Cranberry Point (Cedar Cove #4)(94)

"I guess I'd better take you home," Nate said.

She reluctantly agreed. When she'd told him she was going to miss him, she hadn't been flirting; she'd been telling the simple truth. They drove back to her place in silence.

"I'll e-mail you, all right?"

"I don't have a computer," Rachel said. She'd never dated a guy in the navy before, so this was all new to her.

"Oh. That might make it difficult to stay in touch." He was clearly disappointed.

"How long do you think you'll be away?"

"No idea. The navy doesn't let me help with the decision-making."

She smiled at his sense of humor. They arrived at her house, and he pulled alongside the curb but kept the engine running.

They sat for a few minutes, neither speaking. "Rachel, I really enjoyed tonight. Every time I'm with you, I come away wanting to see you again and then I remember.

She turned and pressed her finger to his lips. "Don't say it."

Nate hugged her, and leaned his forehead against hers.

"I've never wanted to kiss a woman more than I want to kiss you right now. I can't, though, because I know what'll happen next."

Rachel knew it, too.

"But I don't think I can stop myself." Groaning, he closed his eyes, then gently, sweetly, touched his mouth to hers. His arms tightened around her and he sighed. Slowly he withdrew his lips from hers before their brief kiss could develop into anything more. "I'll walk you to your door," he said in a low, husky voice.

"You don't need to. I can see myself in."

"No," he insisted. "My mother would have my head if I didn't."

"Okay." He certainly wasn't making this easy.

He held her hand as they walked to her door, which he unlocked. When he'd finished, he handed her back the keys.

"I'll wait to hear from you," she said.

He nodded.

"Be safe, Nate."

He nodded again, his expression somber.

Rachel lightly touched the side of his face and, unable to resist, brought her lips to his. Like him, she didn't give the kiss a chance to become anything more than a quick farewell. She walked hurriedly inside.

Nate returned to his car and once she'd heard him pull away from the curb, Rachel opened the front door and stood looking down the street. The tears that burned her eyes shocked her a little. She hardly knew Nate Olsen. They'd gone out a grand total of three times, and at the end of every one of these dates, she'd had the impression she wouldn't see him again.

Sniffling, Rachel went into the bathroom and grabbed a tissue. If she was going to fall in love, the least she could do was be smart about it. Oh, no, not her. She had to complicate everything and fall for a sailor who was as good as engaged to another woman.

Sitting in the dark with her bare feet on the coffee table, she continued to bemoan her pathetic love life. The light over her door shone dimly, but it didn't really illuminate the room, despite the uncurtained windows. If she had any sense, she'd get up and turn on the lamp, but in her present frame of mind she preferred to sit in the dark.

Someone knocked on her door, and through her window she could see the shadowy shape of a man. Her breath caught in her throat as she ran to answer it. There, on the other side, stood Nate with his hands shoved in his back pockets.

At first all they did was stare at each other. Then, as if magnetically drawn to him, she stepped closer.

"I don't know what's happening to us," he whispered, "but I couldn't just leave you like this."

Rachel felt the same way.

"For the first time since I joined the navy, I don't want to go to sea."

Rachel didn't want him to leave, either.

"Come with me."

"Where?"

"I don't know. Let's sit on the beach and watch the stars."

She wanted to shriek and sob with joy. "Are you going to kiss me?"

He grinned boyishly. "Probably. Are you going to let me?"

She smiled, too. "I'm thinking about it."

He threw back his head and laughed. "Don't think too long."

Forty-Eight

The alarm buzzed and with a frustrated groan, Ian rolled over and cuddled Cecilia close. Slipping his hand over her waist, he lightly pressed his palm to the ever-so-slight bulge.

"Hmm," Cecilia purred softly as the radio played a Carly Simon tune. "Don't tell me it's time to get up."

He kissed the top of her head. "Afraid so."

She laid her hand over his. "Baby says good morning, too."

"Morning, baby," Ian whispered. The words nearly stalled in his throat. This was the last morning he'd be with Cecilia until after the baby was born. The George Washington was being deployed to the South Pacific for the next number of months. Six was what they'd been told, but it could be longer.

Cecilia rolled onto her back and looked up at him with her dark brown eyes. "Everything's going to be okay. Stop worrying."

Ian wasn't sure whether she was trying to convince him or herself.

"I'll be fine. I have friends this time." She rested her head against his bare shoulder.

"Does that mean you won't miss me?" Ian attempted to make a joke out of it, but failed.