“Kylie and I are having some coffee. Join us?”
Kylie realized she was gripping the edge of the table as if it were a lifeline and she was about to drown. She tried to tell herself she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t loosen her grip. She did manage what felt like a wan smile.
Coop stepped farther into the kitchen while Glenda closed the door, but he didn’t come close to Kylie. “Hi, I’m Evan Cooper. Everyone calls me Coop, obviously. And if you want, I’ll just disappear upstairs. I...heard you’ve had a bad time.”
Kylie didn’t want to be rude, much as she wished she didn’t have to face this, not yet. Not before she got her feet beneath her and felt more comfortable about being home. But she also didn’t want to be discourteous, and Glenda had asked this man to stay here. Absent three years, she still knew that Connie and Ethan Parish had three kids who probably filled their house to the rafters. Be civil, she told herself. You can always run upstairs if you feel overwhelmed.
“Please,” she said quietly. “Join us. You just got back?”
So Glenda rearranged things, putting the table between Coop and Kylie, and settling herself at the end between them. Then he smiled at Kylie, speaking easily. “I arrived in Baltimore three days ago, then flew out here to see Connie and the kids.”
“Where were you before?” Thank God she hadn’t completely lost her ability to make casual conversation.
For the first time she noticed how blue his eyes were, maybe because they almost twinkled at her. “I was here and there. Lately in Afghanistan and then Germany.”
She was relieved to feel her fingers starting to relax. Just in time, because they had begun to ache. “You must travel a lot.”
“I rarely get to hold still. Say, listen.”
Reluctantly she looked at him again and saw that he was addressing her. “Yes?”
“If me being here makes you uncomfortable, there is a motel. I’ll gladly move. Glenda told me you’re...recovering, and having me around might not be restful. I can understand that.”
She glanced at Glenda, and saw her sister looked unhappy. Was Glenda interested in this guy? Oh, hell. “No, of course you can stay here. I wouldn’t dream of asking you to move out.”
“As long as you’re sure, because I’m used to far worse digs than the local motel.”
A little laugh escaped Glenda. Relief? Kylie couldn’t tell. Glenda spoke. “Yeah, like rocky ground?”
“Yeah, like that. Cold, too. So really, neither of you need to worry about me.”
“I like Connie,” Kylie said, reaching for the old self she still retained. “I’ve known her all my life. It only seems right that if we have an extra room, you should be able to use it.”
Speaking the words had an odd effect on her. Maybe because it was the first time since she woke in the hospital that she’d made a real decision for herself. Taking control again, in a small way. She sensed a smile form on her lips. It felt good.
“Well, if I get to bothering you, just send me on my way.” He shook his head, smiling. “It wouldn’t be the first time my butt has been booted out of a place.”
“Why,” asked Glenda, “do I think there are some stories there that I’d love to hear?”
“The ones you’d most like to hear are the ones I will never share.” He winked at Kylie.
God, he was charming, she thought, and let her face relax into a small smile. Such a relief to be able to smile naturally again, not just because it was expected. There’d been too much of that in the hospital and while Glenda had helped pack up her forgotten life. Pretense. No pretense this time, and she simply smiled.
* * *
Coop wasn’t immune to that smile, not by a far sight. With eyes used to assessing men’s condition, he scanned Kylie. Still recovering, still not at full strength and still very much uneasy. But dang, when she smiled it was as if the sun lit the room.
She looked a bit like Glenda, and they’d always be recognized as sisters, but despite all she’d been through, Kylie still looked softer. Not physically softer, but emotionally softer. Of course, he’d heard all the bad stuff about Glenda’s divorce from Connie, but this was different. Whatever Kylie had been through, apparently she didn’t remember it, and failing to remember it had perhaps saved her kinder side.
Or maybe he was imagining it. All he knew for sure was that he felt the punch of attraction in his gut, both unwanted and dangerous. This woman needed to be sheltered for a while, and she didn’t need some guy like him coming on hot and heavy.
Still, it didn’t hurt to admire her wide hazel eyes, her small pert nose or the smile that hinted at an ability to hit the megawatt range when she was truly happy. Her light brown hair was almost blond, lighter than her sister’s. With effort he turned his attention back to Glenda.
“You’re working tonight, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So let me run over to Maude’s and bring you both back something for dinner. Connie’s patrolling tonight, too, and Ethan begged me to stay away so he could get the younger two kids to bed on time.”
A laugh escaped Glenda. “You’re a problem?”
Coop shrugged a shoulder, laughing himself. “Apparently I’m still new and exciting. I swear I don’t try to get them wound up.”
“Right,” said Glenda with a touch of sarcasm.
“Well, okay, they like to wrestle with me. So what do you two want for dinner? My treat.”
Glenda twisted around and pulled a paper menu from the diner off the fridge bulletin board, and a magnetic memo pad. “You need something solid to eat,” she told Kylie. “You’ve been pecking at your food like a bird and the doc said you need to eat more.”
“I eat what I can,” Kylie answered, sounding defensive.
“Then pick something with a lot of calories.”
Coop watched with amusement, sensing the older-younger sister dynamic at work. Kylie looked a bit rebellious, and Glenda was every inch the knowledgeable nurse.
“Say,” he said, “just order what you want and let Glenda yell at me. I’m not force-feeding anyone.”
Kylie looked at him and her smile returned, just a small one. “A brave man.”
“Who me?” He laughed.
Glenda spoke. “He doesn’t know me well yet.” Then she tapped the menu. “Pick whatever looks good. Just don’t go for another salad. You’re going to turn green.”
Kylie pulled the menu over in front of herself, and Coop noticed for the first time how fragile and small her hands were. She’d been a nurse? There must be more strength there than was immediately obvious. Of course, from what he’d heard, she’d been to hell and back. He figured her amnesia had to be a good thing.
But what did he know? he asked himself as he stepped outside at last with the list. The late-afternoon sun still bathed the world, though the air was growing chillier as evening approached.
He noticed the light. Light could be a good thing, providing clear sight lines and plenty of warning of bad things that might come. On the other hand, darkness had its advantages, too, like lots of cover. Odd to reflect that there’d been a time when he hadn’t much noticed the passage of hours or light, but over the years in the marines he’d become alert to its every shift and change. Just as he’d become highly attuned to changes in the wind, the barometric pressure, the movement of clouds, the whisper of even slight breezes. Acutely attuned to sounds, constantly cataloging them as natural or not.
He figured it would be