Navy Hope Read online

  "Why didn't you tell me?" The words slipped out as if she had no control of her mouth. "Never mind," she added. "It's history and none of my business."

  "It was your business, and I should have told you—" He looked past her to Maggie. "I'm sure we'll have a chance to talk about it over the next six months."

  She hadn't wanted anything to do with a man interested in the military, not after what she'd watched her father go through with his PTSD from Vietnam. As much as it had hurt, she knew way back when they dated that she'd never see their relationship through, not if he was going into the military.

  He'd had his life figured out, and that was one of the reasons she'd fallen in love with him. What she lacked in drive and direction, he'd had. What he'd lacked in knowing how to have fun, she'd shown him.

  They'd shown each other….

  "I'm Maggie, the admin."

  "I'm sorry." Val wanted to go to her desk and hide behind her computer screen. "Maggie's my right hand here at BTS."

  "Welcome, Lucas. I have the key to your suite, which I'm happy to say is our most recently remodeled. You have the best of everything, including a gas-insert fireplace."

  "That sounds wonderful." The way Lucas spoke evoked a sense of warmth and security she hadn't felt in a very long time.

  What was the matter with her? Lucas wasn't the first handsome man who'd walked into Beyond the Stars. He was, however, the first male counselor she'd employed. Not by choice; it was just a coincidence that the other three counselors were all women who'd been available at the right time.

  This had been the right time for Lucas. For a male counselor…

  But male didn't begin to do justice to his aura of self-confidence and obvious physical strength. He had to be six feet tall, well over Val's five-feet seven inches, and his shoulders seemed wider now, his body more filled out. Gone were the gangly, adolescent limbs. Though still slim, he projected a man's strength.

  His hands—God, his hands! Long, strong fingers she had memories of…

  He was perhaps the most attractive man she'd ever met.

  She all but ran to the coffee counter in the office corner. "Would you like a coffee or tea?"

  "Water's fine, unless you have green tea?"

  "Of course."

  She dropped a capsule into the coffeemaker that doubled as tea brewer.

  "Great."

  She jumped and turned when he spoke. He stood directly in front of her. Too close.

  Not close enough.

  "Water's in the fridge?" He bent down to the mini-fridge next to her and opened the door. The shelves glistened with their array of diet sodas, half-and-half and a bottle of pure water. He raised his brows and Val knew he was judging the amount of diet soda on the shelves. She wanted to slam the door shut with her foot.

  "I have a bit of an addiction." Why should she explain her love of diet soda to anyone, much less a new hire?

  Lucas grabbed the water and stood up.

  "That stuff'll kill you." He twisted off the top of the plastic bottle and guzzled half of it in three swallows. She couldn't help noticing the tanned skin of his throat, his face, his hands…

  Tanned skin in January. Maybe he'd turned into one of those metrosexual types, used tanning beds.

  Not judging from his callused hands and five o'clock shadow.

  He'd always liked the outdoors. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes reflected it, too.

  She ignored the misplaced elation that he might enjoy the outdoors as much as she did. What difference did it make?

  "I exercise and eat well," she said. "Our bodies detox the bad stuff."

  "Uh-huh." His gaze captured hers over the tilted water bottle, his bemused expression the same one she'd known so well.

  As if some magic door had been opened, Val saw herself walking hand in hand with Lucas across the Penn State campus. In that memory, he'd laughed at something she said and leaned in to kiss her.

  She'd thought herself in love with Lucas when she was nineteen. He'd said he loved her, too.

  Their chemistry had been undeniable, as unquestionable as their youth.

  Their mutual innocence.

  "Let me get you some final forms to fill out, and Maggie will walk you to your suite." She had to put some space between them or she was going to make a huge mistake.

  They'd parted after sophomore year, promising they'd write all summer. She'd hardly been able to wait until classes started again. Despite her feelings about getting involved with someone in the military, she'd willingly overlooked the fact that he was so keen on the Navy.

  Then he'd vanished into thin air. Only one short note had arrived in her mailbox the second week of her third year, to tell her that he needed to take some time off, that she shouldn't worry about him, that he was sorry but their relationship wasn't going to work out.

  She hadn't seen him again—until ten minutes ago.

  Chapter Six

  He liked the way she tossed her head as though she could wave a wand and make everything easy, no regrets.

  Back in college, they'd met in math class, a pre-requisite for both of them as she pursued social work and he was taking a pre-law curriculum. He'd loved teasing her about how much money he was going to make dealing with the world's problems, while she'd be trying to solve them on a pauper's pay.

  "I read online that you graduated from Penn State, and then went to Catholic University in D.C. for your graduate work. How did you end up here, so far out west?" He was curious but also didn't think it was fair for her to ask all the questions.

  Her eyes narrowed and she bit her lower lip.

  Pay dirt.

  She was here because of a man. He didn't see a ring, but a bare hand meant nothing.

  "Family circumstances." She smiled. Professional, smooth and completely impersonal. Yeah, he'd hit a button.

  "Touché."

  "I'm not trying to spar with you, Lucas. I really did end up here because of family issues, most of which you've probably read about on BTS's website."

  Before he could offer condolences on her brother's death, she'd regained her composure, and he watched her as she collected several files from her desk and handed them to him.

  "Here's everything you need for the first week. Your client load, information about the island, the ferry schedule and some travel brochures for Whistler and Vancouver. Do you ski?"

  "I love to, but I rarely have time anymore."

  She smiled. "I know what you mean. Life gets in the way, doesn't it?" She pointed at the folder labeled Fun. "You'll find information on skiing at Whistler in British Columbia, and Mount Baker on the mainland. You'll need breaks from the work and even the island."

  "I'm used to a very intense work schedule." Did she really think he'd need a break from a resort?

  "Sure you are. But you're on my team now, and one of my requirements is that you be as relaxed and happy as possible while you're here. You'll project that well-being and confidence to our clients, and they deserve nothing less."

  "Got it." Actually, he did, and he was impressed by Val's depth of commitment. As the owner and boss of BTS, she certainly called the shots with her staff in a very different way.

  This wasn't going to be anything like Walter Reed.

  Starting with the hot woman in the tight white pants. The girl he'd had the most memorable sex of his life with all those years ago.

  She's your boss.

  Holy shit.

  He needed space. He'd only been here fifteen minutes, and he already had island fever.

  More like Val fever.

  He tried to focus on something else. His gaze caught on a pair of woman's running shoes next to Val's desk.

  "You still run?"

  "Yes." No invitation for him to join her, though.

  A good run around the island that was going to be his home for the next six months would calm his nerves and get rid of the sensations caused by shaking her hand.

  Awareness.

  Need.

&nbs
p; A need he'd rationalized ignoring because he wasn't "ready" yet.

  The truth was that a man in his mid-thirties was pretty much ready at all times. For a physical relationship. But sharing emotional intimacies? Nope, he wasn't going to pay that price.

  Lucas did what he always did when his head warred with his instincts.

  He decided to throw himself into his work.

  "When do I start?"

  Chapter Seven

  Just as she'd done with the rest of the staff who'd become her family at BTS,Val invited Lucas to a welcome dinner in her farmhouse home. It was the oldest original building on the property and she'd refurbished it with modern conveniences, while retaining its century-old hominess.

  Maggie and the other gals were taking care of the trimmings—salad, bread, dessert. All Val needed to do was grill the Sockeye salmon to perfection and chill the chardonnay. Three of the staff were recovering alcoholics, so she made up a huge pitcher of iced tea with fresh mint clipped from her kitchen windowsill pots.

  As she brewed the tea, she reflected on how much she'd learned since she'd first opened BTS. From her own experience and her career as a social worker, she'd thought she understood the effects of addiction on an addict and his or her loved ones. But until she saw counselors working with the families who tackled their addictions head-on—making no excuses for having lost a family member in the war—Val hadn't recognized the depth of commitment required to achieve recovery.

  She was grateful she could enjoy a glass of wine and stop. Her father hadn't been so fortunate.

  A quick knock at the door was followed by Gloria, one of the counselors, coming in with a round casserole dish in her pot-holder-covered hands. Gloria lived in one of the on-site apartments, closest to the farmhouse.

  "Hey, Val! Here's dessert. Maggie's bringing the ice cream."

  "Mmm, that smells fantastic. Your marionberry crisp?"

  "Of course!"

  They laughed. For these welcome dinners Val liked to serve local fare. Marionberries were unique to the islands of the Pacific Northwest, a cross between a blackberry and raspberry. They were delectable in pies and crisps.

  Lines appeared between Gloria's perfectly plucked brows. "Do you still have that heavy cream in your fridge from our dinner last week?"

  "Sure do."

  "Great. If you don't mind, I'll whip up some of it before we eat. I'll keep it in one of your stainless bowls until we're ready for it."

  "You know where everything is. Thanks for taking care of it. I've got to get the salmon going."

  "Go ahead, I'll answer the door for you."

  "Thanks!"

  Val slipped out to her deck with a glass of the chardonnay, a Washington State label she enjoyed. The night was dark as charcoal, typical for early evening in mid-winter. The northwest stayed light until almost eleven at night during the summer months and she missed the lengthened twilight. Still, snuggled in her favorite hoodie and sheltered by the tall fir trees that surrounded the resort, she was comfortable.

  The deck was her refuge after a long day at BTS, and her favorite place to have breakfast when the weather cooperated.

  The stars twinkled in the small patch of sky she glimpsed through the high branches. It was a time for new beginnings, but not with Dr. Lucas.

  She lit the gas grill and waited for it to heat before she placed two large salmon fillets in a fish basket and set the contraption on the grill. After ten minutes or so, she grabbed her pot holder and started to turn the basket over.

  "I'm good at the grill if you'd like a hand."

  Val paused mid-flip and turned toward Lucas. His voice was already familiar. Or more accurately, still familiar.

  You're in trouble.

  Chapter Eight

  "I didn't hear you open the door," Val said, trying to remain unaffected by Lucas.

  "I like to be a bit mysterious." He stood next to her, relaxed and smiling.

  She laughed. "Doesn't it feel like you're being scrutinized like a bug when you apply for a new position?"

  "It's all part of the process," he said with a shrug. "Nothing more than I went through for my security clearances. I wouldn't want someone treating me or my family unless I was sure they were totally legal and qualified."

  "Still, it must be a little uncomfortable for you, since I know way more about you than you know about me or anyone else who works here." She spoke to him as she tended the grill. Better than make eye contact with him.

  "Are you trying to tell me you lead a double life as an assassin or something?" As she swallowed a giggle, he leaned against the deck railing. She felt his stare through the darkness. The deck light's beams didn't reach far in the winter night.

  "Nothing like that, no." She prayed that the night and the smoke from the steaming salmon hid her blush, or that he attributed it to the heat of the grill or even her glass of wine. Which she hadn't touched.

  "I suppose neither of us is the same person we were all those years ago, Lucas."

  "Not at first glance, no. But despite our life experiences, and everything that's shaped us to this point, I'd like to think our basic personalities are the same."

  She looked at him.

  "How could they be?"

  "You sound like a woman who's been through a lot."

  "No more than you." She paused. "I read your résumé. I know you were in some tough places when you were a SEAL."

  "I was. And that helped me figure out that I wanted to be in a profession that gave back to others who'd served. It didn't hurt to find something I could still practice when I'm sixty-five. I left active duty once my initial commitment was up and went to med school."

  "Yet you still work with wounded vets."

  "It's in my blood at this point. It was also a matter of opportunity. I scored a scholarship from the National Health Services and then owed time at Walter Reed. This is, in fact, my first job away from a government facility."

  Val laughed. "Well, BTS isn't Walter Reed, that's for sure. But your clients will be just as traumatized, Lucas. I haven't offered you an easy desk job."

  "I don't want one."

  She studied him in the dim light. "No, I suppose you don't."

  Lucas didn't do easy. Never had.

  Chapter Nine

  "I'm Tanya, and I've been at BTS for almost two years. I'm a certified social worker and family counselor. My specialty was addiction therapy, but I got a bit burned out on it, so I came here, intending to stay for only a few months…." Tanya Ripley twisted a long, curly lock of hair around her finger.

  "You mean like me?" Lucas teased, prompting a loud chuckle around the table. They were taking turns introducing themselves.

  Val noticed that Lucas fit in with the group and wasn't surprised. She saw Miles Mikowski nod at him.

  "Hey, Lucas, I'm Miles. I'm still on active duty, stationed on Whidbey. I come over to San Juan to talk to the families about how I put my life together after I lost my leg."

  "I'm guessing that helps you as well as them."

  "Absolutely. Nothing like seeing a spark of hope in a kid's or widow's eye, hope that maybe they'll be able to move on. I know this guy—" he playfully punched the man to his left "—because he's put me through so much torture in his clinic."

  "I'm Drew, and I'm not usually here, since I run my own physical therapy clinic on Whidbey Island. I decided to get away overnight, and this is heaven because no one on this island knows me."

  To Val, Drew hardly resembled the handsome man he'd been when he'd first offered BTS free passes to use his clinic.

  "How are you holding up, Drew?" She didn't want him to feel he had to share more than he wanted, but except for Lucas, everyone at the table knew his story.

  "I'm okay." Drew shot a look at Lucas. "Since you're not from here, you probably don't know that my wife was lost at sea almost a month ago. She's a Navy pilot."

  "I'm so sorry." Lucas's expression remained neutral, open.

  Drew shrugged. "We weren't doing well before
she left, and I feel something of a fraud playing the tortured husband."

  Val noted that he didn't say "grieving."

  "Have you heard any more about the accident?" Lucas posed the question no one else asked.

  "She's still alive. No evidence of that, but I know it." Drew spoke with a conviction that stopped everyone from eating, sipping, chatting.

  "Trust your gut, Drew." Maggie spoke up. "I knew my husband was gone before the Navy knocked at my door. I felt it in my bones. If you don't feel that, then she's still here."

  Drew nodded, his eyes downcast.

  "Where did you study physical therapy?" Lucas guided the conversation to less emotional territory.

  Drew told him. Her team chimed in and the low din of their chatter resumed.

  Val soaked up the camaraderie she'd only dreamed of cultivating a couple of years ago. The concept of working with a team, the sense of belonging at BTS, were as important as the families they served.

  "So, you've signed a six-month contract, right, Lucas?" Winnie Ford sipped her water. She brought Sam, her therapy dog, to BTS once a month, and this was her week. She didn't usually stay overnight but her husband was home with their daughters. There were five apartments at the resort reserved for counselors, and two for transient support staff like Winnie.

  "Yes."

  "Well, if you change your mind, I'm sure Val would entertain an extension." Winnie winked at Lucas.

  This drew another laugh. Yes, Lucas was going to fit in without a problem.

  "Don't scare him, Winnie. Have you seen the pile of case files on my desk?" Val emphasized her point with her fork midair. When Lucas's grin turned into a smirk, she looked at her fork. It had a noodle hanging from it.

  The team broke into more laughter.

  "Okay, I deserved that." Val hid her embarrassment by focusing on her dinner.

  "Get used to this, Lucas. We don't keep the kid gloves on for anyone." Maggie beamed at him as if he were her own son. Val stifled a groan.

  "I knew it was going to be an interesting job when I was on the ferry over." Lucas paused, making eye contact with everyone around the table before he went on. "I almost tossed my cookies in the storm!"