Gone Page 2

  “Two rounds from an automatic weapon almost in the exact same spot,” he said matter-of-factly. “Didn’t see the bastard until it was too late. I broke my leg too, jumping off the wall where he nailed me. Not my finest hour, trust me.”

  “Jack.”

  He shrugged. It had happened. Over and done with. Not the most pleasant experience of his life, but part of the game.

  The leg had actually been the worst of it. Compound fracture with a piece of bone sticking out…what a bloody mess. They’d stuck a pin in it and four months later, it still ached like hell at times. He wasn’t going to be a contender for the Olympic track team in this lifetime, but at least the limp was not as pronounced as it used to be. Maybe someday it would be gone altogether, but for now, he’d settle for being able to walk and breathe. Both had been pretty dicey at one time.

  “You nearly were killed.” Her voice shook.

  She didn’t know the half of it, and he wasn’t ever going to tell her either. There was no need to spread the nightmare around, and it was all pretty much classified anyway, especially why he’d been on that wall in the first place.

  “Hey.” He caught her wrist and brought her hand up to his mouth, kissing her palm. “I wasn’t. That’s all that matters. I’m here in your bed, we just made love and it was every bit of what I’ve been fantasizing about for the past thirteen months, and I get to sleep with you in my arms. Life is good, babe.”

  “Your parents. Jack, you need to call them right now, they won’t mind what time it 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 pair of jeans that hugged his long legs. He still hadn’t shaved but the dark stubble suited his model-boy look.

  Only, of course, if you took away the bullet-hole scars that were like twin dark red spots on his upper chest.

  “I didn’t want to wake you,” she said with an embarrassing wobble in her voice. “You were sleeping like the…”

  “Dead,” he supplied ironically. “Probably. I think I’d been awake for over forty hours when I stepped off the plane last night.” He pointed at her coffee. “Give me a cup of that and I’ll be your love slave for life. Of course, that was part of the plan anyway.”

  His crooked smile, slightly devilish and all male, would bring any woman to her knees. “Sounds like quite a bargain. A cup of coffee for sexual servitude?” Nicole kept her tone light and rose. He slid back the screen, but when she went to walk past, he put an arm around her waist while deftly removing the cup of coffee from her hand. His mouth nuzzled her neck. “Good morning, beautiful.”

  Oh God.

  His hair was like damp ebony silk under her fingers. She said softly, “Don’t you want coffee?”

  “Hmm.” He kissed the hollow of her throat. “Among other things.”

  Her laugh was breathless, because, quite frankly, he had that effect on her at just about any time. “Even after last night?”

  “Especially after last night.” He let go of her and handed back her cup. “But, yeah, I’d love a decent cup of coffee first.”

  “French roast or Italian?”

  “If it isn’t made from a muddy puddle in a road in the middle of no-man’s land, it doesn’t matter.” He grinned and leaned back against the sink, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. “You choose.”

  “Still drink it black?” She fished a cup out of the cupboard, self-conscious over how he was looking at her, his gaze both predatory and maybe holding a hint of curiosity.

  Of course. Jack’s instincts were spot-on, and whatever he did do for the armed forces of the United States, that was probably why he was good at it.

  He said softly, “Yes, still black. I haven’t changed, Nikki. I know I’ve been gone for over a year, but it’s just me. I know the circumstances aren’t exactly run of the mill, but we can adjust and go back to the way it was.”

  There he was wrong. It wasn’t ever going to be the same, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. She carefully placed the mug in the coffeemaker, put in the pre-measured cup and pressed a button, taking a moment to collect her thoughts.

  He sensed it too, just as she guessed h
e would, and let her take the time, wordlessly accepting the cup when she handed it to him.

  “Maybe you can’t tell me much, but I guess I don’t have the same restrictions. I’ve got something to tell you.”

  Jack lifted the cup to his mouth, not taking his eyes from hers. “Okay. Tell me.”

  Not okay. I don’t know how to do this.

  Her hands were trembling and she clenched them into fists, glad she’d set aside her own cup so he couldn’t see she how shaken she was. Helplessly, she said, “Last night it seemed so simple. I love you, but it isn’t quite so simple in the light of day.”

  “How so?” His voice held a guarded edge. “Shit, from your expression I’m not going to like what you’re about to say, am I?”

  Even as she opened her mouth to say God only knew what, she heard the click of the front door, and the soft swoosh as someone pushed it open. A male voice said, “Nikki?”

  Chapter Three

  Eric Janssen turned and closed the door, inhaling the fragrance of fresh coffee with appreciation, the familiar sight of Nicole’s purse on the table in the foyer like a special homecoming just by itself. Ten days in Phoenix was about nine too many.

  Catching the early morning flight had meant a four o’clock wake-up call, but it was worth it to have the entire day instead of spending half of it in airports, and since the meetings had wrapped up early, he had the option to change his departure on the company’s dime anyway.

  “Nikki?” he said again tentatively, wondering if she wasn’t out back where she usually sat in the morning. She’d said she was drinking coffee in her text.

  Dropping his bag, he walked toward the kitchen, humming under his breath, his mood light now that he was back. When she came to the doorway of the kitchen, he was reminded why exactly he had caught that damned early flight. “Hey, babe.”

  “Eric…I…”

  “Sorry if I startled you.” Dropping his bag, he put his hands on her slender shoulders and leaned down for a satisfying kiss. Only the minute his mouth touched hers she stiffened. Puzzled, he lifted his head.

  And then he froze, his mind going blank, the gleaming countertops and stainless appliances fading into a gray haze, nothing registering in his vision except the man standing by the table, his hand holding the telltale coffee cup, his face as familiar as his own…

  Maybe Nicole made an inarticulate sound, but it was part of the unreal moment, lost and unacknowledged.

  “Jack?” he said incredulously, joy coloring his uneven voice. “Jesus…Jack?”

  In two strides he was close enough to grab his best friend in a hug that sent coffee splashing to the floor and on his shirt, but he really didn’t give a damn. Jack plunked the cup down and hugged him back, slapping him on the shoulder. “Yeah, Jack, in the flesh. I’m doing a crappy-ass job of keeping my presence in town a secret. Eric, good to see you.”

  Jack. Alive.

  “Are you kidding? We thought—we were told—” He couldn’t say it.

  “I know what you thought. I know what you were told.”

  The somber tone of Jack’s voice spoke volumes, and more than that, Eric realized several pertinent facts as he drew back and loosened his hold. The first was that Nicole was only a few feet away, looking strained and maybe even a little pale under her golden summer tan, her eyes enormous. She was beautiful as ever in simple shorts and a pale blouse, her smooth hair loose around her shoulders, but there was not exactly exuberant welcome in her subdued expression, and she hadn’t said a word.

  The second was that Jack was only half dressed, bare-chested and barefoot in her tidy kitchen, companionably drinking coffee.

  Pretty early in the morning.

  Where the hell had he spent the night?

  And did Eric even have the right to ask that question?

  Probably not, he decided in the resulting silence, the awkwardness spreading like ripples when a stone was tossed into a very still pond, the three of them standing there on a bright sunny morning, the icemaker deciding at that moment to refill with a resounding clunk.

  It was one of those definitive moments when all control was lost of the predictable course, when life careened onto the fork in the road you didn’t even know was there. No signs, no mileage available, destination unknown.

  “You must be deep special ops,” he said into the quiet, “for them to lie to your family.”

  Jack didn’t respond at once, but then lifted a dark brow. “I can’t really respond to that, but yes, my team flies under the radar, so to speak.”

  Not far enough under. Eric was an accountant executive, not a doctor, but he could still recognize a healed bullet wound when he saw one. “I’m damned glad you’re alive.”

  “Me too.” Jack grinned, but there was a level of wariness in his gray eyes.

  Who could blame him? He’d just let himself into Jack’s girlfriend’s house like he would be welcome and even expected. Usually, he was. Usually that kiss would have led to something even more satisfying.

  Hell.

  His intention to surprise Nicole by coming back early had definitely backfired in an ironic way.

  And Jack was quick as ever. He said in a deceptively mild tone, “Mind telling me why you have a key? I’m trying to come up with a reason besides the obvious one and kind of having a hard time finding it.”

  They’d been best friends since grade school. Played football together, not to mention baseball and soccer, climbed trees, played hooky, took girls on double dates, had driver’s education at the same time, in essence grew up like brothers, and they could weather this, couldn’t they?

  For her, surely they could.

  “Want to sit down and talk about this?” he suggested reasonably, acutely aware of Nicole’s silence.

  “I don’t know.” Jack’s jaw was set. “Tell me, do I?”

  For the first time Nicole spoke. “We have to,” she said in a wavering voice just above a whisper. “I’m not sure I want to either, but we have to.”

  Jack sat down, aware his sense of affront was unreasonable, that his leg ached after the long journey, and that he still hadn’t caught up on about eight months of sleep deprivation.

  Bottom line, he reminded himself, it was great to see Eric.

  His order of business had been Nicole, his parents and then his best friend when it came to telling people he was still alive and kicking. Whatever his orders, both Nikki and Eric knew now he was fine and they were about as trustworthy as any two people he knew and certainly important in his life.

  Eric and Nicole had met, actually, when Jack had started dating Nicole, but at the moment he had the sense that the two people he introduced a few years ago now knew each other pretty well.

  Maybe even really well.

  “So,” Eric said evenly, propping his hand on the maple kitchen tabletop, “let me start, if you don’t mind.”

  “Go ahead,” Jack agreed grimly.

  Eric glanced over at Nicole. “I will, unless you want to go first.”

  Lush lashes lowered over her eyes briefly, but she was hardly a coward—it was one of the things Jack loved about her.

  Yes, he loved her.

  Fuck.

  She said, “I don’t want to, but I think I should.” She looked at him, her soft mouth taut but her gaze level. “I loved you. I love you now. You know that.”

  “But you thought I was dead.”

  “Yes.”

  Eric interjected roughly, “We both did. And for the record, it was like losing a brother when I got the news.”

  Last night had been perfect but this part was not quite the homecoming Jack envisioned. Then again, if he used logic, there was a reason he’d checked the refrigerator to see if she had maybe moved on. A reason he’d been stealthy and ready for trouble in case he startled someone besides her with his invasion of her home. Over a year was a long time, and he had no right to ask her to wait for a man she thought was never coming back.

  Besides, hell, Eric was a good guy. A great gu
y. And women fell all over him too, not just because he had the classic golden-boy good looks and a tall, athletic build to go along with that pretty face, but because he was also smart as hell. Last Jack knew, he had been promoted to some sort of vice-president position in the banking company he worked for, which had been no surprise even though he was only twenty-nine.

  She couldn’t make a better choice. It was just that this made for a real problematic situation.

  If Jack didn’t love her…

  But he did.

  “I can’t defend that,” he said coolly. “Not my choice, but it’s what happened.”

  “It wasn’t easy on this end,” Eric said, his hazel eyes steady.

  Jack spread his hands on the table, palms down, his fingers surprisingly steady. Or maybe it wasn’t surprising. All he’d done lately was deal with situations that might twist his life into knots. “I got that. It wasn’t too great for me either when I was told they’d made the decision to play it that way. I can’t explain to you why they did it. You know about all you are going to know.”

  Nicole lifted a hand to brush back her hair in a familiar gesture that tightened his heart, especially when he saw her fingers tremble. “Your parents invited me for Thanksgiving because my parents were going to be in Hawaii for two weeks for their anniversary. Eric was there too. We talked, mostly about you.”

  He’d have to thank his parents for that one. “I take it I didn’t remain the only topic of conversation.”

  “You fell in love with her, Templeton,” Eric pointed out with irritating accuracy and equal sarcasm, leaning back in his chair and running his hand through his dark blond hair. “Give me credit for being at least as smart as you are.”

  Hard to argue that one. Jack gazed at Nicole, looking into her luminous azure eyes, found he had no idea what to say next and got the impression that she had the same problem. Soft rose lips parted—those lips he’d kissed passionately the night before—as if she was going to speak, but she compressed them together again and swallowed hard enough he saw the muscles in her throat ripple.