* * *
It was only a little after eight-thirty when Lindy returned to the apartment. She would have preferred to stay away much longer, but after reading through the evening newspaper for apartment rentals and wasting five dollars on a horrible movie she didn’t know where else to go or what else to do. Eventually she’d need to return anyway, and knowing Rush, he’d probably left the apartment, as well.
He wasn’t in the living room or kitchen, and she didn’t bother to check any of the other rooms, not wanting a recurrence of their earlier argument. It was obvious he wasn’t in the mood for company.
Sitting at the table, Lindy spread out the classified section and read the apartment-for-rent advertisements once more.
Quite by accident she found a section she hadn’t thought to look at before: roommates wanted. She read a couple of those and decided to phone the one that looked the most promising.
“Hello,” she said brightly when the woman answered. “I’m calling about your ad in the paper.”
Rush walked into the kitchen, hesitated when he saw her and opened the refrigerator to take out a cold can of pop. Lindy strove to ignore him as much as possible. Her fingers gripped the pen unnecessarily hard as she doodled while the woman on the other end of the line explained a few of the details regarding her ad.
“It says here that you’re looking for a nonsmoker. I…I don’t smoke and I’ve recently moved into the area and need a place to live. I…have a job.”
“Lindy.”
Rush called her name, but she pretended she hadn’t heard him. Besides she was already involved in one conversation and if he chose to be rude that was his problem.
Undeterred, Rush waved his hand in front of her face. “Get off the phone.”
“Excuse me a minute please.” Lindy spoke to the woman, enunciating each word as she held her temper by a fragile thread. She pressed the receiver to her shoulder blade and glared up at Rush. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” she hissed between clenched teeth.
“There’s no need for you to find an apartment,” he told her, returning her heated stare.
“I beg your pardon, Rush Callaghan, but this is my life, and if I choose to leave this apartment, I’ll do so with or without your permission.”
Rush cursed beneath his breath and walked away from her.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” Lindy said sweetly into the telephone receiver. “Perhaps it would be best if we met?”
“Damn it, Lindy,” Rush shouted, twisting around to face her once more. “Will you kindly get off the phone so we can talk?”
He might as well have been speaking to a stone wall for all the attention Lindy paid him. “Yes, Tuesday afternoon would be fine.”
Rush’s returning glare was hot enough to peel thirty-year-old wallpaper off a wall, but still Lindy ignored him.
“You won’t be meeting whoever that is,” he told her sternly, looming over her. “You’re only wasting time.”
“Kindly excuse me again, would you?” Lindy asked softly, deliberately calm. She turned to Rush then and half rose from her chair. “Would you shut up? I can’t hear a word she’s saying.”
“Good.”
He was making Lindy more furious by the minute, and she tried to tell him as much and still keep control of her temper. “I’m sorry to keep interrupting our conversation,” she said to the woman on the phone.
Rush walked around the table a couple of times, looking like a man trapped in a small space—or a shark circling its kill. Finally he stopped, standing directly across from her. He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck as though to relieve an ache there, then paused and looked at her. “Lindy, I’m leaving.”
The words were nearly shouted. She hesitated and prayed for patience, and when that didn’t work, she counted to ten. Flippantly she raised her hand and waved goodbye. Still, he didn’t move.
“I’m twenty-two,” Lindy answered the woman’s question. “No…no you needn’t worry about that sort of thing. There isn’t anyone important in my life at the moment.” She swallowed tightly at the lie.
She exchanged a look with Rush and feared he was going to explode. “I thought you were leaving,” she whispered heatedly, cupping her hand over the mouthpiece. “Don’t let me stop you.”
“Not the apartment,” he raged, staring at her as though she were completely dense. “The Mitchell is sailing out.”
“I know…. In two weeks.”
“The catapults are being tested tomorrow and possibly Wednesday. If everything works out we’ll be gone by the beginning of next week.”
“The beginning of next week,” she echoed, hanging up the phone. She kept her hand on the receiver feeling numb with shock, numb with fear. “But you said it would be at least a month.”
“As I recall, I told you it could be as long as a month. As it happens, it’s only two, possibly three weeks.”
“Oh, Rush.” She turned to him, her eyes wide with a hundred emotions she didn’t know how to define. She’d accepted long ago that their time together was limited. But she’d counted on every minute of these remaining weeks. Needed them. Needed Rush.
“It shouldn’t come as any great surprise,” he told her, and pulled out a chair to sit across from her.
“It isn’t…. It’s just that…I don’t know.” Her stomach twisted into hard knots and for a painful moment she couldn’t breathe. She was stunned, and she felt Rush’s eyes slowly search her face. With everything in her, she met his gaze, determined to appear cool and composed. Her heart might be quivering with apprehension, but she’d die smiling before she’d allow him to know it. He’d already told her once that he didn’t want her clinging to him when he left. And she wouldn’t. She’d stand on the dock with a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye, and wave until her arm dropped off, but she’d never let him know it was killing her.
“About tonight,” he started again. “I didn’t mean any of what I said.”
He dropped his gaze, but not before Lindy saw a strange mixture of regret, desire and remorse. In the two weeks they’d been together, Lindy had thought she’d witnessed all Rush’s moods. She’d seen him at his cynical best, when he’d been purposely aloof and brash. She’d experienced his comfort, his tenderness as he held her in his arms while she sobbed against his chest. And she’d heard the music of his laughter, stood transfixed by his sometimes warm-heated, playful moods. Oh Lord, she was going to miss him. Miss everything about him.
“Lindy, I’m sorry for what I said.”
His hand reached for hers, rubbing warmth back into her chilled fingers. She shook her head, hoping that would suffice as acceptance of his apology.
They were silent for a moment, caught in the surging tide of their individual thoughts.
“I don’t have any right to ask you to wait six months for me.”
“I’ll wait,” she offered quietly. Lindy had no other choice.
“If you meet someone else…”
“Is that what you want?”
“No.” Anger flared briefly in his eyes. Then his expression changed to that cool, watchful look he wore so often. “No,” he repeated softly.
“That isn’t what you said earlier.” She tried to laugh, but the sound of her pain was carried in the mirth.
“I didn’t mean it. Not a word.”
“You don’t believe that I love you, do you?”
He waited a long time before he answered. “I don’t know. I think it’s too soon after Paul for you to know what you’re feeling.”
Lindy closed her eyes in an effort to control the urge to argue with him. She did love him, and never more than now. She’d just learned he’d be sailing out of her life for half a year, and her only thought was how she would manage without him.
She watched as a small pulse started in his temple. “I don’t want to leave you, Lindy.”
Her gaze shot to his, and her eyes widened with astonishment. Rush loved the sea. The navy was more than h
is career. It was his life, the very reason he got out of bed every morning. She’d listened for hours while he described for her the warm sensations that went through him when he was on the open seas. She’d felt his pride and exhilaration when he spoke of standing alone against the force of a fierce storm. He loved everything about navy life. It was his dream, just as the oceans of the world were his destiny.
And he didn’t want to leave her. What he felt for her was stronger than the lure of the sea.
Tears shimmered in her eyes and she bit hard on her lower lip to hold them at bay. Rush wouldn’t tell her he loved her—not with words. It would have been more than she could expect. But by admitting that he didn’t want to leave her, he said everything.
When Lindy had composed herself enough to look up at Rush again, she felt the tension in every line of his lovingly familiar face.
“I want you to stay at the apartment,” he said, and his hand continued to rub hers, holding her fingers in a grip that was almost painfully tight. “Steve will be back soon, but he’ll only be here a few weeks, if that long.
Lindy nodded.
“Then the place will be empty for months.”
Again she acknowledged his words with an abrupt movement of her head.
“It would be better if there was someone living here. As it is now, an empty apartment is an invitation to burglars. You’d actually be doing Steve and me a favor if you agree to say.”
“I’ll…I’ll want to start contributing toward the rent.”
“Fine. Whatever you want. When Steve arrives the two of you can work it out.”
“What about when Steve is here?” Lindy asked. “Where will I sleep?”
“He can have my room.”
“But what about when you’re both here?”
Rush frowned, and then a strange, almost humorous light entered his eyes and a soft smile crowded his face. “Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Anything else?” he asked.
She dropped her gaze to his hand, which was holding hers. “I love you, Rush, and I’m going to miss you like hell.”
He raised her hand to his lips, closed his eyes and kissed it gently.
* * *
The coffee was ready by the time Rush met Lindy in the kitchen the following morning. Although she’d been physically and mentally exhausted, she’d hardly slept, managing three, maybe four hours of rest at the most. Now her eyes burned and she felt on the verge of tears.
Rush joined her at the table. He wordlessly reached for the morning newspaper and buried his face in it, not speaking to her—apparently pretending she wasn’t there. Lindy stood it as long as she could.
“Would you like some breakfast?” she asked.
He shook his head. The stupid newspaper still presented a thin barrier between them.
Whereas Lindy had felt loved and reassured after their talk the night before, this morning she felt lonely and bereft. Rush hadn’t sailed away yet, but he might as well have for all the companionship he offered.
“I think I’ll get dressed now,” she whispered, hoping that would gain his attention.
“Fine.”
“Stop it, Rush.”
That worked, and he lowered the paper, peering at her over the top of the page, his face clean of expression. “Stop what?”
“That!” She pointed an accusing finger at the newspaper. “I hate it when you do this.”
“What hideous crime am I guilty of now?”
“You haven’t left yet…. I’d think you’d want to spend every minute you could with me…. Instead you’re hiding behind the Post-Intelligencer so you won’t have to look at me.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m not. It’s almost as if you can hardly wait to get away from me.”
With deliberately slow movements he folded the newspaper and set it aside. “Is it because I didn’t want any breakfast? Is that what’s upset you so much? You know I seldom eat this early.”
“No…of course that’s not it.”
“What is it then?”
“I…don’t know.” Lindy felt like such a fool. She didn’t know why she was acting like this, but she couldn’t stand it when Rush treated her this way. She could deal with his anger far more easily than this intolerable patience.
“What exactly do you want from me, Lindy?”
“I want some emotion,” she cried.
“What?” he barked, clearly not understanding her.
“Not tears. I want you to…oh, never mind. Go back to reading your precious paper with that same stoic expression you always wear in the morning. I humbly apologize for having interrupted your reading time.”
Lindy couldn’t get to her bedroom fast enough. She took small pleasure in slamming her door. Her intention had been to dress as quickly as she could and leave the apartment. Instead she found herself sitting on the edge of her bed, trembling and teary eyed, confused and suddenly feeling, utterly, desperately alone.
When her bedroom door flew open, Lindy gasped. Rush’s gaze pinned her to the bed as he silently stalked across the room.
“Damn it, Lindy.” The words were ground out through his teeth before he sank onto the bed beside her. His arms tightened around her trembling body, pressing her down against the mattress. His hands found and cupped her breasts as he buried his face in her hair, spreading a wildfire of kisses along her cheeks and face, but avoiding her lips.
All Rush had to do was touch her and the desire curled in her belly like an anchor rope ready to plunge her into dark, inviting depths of passion.
His fingers tightened on her shoulders as he raised his head and stared down at her. He looked as though he were trying to stop himself but couldn’t. Then his mouth closed hungrily over hers, rubbing back and forth, his tongue probing hers.
Lindy’s arms found his back and she arched her spine, grinding her hips against him, needing him so desperately she could barely breathe. The longer Rush kissed her, the deeper she sank into the turbulent waters of desire. She felt like she was drowning, oblivious to everything except the primitive need to be loved by Rush.
“Oh, Lindy….” The words came out softly as he lifted his head from hers. He paused and dragged in a heavy breath, held it a moment then expelled it. “Well,” he whispered, “is that enough emotion for you?”
Chapter 8
Lindy liked Susan Dwyer the minute the two met. Susan’s reddish-brown hair was naturally curly, and although it was styled fashionably short, it managed to fall in an unruly array surrounding her pert face. She possessed the largest, liveliest brown eyes that Lindy could ever remember seeing on anyone. They sparkled with intelligence and vitality, glinting with warmth and curiosity as they studied Lindy.
“Jeff has talked of little else since he met you the other day,” Susan confessed.
“It was certainly nice of you to invite Rush and me over for dinner,” Lindy returned. Twin boys, about eighteen months of age with reddish caps of curly hair like their mother’s stood at the edge of their playpen, silently regarding the two women through large, doleful brown eyes. They’d recently awakened from a late-afternoon nap and looked mournfully toward Susan in the hope that she’d abandon her dinner guests and play with them.
“A meal is a small price to pay to meet you.”
Lindy smiled at that. “I take it Rush hasn’t said much about me?”
“Are you kidding? He’s been so tight-mouthed one would think you were top-secret information.”
“That sounds like Rush.” Lindy’s gaze sought him out and found him and Jeff on the back patio, lighting up the barbecue grill. Just watching him gave her a solid, warm feeling deep inside her breast. She’d found him attractive before, but now, set against this low-key social background, dressed casually in jeans and a striped shirt, looking relaxed and at ease, she found she loved him all the more.
“Rush and Jeff have been friends a lot of years,” Susan went on to say. She
opened the refrigerator, brought out a large bowl of potato salad and set it on the kitchen counter. “Jeff knew the first day after the Mitchell returned that something had happened to Rush. He mentioned it to me right away, but it wasn’t until last week that he knew that Rush had found a special woman.”
“Rush is the one who’s special.” Lindy continued to study him, trying to put the knowledge that he’d be leaving out of her mind long enough to enjoy this one evening with his friends.
Susan turned around and her gaze followed Lindy’s. “He’s happier now than I can ever remember seeing him. More serene. You’ve been good for him, Lindy—really good. I didn’t used to like Rush…. Actually I was only reciprocating what he felt toward me. I think I may have reminded him of someone he knew a long time ago. Although Jeff’s never told me this, I believe Rush may have tried to talk him out of marrying me.”
“I’ve never known a man who can frown the way he does,” Lindy said with a soft sigh. “I swear one of those famous looks of his could curdle milk a block away.”
Susan hooted. “I know exactly the look you mean.”
“How long have you and Jeff been married?” From everything Rush had told Lindy about Susan, and he’d spoken of little else on the hour-long ferry ride to Bremerton, Rush held his friend’s wife in the highest regard. She was surprised to hear he’d once felt differently.