store-the Navy had approached him within twenty-four hours. They asked him to join up in exchange for a college degree, and he'd agreed. Joining the Navy made him feel close to his dad. He'd even achieved his master's degree in mechanical engineering, breezing through the classes and drinking in the theoretical information like it was soda. The Navy had been good to him. Different departments continued to seek him, but EOD remained his favorite spot.
If it weren't for the whole diplomacy issue, he'd still be in the field dismantling, defusing, and generally disarming stuff as well as sorting through the latest intelligence information, going on assignments, etc. Of course, the duty he pulled now was on the sweet side. Teaching-he really did enjoy it.
Checking his watch, his dad's SEAL Team Rolex, he had to leave soon. A buddy of his had taken the first class. He'd have to be there, though, in another couple of hours for some hands-on work.
In the meantime, a beautiful woman with eyes that glittered like pale emeralds lay in front of him. What was he supposed to do with her? His mind had a million ideas and his body was all too ready to hope those thoughts might come true. He closed his eyes and pondered them.
Smack!
He rolled flat to the floor without even opening his eyes. When they finally sprang open his gun was drawn and he was aiming the barrel at Kathryn Marie Pente. So much for falling asleep.
She glared at him. What was he supposed to do! He was required to carry a sidearm.
Her lips drew into a thick pursed pucker.
Man, she was beautiful! Staring daggers at him like Queen Boudica of the Britons, her anger was breathtaking. He'd always had a soft spot for strong, independent women, especially one's who made a difference in their community. Of course, the angel before him had golden hair and a melodic voice, unlike the queen who was known for her piercing war cry and her flaming red hair, as well as leading a tribal uprising to protect her people against forces of the Roman Empire. He'd loved that story from high school. Kathryn Marie made her own stand to save the world, as evidenced by those pictures in her sister's office. She was a powerhouse, a wee one he wanted to know better.
A smile spread his lips wide. He'd bet serious bucks this woman didn't know how pretty she was.
The green-eyed vision shook off the mantel of her anger and squared her shoulders. His smile must have done the trick, for her lips finally lost their tension. On her face was an expression of pure resilience and courage. “The gun."