Raising the Soldier's Son(4)

He threw back the rest of his beer. “Another?”

“Soda for me. Otherwise I won’t be fit to see Rosie,” he winked.

Kirk was already weaving his way through the dancing locals, towards the bar. Annabeth was on her own now. Though The Whistlestop was still busy, most of the crowd was nursing their drinks and wiggling their hips. Annabeth had even managed to shake her guard dog loose.

“Where’s Emma?” Kirk asked, his voice thick as he leaned forward. Up close, he could smell her. That same sweet blend of honeysuckles and gardenia.

“She had to make a call,” Annabeth responded without looking directly at him. Why did that infuriate him so much?

“She’s still following you around like you’re some kind of celebrity?”

Annabeth’s cheeks flushed at the unkind characterization. “She’s my best friend,” she retorted, lifting her eyes defiantly to his face now. “Don’t you dare trash talk her, Kirk Robinson.”

“I was simply observing that she’s always been your shadow.”

Annabeth’s eyes narrowed. “Some would call that loyalty. But I guess you’re not familiar with the concept, huh?”

Kirk dipped his head, silently acknowledging her hit. “I guess not.”

Annabeth couldn’t help it. She blurted out the question that had been seared in her mind all night. “How come you quit the Navy, anyway?”

Unfortunately, it was something Kirk was unequivocally not prepared to discuss. “How come you’re back in Clearview?” He countered, wondering if her lips had always been so perfectly bow-shaped.

Annabeth fingered the end of her hair. “I like Clearview,” she said simply, shrugging her slender shoulders.

“Time was you couldn’t wait to get out of here,” he reminded her, leaning further forward on the bar.

“Yeah. I guess I changed.”

“We both have,” he agreed, unable to take his eyes from her face.

She should have made up an excuse to move on. But she didn’t. Her feet were glued to the vinyl floor. “And so you’re running the family empire now.”

The family empire was a multi-billion dollar albatross about his neck. Still, he had to admit, the trials of the corporate world offered just enough distraction to get him through the days. “Someone’s got to do it.”

“What’s your dad doing these days?”

Kirk’s smile changed his face so completely that Annabeth almost gasped aloud. “Sailing. Apparently he thinks he’s earned his retirement. Despite the fact he was at the helm for less than a decade, you’d think he built it up from scratch, to hear him talk.”

Annabeth couldn’t help but laugh. She’d always liked Don and Mary Robinson, but Don was the proverbial wealthy heir of the South. All pomp, tennis whites and a complete confidence that doors would open for him wherever he went, because he had enough money to grease any hinges he desired. His father had been Governor, his grandfather had run the company and helped turn it into the market leader in high rise constructions.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah. I do, actually.”

Annabeth nodded, awkward suddenly. The past was like a huge chasm gulfing between them. Too big and dark and treacherous to cross. “Did you want something?”

Kirk slowly lowered his gaze, to the pulse that was beating frantically at her neck. “Yeah.” His eyes seared hers, leaving her in little doubt as to where his mind had gone. Damn it, he shouldn’t still have this ability to affect her.

“I meant to drink?” She clarified, busying herself wiping glasses, simply for something to do.

“A couple of sodas.”

“Sure.” She handed him the drinks without smiling. “Did you want to close your tab?”

His eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “Keen to see the back of me, Beth?”

The denial died on her lips. In its place, a shrug. “I’ve seen the back of you before. Guess I’m just used to you not being here.”

He leaned further forward. Their heads were now only separated by a matter of an inch or two. “Well, I’m here now, honey.”

Breathing was difficult. Beth felt her lungs straining with the exertion, as her blue eyes explored his face hungrily. His eyes, his nose, with the slight bump halfway down its length from a football accident in high school. His lips, firm and demanding, and his chin, covered in stubble that did nothing to hide the thumb-print cleft. “Not for long, though.” Her voice was just a fragile whisper.

He could kiss her. If he dipped his head slightly, his lips would be on hers. “Long enough.”

“Annabeth, a word, please?”

Annabeth blinked, as if waking from a daydream. She straightened, putting some distance between herself and Kirk. She looked around groggily, straight into Emma’s urgent brown eyes.

“Now,” her friend repeated, grabbing Annabeth’s elbow and squeezing it.

“Sure.” Annabeth’s voice was a husk, the smile she aimed in Kirk’s direction clearly showing her confusion at what had just happened.

“Hell, Beth, what are you thinking? You can’t let him get under your skin again.”

Annabeth nodded. Her throat was parched. “I know, I know.” She looked over to their table. Kirk was still watching her, his stare so intimate that it felt like a caress. “I just couldn’t help it. For a minute, it felt almost like old times.”

“Well, it isn’t old times,” Emma whispered crankily. “If you need reminding of why you have to steer clear of him, think of Wade.”

Annabeth squeezed her eyes shut, gripping the bar for support. “I know. I promise, Me, I don’t want anything from Kirk. My body’s just a bit behind my brain, that’s all.”

“Make sure you listen to your brain only, then.”

“I will.”

“Doc Dan wants to dance with you. Go. I’ll mind the bar ‘til Rina gets off her break.”

Emma fairly pushed Annabeth out from behind the bar. Truth be told, Emma loved the chance to get back into the hospitality swing of things. Tending bar was how she put herself through her photography course. Now she was one of the most sought after snappers in three counties, but working at The Whistlestop had been a time in her professional life that she’d relished.

“What’s up, Doc?” Annabeth asked, smiling easily as she approached the group of friends at the back of the room.

“Ah! The lady in question.” He put a casual arm around her shoulders. “Just getting the lowdown on who the new guy is,” he said, jerking his head towards Cam and Kirk.

Annabeth bit down on her lip. “Not new. Old.”

“Yeah, so I hear. Quite the hometown hero, according to these guys.”

“Sure was,” she agreed, her voice unsteady.

The strains of a slow Carrie Underwood song started up. “Come on. Tell me all about it while we hit the floor.”

She followed, trying to tell herself it was no big deal. Annabeth danced with her customers all the time. And often, with Dan. The fact that Kirk was watching her like a possessive hawk was too damned bad. She linked her fingers behind Dan’s neck, swaying in time to the lilting guitar.

“So he and you were an item?”

“You could say that,” she nodded, her eyes flicking back to Kirk. The accusation she saw in his face made her lose her footing.

“Why’d you end it?”

She sighed. “I didn’t.”

“He did?” Dan muttered something under his breath. “Why?”

“Never did find out,” she said, forcing a smile. She hoped she came off as breezy, as if it was just one of those things, rather than the cataclysmic heartbreak it had been.

“Muddy was saying you were engaged.”

“Yeah, Muddy’s right.” She looked straight into Dan’s eyes. “It was a short engagement.” Again, she sighed. “He enlisted straight out of school. Navy. We got engaged right before he was deployed. He broke it off about three or four months into his tour.”

“And you haven’t seen him since?”

“No.”

“Until tonight.”

“No.”

“Is he…” Dan stopped dancing, but kept his arms around Annabeth’s waist. “You never did tell me about Wade’s father. Is it… is it him?”

Annabeth closed her eyes. No one but Emma knew the truth. Not even Horace, her father. It had been easier to come home pregnant and miserable, and claim the baby to be the result of a college romance. Once Kirk had started sending her letters back, she’d known he would never be a part of her baby’s life. So what good was dragging his name through the mud? No way did she want her little boy to be known about town as the Robinson no one wanted.

“No,” she lied, but the word sounded discordant. She tried again, more forcefully. “No. He’s no one to me or Wade.”

“It’s just the timing…” Dan pushed.

“Hey, what are you, a detective?” She made a sort of laughing noise. “Come on. I thought you wanted to dance.”

He nodded slowly. “Just look after yourself, Annabeth. I’d hate seeing you get hurt.”

“Not going to happen, Doc. I’ve got one man in my life, and he’s about three feet tall.”