"We need to talk." Gray waited for Lori to answer, but she stayed silent, jamming the key into her front door. Streetlamps threw shadows across her profile, or had he put those there?
Some days sapped the life right out of a guy. Magda lay slack against his shoulder, exhausted from the party. He shifted her more securely and waited for Lori to answer.
The celebration had gone off without a hitch—well attended, lasting hours past the schedule. Magda had won hearts as she taught her new friends a mixed English-Sentavian version of "Old MacDonald."
Lori's perfect smile had charmed his friends. He couldn't complain, except he recognized that smile. He'd invented it, after all.
Lori was upset. No one else had noticed. He couldn't miss it.
The trip to base should have offered her closure, saved her from being hurt when he left so he could shake loose the unrest dogging his heels. Instead he'd done the very thing he'd sworn never to do. He'd started an ulcer gnawing in her stomach just like the one his father had given his mother.
Gray had flown countless incident-free flights. Not today, not when he'd really needed to. A damned popped seal had blown his whole plan, and now he needed to fix it.
For two open, honest people, they'd danced around the real issue long enough, and time was running out. "Lori? Did you hear me?"
She spun to face him as the door swung open behind her. "Okay, fine. Let's talk."
The tight pinch to her full mouth told him clearly he wouldn't get anywhere with her tonight. No need to step straight onto the land mine. He would have his hands full dodging the less obvious ones. "Not now. Not while we're both wired. Not with Magda around."
And not with the moonlight caressing Lori's fragile jaw and glinting off golden streaks in her hair, hair he wanted to bury his face in while he buried himself in her. The open door taunted him with an invitation to Lori's room and peach-scented sheets. "Definitely not here."
"Well, Major Clark, that pretty much rules out all the options because I have a child to put to bed."
The marshy wind toyed with her hair, gusting strands over him. Options dwindled until he finally settled on the one place guaranteed to douse romantic thoughts. "My folks are having my brother, sister and their families over tomorrow for a farewell party."
"I know. Your mother invited me. Twice."
"I should have warned you. Sorry." The more he thought of going to his parents' for the day, the more he warmed to the idea. He would show her a good time, let them end on a positive note. And maybe if she spent more time with his family and saw his parents together at home, she might understand his need to stay away from her. "I want you and Magda to come."
Her brow quirked, Lori-spunk firmly in place and stirring his exhausted body wide awake. She also looked three seconds away from telling him to go pound sand.
Gray plowed over the silence before she could speak. "Come with me for the day. My mom can watch Magda. We'll talk without distractions."
"Wasn't today enough for you, Gray? It was for me."
She was giving him his walking papers, a chance to end it here and now. But he couldn't do it. Wouldn't do it this way. "We can't leave it like this. At least at my folks' we can find some time to talk—"
"Won't your mother think—"
"I'll take care of my mom. This isn't about her." He lifted Lori's hand and held it loosely in his, studying the fragile bones with an odd sort of objectivity. He knew the names of every bone in that hand. Just regular bones. But infused with Lori's vibrancy, they were beautiful, unique. "We have to talk."
Bells chimed eleven times—or was it twelve—while he waited, already lining up his next argument. Gray shifted Magda more securely on his shoulder, arm hooked under her bottom.
Head bowed, Lori stared down at their clasped hands. "I guess if the king of keep-it-simple wants chitchat, it must be pretty bad." She tugged her hand free and pressed it to her stomach. "We tried so hard to avoid this."
"Too much like last summer."
"But worse."
"Worse?"
Her mouth twitched with a reluctant smile. "We didn't even get to have sex."
Her words punched him square in the libido, and he could only laugh. His body hurt like hell from the rapid decompression. His head wasn't much better off, and still he ached for her. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into Lori's big bed and sleep tangled together.
Instead he laughed at himself and the colossal mess he'd made of his attempt to forget her. Lori joined him until she sagged against the balcony rail, swiping her wrist over her eyes.
He took her hand again and wouldn't let her pull free this time, instead tugging her to him. Her tear-filled eyes met his, stealing the breath from his lungs more effectively than any rapid decompression.