Out of Uniform (Wingmen Warriors 14)

Indignation snapped in his eyes. “I happen to think you can ask for about anything you need at a time like this. For what it’s worth, I’m here for you, and that includes helping you through this.”

For all of four more days remaining in his leave time?

The words went unspoken between them. Still she could almost hear the clock ticking away their time together. She wanted to believe she would be holding Evan by nightfall, but she had to accept the reality that she could be searching for him for a long while—on her own.

An uncomfortable silence stretched. Morning-after awkwardness? Maybe. She hadn’t expected declarations of undying love, certainly wasn’t sure she could have handled it if he’d said any such thing. Her one brush with love and marriage had left her burned beyond belief.

All past problems aside, because of Evan she couldn’t think beyond the next few hours, much less into any kind of future. She needed to hold on to the hope that with her returned memory, she would find her son. “I’ll scrounge up some breakfast.”

Jacob watched Dee make tracks toward the door, her signature spunk starching all the way up her spine. He hated that his rotten mood had kept him from reaching out to her after sex.

The phone calls—his and hers—had left him frustrated, edgy and feeling too damned inadequate. She deserved better from him.

Halfway across the room, she paused. “What?”

“We don’t have to leave for another hour. There’s nothing to accomplish by showing up early.” He extended his arms. “Come here.”

Still she hesitated.

Dee usually had such a grab-life attitude, he kept forgetting about those tender feelings. He could use the time to gather more information about her past while indulging her in some morning-after cuddling women seemed to need. “We’ve watched a lot of sunsets together.” He nodded to the picture window across the room. “Let’s watch a sunrise.”

At the mention of their ritual after supper, her shoulders relaxed. She inched toward him.

He spread his arms wider. “Come here.”

“Come get me.”

Jacob couldn’t hold back the smile. His Dee had returned, and he’d missed her even during those few short minutes she’d been gone.

He tugged her arm as he sank into the recliner. She curved into him as he settled his chin on her head. A perfect fit. “My ID of the man who checked you in matches Lambert’s description. The search was broad before, but now they’re checking out ferries, bus stations, airlines. The border patrol has been alerted.”

“Two weeks too late. He’s probably already left the country.”

“So they’ll find him in Canada.”

Her bare foot peeked from the hem of her jeans. He smiled, remembering her surprise that first day at finding she had big feet. Jacob cupped the graceful arch in his hand and warmed her skin. “That picture from your parents will be a big help to the police.”

Dee stiffened in his arms, hesitated, then said, “Their photo will be at least six months old. Hopefully somebody can get to one of my more recent snapshots soon.”

Six months old? Odd. His friends all had pictures of their kids littering tabletops and albums, a new batch cropping up almost by the week. “It’s better than nothing until somebody gets to yours.”

She shifted in his lap, her bottom wiggling against him again. Jacob gritted his teeth, damn near cracked a crown.

Her face rested against his chest, her lashes fluttering against his skin. He tamped down temptation, then shot it all to hell by tunneling his hand under the quilt to cup her warm skin. She sighed and sagged into his touch.

Patting her back wasn’t enough. He needed to fix her whole world and make sure no one ever hurt her again. “It’s going to be all right.”

Dee swiped her wrist under her nose. “I hope so. It’s just tough to trust my judgment after the way I fell for a man like that. I haven’t spoken to my parents in years. Other than sending them an occasional picture of Evan, we haven’t had contact since I married Blane.”

That explained the old picture. But it didn’t explain how a parent gave up on a child. That he couldn’t understand. Hadn’t anyone stood by this woman the way she deserved? “How long were you married?”

“Eight years.”

“You married young, then.” And went right from her unforgiving parents to an unfaithful husband. No wonder she instinctively resisted leaning on anyone.

“I was a late-in-life child for my parents. They petted me, took care of everything for me. Sounds pretty pathetic when I say it out loud.” She traced along a patch on his sleeve, her fingers sketching over a stitched flag. “They didn’t like Blane. I made my first big stand in marrying him, and was too prideful to admit to them I was wrong.”

“Everybody makes mistakes. That’s life. Sounds like your parents didn’t give you a chance to learn from making them.”