Page 42 of Ford
“Yeah. I saw him in Russia, two years ago. He was playing in the International Ice Hockey Federation national championship here in Moscow.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. He was having a party. We…caught up, but…it would never work out between us. He has a big life. I live in a one room flat. He has fans around the world. I wear the same clothes for a week. I don’t fit in to his life.”
“Coco—”
“No, it is what it is. And I know that. I just want him to be happy.”
But a tear cut down her cheek. She wiped it away. “If you see him, tell him…” She offered a smile. “Tell him that I wish him well.”
Oh, her sister wished for more than that, so RJ reached out and drew Coco to herself.
“Tell your mother that I think of her every time I make applesauce cake.”
“And good cake it is.”
York picked right then to emerge from the bathroom. He was bare-chested, his dark blond hair spiked up, still wet, water glistening on the dark hairs of his chest, his jeans low on his hips. A towel hung around his neck. He stood there a moment, watching the women embrace, then turned and walked down the hall, lifting the towel to dry his hair.
RJ let her go.
“Oh my,” Coco said. “Those shoulders.”
Mmmhmm. Except—she turned to Coco. “Is there something between—”
“No. Definitely not.” Coco held up her hands in surrender. “He’s all yours, sis. Have fun.”
Oh yes, this was going to be a blast.
All her life Scarlett had dreamed of adventure. And sure, sailing the ocean blue, disembarking in places like Bahrain, Spain, and even Norfolk sounded exciting, but all of that had been spent testing radio communications, getting supplies from the base, and maybe finding a place to eat off base that didn’t give her food poisoning.
Her best adventures she lived vicariously through Ford, experienced through his ops, all of which she’d only been privy to through the drone screen.
Which meant that none of those ever included seeing a castle outside her hotel window.
Acastle.
It sat on a hill above the city of Prague, with medieval, Gothic spires that should probably have a dragon clutching one of the black-hatted turrets. Below the castle, the hill was dotted with red-roofed buildings all the way to a wide, glistening river. And over that river arched ancient cobblestone bridges clogged with watercolorists and photographers and flower vendors and…
The place felt like romance.
It didn’t help that Ford had changed into a very unobtrusive black T-shirt, faded jeans, and hiking boots, trying to blend as they walked the city this morning to stave off jet lag.
As if. The man walked with a confidence that radiated military if not spec ops, and just being around him made her wonder why he’d needed her.
Maybe she didn’t want to know. It was enough to savor his words, let them settle deep with the memory of his eyes searching hers as he delivered his deliciously lethal sentence.
Scarlett, I…I need you.
Yeah, she was a goner, right there. So, yes, when he put it that way, of course she’d drop everything and dash over the ocean with him. Why not?
Frankly, what else was she going to do? She still had two weeks of personal emergency leave, and her separation papers were sitting on her table at home, and this might be her last real adventure before…well, she hadn’t a clue what she might do in the civilian world.
Wait tables, maybe.
Scarlett turned away from the window where it looked out over a cobblestone square. The gorgeous cathedral sat on a hill a stone’s throw away, and in the square below, a carriage drawn by a horse waited for her as if she might be Cinderella.
She felt like it.