Full Surrender

Besides, Alicia’s words had been an important reminder. No matter that Stephanie couldn’t relinquish control of her life to Danny’s certainty he knew best, she could at least admit that he’d only been looking out for her.

Digging the phone from her purse, she came across the notepad with the details from Danny’s homecoming on it. She’d taken those notes while talking to Danny’s mom. She’d scribbled the time and date of his ship’s arrival in Norfolk in peacock-blue ink, her handwriting neat and deliberate as if she was taking the most important information of her life. The name of his ship was underlined and for some reason that hard line of ink reminded her how hopeful she’d been when she’d written it down.

She’d waited for this moment for over a year after deciding she really needed to see him again. But had she been waiting for the reunion   far longer than that? Holding the petal-pink notepaper in her hand, she squeezed it tight. What if she was making a terrible mistake to put her need for autonomy above love?

More importantly, what if she was just using that need as an excuse for a deeper fear of committing?

The scrawled heart inside the D in Danny’s name sure wasn’t the artwork of a woman prepared to give him up.

When the phone in her other hand rang, she nearly jumped, dropping the notepad back into her purse.

Danny.

Her heart did another flip, hopeful and fearful at the same time.

“Hello?”

“We need to talk.” His words were brusque, but this time, Stephanie tried to see beyond that.

He was hurting, too.

“I know. I was just going to call you.” She paced the floor of the living room, walking in circles with nervous energy.

“Are you still at the gatehouse?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you meet me down by the dock? We can talk there.”

“Okay.” She slipped her toes into a pair of flip-flops by the front door—the blue ones with the big flowers on the thong. Weren’t those the shoes of an optimist? A woman who could see the positive side of things? Oddly, they gave her courage. “Good idea. I think I need some fresh air and a fresh perspective.”

Already, she was out the screen door, letting it bang softly behind her.

“The sea is great for that.” Was it her imagination, or had his tone lost some of its defensiveness?

“I can be there in five,” she assured him, her fears turning to hope. Or at very least, determination.

She wasn’t going to give up on her Murphy man easily. Clicking off the phone, she picked up her speed and jogged toward the beach.

14

SETTING ASIDE HIS cell phone on the wooden deck lounger at the end of the pier, Danny breathed in the sea air. It helped him calm down more than the Russian vodka or the support of his brothers. Maybe that was one reason he couldn’t give up the navy. He felt a balance out on the water that he never experienced on dry land.

Although, he had to admit, he’d glimpsed moments of possibility with Stephanie over the past few days. When things were going smoothly between them, he felt more grounded with her than he ever had anywhere else. She charmed him. Amused him. Humbled him with her giving spirit when he saw the pictures of the shelter animals she photographed.

He’d accused her of running scared this morning, and while he still believed that was true, he also remembered she was entitled to a few hang-ups. Hell, he’d been so quick to join the navy to help the war effort and keep people like her safe abroad. Over the years, he’d told himself he’d do anything to be with her again. Yet, the first time she’d pulled away, he’d gotten mad instead of trying to understand where she was coming from.

Some hero.

Footsteps on the dock surprised him. Turning, he saw her jog down the dance floor, then slow her pace as she hit the narrow pier closer to the chairs where he sat. He rose to his feet, needing to confront the mess he’d made head-on.

Her turquoise-colored dress swirled around her knees as she stopped a few feet away. She was so beautiful she stole his breath with her vivid blue eyes and hair so dark it was blue-black. Her ponytail drooped to one side after her jog, the hair-tie hanging limply near her shoulder. He could have just stared at her forever, taking in the details that he’d missed or forgotten in the years apart.

“You want to have a seat?” He gestured to the chairs at the end of the pier.

Her lips twisted in indecision and she pointed toward the planked wood beneath their shoes. “Can we just sit here? With our feet in the water?”

“Sure.” He toed off a pair of tennis shoes he’d worn over bare feet while she slipped out of her flip-flops. “Thanks for coming.”