Authors: Lori Foster
Taking the opportunity to escape, Liv agreed. “His food is in the pantry. Two cups full. And give him fresh water.”
Utilizing a touch of irony, Hamilton saluted her.
If only she could have him forever, her life would be perfect. But perfection aside, she had a job she loved, a house that suited her, a dog for companionship and friends galore. No husband and no children of her own, but she had a classroom full of kids that she truly cared about.
Not the same, but close.
It was a good life, full of consistency and security. She was content.
At least she had been before Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton Wulf had once again invaded her life.
CHAPTER THREE
LIV TOOK ONE look in the mirror and cringed. Tears stained her cheeks, her makeup either gone or where it didn’t belong. She could only imagine her father’s reaction if he saw her like this.
But Hamilton hadn’t seemed to mind. No, he’d kissed her silly. Held her. Supported her.
Why did he have to be so wonderful?
And why did she have to love him so much? Through the years, other men had wanted her attention, but nothing had ever come of it. Liv tried, she really did. She gave each man a chance to wiggle into her heart. But no one compared to Ham. There were times when she doubted any man ever would.
If she could do things over... No, she wouldn’t remove Ham from her memories. Without him, her childhood after her mother’s death would have been unbearable. Her moments with Ham made up some of the best of her life. Whether he ever became part of her future, he’d left an indelible mark on her past.
Her most immediate future involved the preparation for her father’s burial. She should probably call the funeral home today. Liv rubbed her forehead, knowing that once again, Ham deserved her gratitude. He’d come to help, when this couldn’t be easy for him, either.
Taking her time in the shower, Liv let the hot water ease her tension and wash away the remnants of her tears. When she heard the loud rumble of thunder, she turned off the shower and climbed out. In addition to funeral arrangements to make, she also needed to leak-proof her house.
Trouble was, her bones felt useless and her head ached and she had a great, crushing void inside her. She and her father might have been estranged, and true, she’d often been lonely for a caring father. But in her heart, she’d always known he was still there, just a distance away. Now he was gone forever, along with the opportunity to reconcile. She should have gone to her father, she could have
made
him care.
Squeezing her eyes shut and holding her breath, she waited for the wrenching pain to subside. It didn’t, but at that moment, Ham tapped on the door.
His deep baritone vibrated through the door. “You okay, honey?”
She had to clear her throat before she could answer. “I’m fine.”
He paused before murmuring low, “You don’t sound fine.”
No, she didn’t. She shook her head, swallowed hard and lightened her tone. “I’ll be right out. How’s Jack holding up? Storms scare him.”
“He’s right beside me, but he’s not fretting about
himself,
so don’t insult him that way. He’s worrying about
you.
”
That made her smile. Yes, Jack would worry. Whenever she got sad, he crowded close and whined and looked as miserable as she felt.
And talking about sad... Her appearance in the mirror left a lot to be desired. With a red nose, puffy eyes, and still damp hair, poor Jack might disown her. No telling what Hamilton might do....
“Liv?”
Resigned, she pulled on a hooded sweatshirt and flannel pants and opened the door.
Hamilton leaned in the doorframe, staring down at her, solemn and observant. His gaze moved over her before settling on her face. “I ordered some food. It should be here soon.”
She was grateful because she had way too much on her mind to ponder what to cook. “I have to—”
“Eat.” His hand glided over her hair to her shoulder, then fell away. “You know you get shaky when you go without food.”
“True. But I don’t have time to worry about it.”
Satisfaction brought a small smile to his face. “I know. That’s why I took it on myself to order some
Kartoffelsuppe
from
Hofbräuhaus.
”
At her wide-eyed surprise, he laughed and tugged on a lock of her hair. “I thought that’d get your attention.”
Kartoffelsuppe was a delicious potato soup topped with sour cream and cheese. She’d fallen in love with it the first time Hamilton had taken her to eat at Hofbräuhaus. But the closest restaurant was more than an hour away. “How...?”
“I have a buddy who lives down that way. We were in college together at the Citadel and completed the ROTC program the same year.”
Which no doubt made them lifelong brothers. “So you just called him up...?”
“That’s one of the calls I made while you were showering. He agreed to send the food here in a taxi.” And with deeper meaning, Ham added, “The military is one big family, Liv, always willing to help out when they can.”
Unwilling to acknowledge the truth of that, Liv studiously ignored his statement. “It’s so much trouble for soup.”
“Not just soup. We’ll be sharing a
Schman-kerlplatte,
too.”
The mention of smoked pork chops, roasted chicken and fried cabbage had her mouth watering. “Okay, so maybe I can take time to eat after all.”
His smile settled into a frown. “It won’t be too much for your stomach, will it? Maybe I should have considered something lighter and blander.”
“It’s perfect.” And so thoughtful—so typical of Ham. “Thank you.”
Again, he touched her hair, tunneling his fingers in toward her scalp. For the longest time he said nothing, then with a sigh, he whispered, “Liv,” while bending down to take her mouth.
She prepared herself for another explosive kiss, but instead, he kept the touch of his mouth sweet and gentle, exploring, comforting. Before she knew it, he had her cuddled up against his chest, his strong arms around her, and Liv wanted to stay there forever.
Keeping her close, he said, “I made another call, too.”
His tone alarmed her. She tried to press back, but he wouldn’t let her. “What did you do?”
“I contacted the funeral home. I found there’s a real advantage to being in a small town. Everyone can make the time, and make things work, when they know you and care about you. And everyone here cares about you very much.”
A little stunned, Liv said only, “You contacted Martin....”
“He sends his condolences, and gave us an appointment for tomorrow morning. He confirmed that Weston can be buried Friday afternoon. If we call within the next hour, they can still get the announcement in the obituaries. I’d have done that, too, but I thought you might have something particular you wanted to say.”
For some reason, his autocratic behavior struck Liv as humorous. He’d be here two weeks, so that didn’t factor into his rush.
“With the funeral behind you,” Ham said, as if he’d read her thoughts, “you can put the grief behind you, too. Then you can start planning for the future.”
A future that included him? Is that what he wanted?
Is that what she wanted? She just didn’t know, but she did know that Hamilton held himself tense, awaiting her reaction. “You expect me to be angry.”
“Well...yeah. I know it was presumptuous of me to sort of take over. But I’m only trying to make things easier on you.”
She gave him a fierce hug. “And I appreciate it. We can decide on the announcement together, if that’s okay with you.”
Ham drew back, his surprise evident, and then he kissed her hard. “We’ll get through this, Liv.” His mouth still touched hers, his breath warm and fast.
“Together.”
That sounded nice. If only it could always be that way. But the very nature of military service guaranteed that Ham wouldn’t always be there—no matter what he promised.
Did she dare to settle for less, to compromise her own convictions...?
More thunder rumbled, closer this time, prompting Liv to hurry. After girding herself, she confessed, “Could we work on the announcement now?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“It’s not that I mean to rush, but...my roof needs work.”
He shrugged, confused as to what one had to do with the other. “I noticed.”
“You did?” He’d been so openly admiring, she hadn’t realized. “The roof’s not that old, but it did get hit with some storm damage. A few of the shingles are loose or missing. There are replacement shingles in the garage, but I haven’t had time to get to it yet.”
“I told you I’d been looking at houses lately, remember? I’ve seen more than a few that needed some repairs. As long as it’s nothing structural, who cares?”
Liv wanted to ask him
why
he’d been looking at houses if he had no intention of leaving the military. An officer’s mobile lifestyle made putting down roots impossible. But before she could find the right words, he added, “That storm is coming in fast. I gather the roof leaks?”
Back in the moment, Liv nodded. “In more than a few places. Luckily, there’s no furniture upstairs, and not much in the way of carpet. But I don’t want to see the hardwood floors get drenched either, so I need to put some buckets down to catch the worst of it.”
Ham pressed another kiss to her mouth, then one to her forehead. His casual touches kept her off balance while at the same time providing the human touch she needed in the face of her loss.
“I’ll help.” He drew her toward the kitchen. “But first...do you have a pen and paper anywhere?”
It took them over twenty minutes to get together the facts that summed up her father’s life. Hamilton called the funeral home to give the information, and Martin assured him he’d be able to get it to the paper on time.
Ham made everything so much easier. With him by her side, she couldn’t imagine dealing with her father’s death alone.
After he hung up the phone, Hamilton asked, “Are the buckets in the garage?”
“Yes. I’ll show you.” Everywhere they went, Jack followed. The second they stepped outside to the narrow path connecting her house to her detached garage, the dark sky closed in around them, thick with moisture and static with electricity.
Ham lifted the heavy, warped wooden door with an ease that brought home the contrasts in their physiques. Liv had a replacement garage door on her list of things needed for the house, but like the missing shingles, she hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
The dark, dank interior of the concrete-block building smelled musty and Jack, the big baby, pressed into her side. “On the shelf over the lawn mower.”
Ham grabbed up three buckets. “Are these enough?”
Half-embarrassed, Liv reached past him and took up two more. “Unfortunately, no.”
Ham frowned a little in thought, then urged her back out of the garage. The wind caught his words, rushing them past her as he brought the door back down to close it securely. “If the rain holds off, I’ll check out the roof. Maybe I can patch it so the leaks don’t damage your ceilings too much.”
Unlike her father, who had hated repair work, Ham offered with no hesitation. Such a simple thing; shoot, most men were happiest with a tool in hand. But it was more than that now. She couldn’t analyze Ham or the way he made her feel, not now with her emotions so close to the surface. Her independent nature rebelled, but more than anything, she wanted to turn herself over to Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton Wulf’s tender care.
Dangerous. Very, very dangerous—most especially to her heart.
They reentered the kitchen just as the rain came in a deluge, washing over the windows and filling the house with noise. Jack whined and tucked himself closer to her legs, nearly causing her to stumble.
“I guess I won’t be patching the roof today.”
Liv wanted to comfort Jack, but leaks were a major priority. She put a hand to the dog’s neck and started for the hallway. “Don’t worry about it. I was going to hire someone next week, anyway.”
“Fibber.”
Affronted, Liv jerked around at the base of the stairs—and saw the gleam in Ham’s eyes. He always saw right through her.
She scowled at him.
He smiled crookedly and shook his head. “You can’t lie to me, Liv.”
“All right,” she grouched, stomping up the steps to avoid his astute gaze. “It’s a fib. Big deal.”
“Why tell it in the first place?”
“Because I don’t want to be indebted to you.” The second the words left her mouth, she felt the change in the air.
“Don’t push it, Liv.” At the top of the stairs, he caught her elbow and drew her around to face him. Jack looked between the two of them, alert to the new tension in the air, wary. “There’s something between us. It’s been there for years.” His voice lowered, his expression hard. “It will always be there.”
“No.”
“Yes.” To make his point, he backed her up to the wall, looming, imposing. He still held the buckets in his hands, so he used his chest, pressing in on her, keeping her immobile. His mouth grazed her throat, up the side of her neck to her ear, where his tongue gently explored.
“Ham...” Her protest came out a breathless plea.
“Anything you need, Liv,” he whispered, “anything you want, you can always get from me.”
Her heartbeat drummed and her mouth went dry. Against the hard muscled wall of his broad chest, her nipples drew tight. Her stomach bottomed out when his thigh pressed against her belly....
And he stepped away, not far, but enough that their bodies no longer touched. “This is a tough time, honey, I know that. Your world has just been turned upside down. And for that reason, as much as any other, I won’t let you keep your distance.”
Speechless, Liv stared up at him. With every fiber of her being, she wanted him. It didn’t matter that she knew firsthand how much heartache resulted from loving an officer. She well remembered her mother’s tears and prayers when her father was away. It had been awful then. It’d be ten times more so with Ham.
On the ridiculous hope that by not seeing him, she could distance herself a little from his emotional pull, her eyes sank closed. She sucked in several deep breaths to steady herself, to shore up her wavering resolve.