Winter Reunion

God sure had to be laughing now.

Having to face her during that meeting had left him more tense than any battle or covert operation. And now, instead of managing to avoid her and the old, raw emotions surrounding their ill-fated marriage, he was going to be seeing her all the time.

Worse, he had to do a good job of it—to insure that the stipulations of his mother’s will were met well enough to pass muster with a couple of attorneys planning to guard her interests.

The irony was almost enough to help him ignore the aching in his shoulder and the sharp, stabbing pain that radiated down his upper arm with every unguarded movement.

At the sound of a knocking behind him, he spun toward the front door, automatically reaching for his absent weapon and scanning the interior of the building for exits and cover, his heart rate escalating.

He blinked.

Forced himself to relax.

And squinted into the sunlight streaming in behind a slender figure silhouetted in the windowed upper half of the door. Though the thick, rippled glass muted her shape, his gut wrenched and his heart took an extra thud at his instant recognition, triggering emotions and memories that were long dead…and would stay that way.

She knocked again, then tried the door handle and pushed the door open to stand in the entry, looking a little hesitant. “I…I was outside the bookstore and saw you unlocking the door down here. Mind if I come in?”

He gave a single, sharp nod.

Beth stepped a few feet inside. Avoiding his gaze, she surveyed the interior, her eyes sparkling. “Wow—just look at the natural light coming through all the high windows, and look at all the space. This place has tremendous potential. It ought to be perfect for whatever kind of business moves in here.” She gave him a speculative look. “Maybe you should just lease it instead of selling. You might want to come home for good someday.”

“No. I’ll be leaving as soon as I can, and I won’t be back. There’s nothing to keep me here anymore.”

Her expression hardened. “Of course not.”

Guilt lanced through him at his inadvertent, callous words. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She raised a delicate eyebrow, making him feel like an even bigger jerk. “We’ve both moved on. All for the best, and all of that. Right?”

A shaft of sunlight lit her wildly curly chestnut hair, highlighting its varying shades of amber and gold. It had always felt so soft and silky, he remembered; baby fine and fragrant with the scent of wildflowers. Gentle, just like her.

She’d so deserved better than someone like him.

He belatedly realized that he hadn’t answered her when her smile wobbled and her gaze slid away from his.

“I…didn’t mean to interrupt, or anything,” she murmured. “We can talk another time.”

She wore gleaming gold hoops in her ears and a long denim skirt, topped with an oversize ruby sweater that looked soft as rabbit’s fur. Despite the casual clothes, she had an air of sophistication and reserve far different from the girl she’d been years ago.

It was something he needed to remember.

They’d both changed so much. There was no going back. All they needed was to be businesslike. Polite. Focused.

“But I do think we need to talk, Dev,” she added. “When you have some time.”

He winced. “Uh…yeah. Some time.”

She ignored his dismissal. “Maybe now rather than later, come to think of it.” Her mouth flattened. “Because I think we need to make something perfectly clear.”

Chapter Three

Maybe Beth hadn’t much personal experience, given her absentee husband, but she’d certainly read enough of the pop-psychology books in her store to know that most guys cringed at the thought of discussing feelings. If she’d ever doubted that bit of wisdom, she only had to look at Dev’s guarded expression to know it was true.

But standing here alone with him, with no other distractions, was probably the perfect place to set things straight.

“We need to talk,” she said briskly, “because we need to put the past to rest, once and for all. Otherwise, this situation will be unbelievably awkward.”

He studied her, his eyes wary, as if he expected her to dissolve into a tearful, wretched mess.

But she’d die before she allowed him to catch even a glimpse of the damage he’d caused…or the pain she felt, every single day, since her life had been shattered. No matter what her mother claimed, he had relinquished that right.

“I admit…” She hesitated, searching for an innocuous word that would betray nothing of how she truly felt. “That it was a shock when you insisted on a divorce. But you have your life in the service and other relationships to pursue, I’m sure. The last thing you needed were bothersome ties to a wife back home. Right?”

His eyebrows drew together.

“It didn’t take long for me to get over it, really.” She managed a smile, even though her heart was pounding against her ribs and the half-truth now lodged in her throat like a chunk of granite. “So don’t worry about having to deal with any big scenes from me. I have no regrets.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s…good.”

“So with that cleared up, it shouldn’t be hard to maintain a business relationship with each other, right?” She fluttered a dismissive hand. “The other thing I need to clarify is that your mother’s will was a complete surprise. I had no idea she’d included me, and I certainly didn’t try to finagle my way into her good graces.”

“I never said—”

“But you might have thought it. Just so you know, your mother was polite but distant to me after the divorce. Even before that, we were never chummy during all the times you were away in the service. There were no little chats, no invitations for coffee. So if you’re imagining any sort of collusion regarding you, her will or my bookstore building, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

A muscle ticked at the side of his jaw. “I didn’t suggest anything of the sort.”

“She stayed in your corner,” Beth added for emphasis. “And I didn’t expect or seek anything more. Now it’s your turn.”

“What?”

“If you have any concerns or questions, go for it.”

He fell silent, his intense gaze locked on hers, as if he were examining her very soul. “I…guess not,” he said at last.

“Good. So now we can try to be friendly business associates, at least. No other expectations.”

“Right.”

“It’s good to see you in one piece,” she added. “When I heard you’d been wounded, I started praying that you’d be all right.”

His gaze shifted away. “Thanks.”

Years ago, he might’ve added a sardonic laugh at any acknowledgment of her faith, but this time he actually seemed to mean it. Yet another way he’d changed into someone she no longer knew, she mused. “So you think your shoulder will be fine for active duty?”

“It had better be,” he muttered.

He edged away and she saw the glint of something at his ear. “Was…that your only injury this time?”