Navy Blue - A Second Chance Romance (Complete)

Navy Blue: Chapter 17

Emily finished her email to Griffin, outlining his orientation schedule for the week she'd be in New York and hit send. A slew of other emails awaited her attention but she couldn't concentrate.

Under the desk, her fingers tapped out the opening rhythm to the lullaby she'd played on the piano for Ben last night. The toddler had fallen asleep in mere minutes. She, on the other hand, hadn't caught a wink.

Her normally quiet mind vacillated between worry for her aunt's health, exhilaration mixed with shame over the kiss, and concern about confronting Finn today. No need for coffee this morning. Adrenaline coursed through her like a bull running through the streets of Pamplona in summer.

The unreadable look she had last seen on his face played on repeat in her mind. She didn't know what to make of it. Once there had been a time when she could read the slightest eyebrow twitch and instantly understand Finn's meaning. Not anymore.

Unlike the last time he'd disappeared without a word, at least knew she would see him again soon.

Not that she wanted to wait the few days until he was due to come back to her office for his final trial prep. The conversation with Beth planted a seed in Emily's heart and that weed didn't want to die.

First, she picked up the phone to call him, then realized, just as it had been eight years ago, she didn't have his phone number. Back then, he hadn't had a cell phone, and she'd had to rely on the number for the Waterfront Bar and Grill to contact him.

Today was different. His phone had sat on the conference room table the day she'd got caught in the rain. But now she had a different problem. He'd never given her the number.

Why would he?

At one point she had her shoes on and her car keys in her hand, ready to drive to the base and demand he speak to her. Enough was enough. However, in the time it took the elevator to arrive at the floor of her condo building, common sense had settled in.

There was a time and place, and she simply had to wait.

She was good at waiting. She had way too much practice.

Waiting at their old apartment, begging Finn to walk through the door. Waiting at clubs for her friends who met men they'd dance with, then date and fall in love with. Waiting for Lance to propose to Beth. Waiting for Mary to shake off the mantle of cruelty she'd donned. Waiting for her father to be a parent again. Waiting at her desk for news articles of Navy maneuvers and injured sailors.

Oh yes, Emily knew how to wait.

She'd instructed her assistant to bring Finn straight to her office when he arrived. A few stolen moments to clear the air before they made their way to the conference room where Lance was set up for a mock court-martial to walk Finn through his questions.

A light knock on her door caused her heart to leap into her throat. "Ms. Montgomery. I have Petty Officer Wainwright for you."

Her toe stubbed against the leg of her desk in her rush to stand. "Ah, yes. Thank you." The pain in her foot overshadowed the butterflies in her stomach.

Finn's tall frame strode into the office like a guard on duty, back ramrod straight, his chin lifting. Once again dressed in his formal blues, he was very much the Navy man today. Gone was the flannel shirt she'd clung to as she dragged him down to her lips.

Emily's throat tightened at the memory. Followed by her chest and her thighs. This was not a good start. "How are you?" That was not what she'd rehearsed, but the hard line of this mouth, which she'd tried not to stare at, spiked her concern.

The granite in his face softened, and his gaze met hers. "Well." There wasn't enough information in that one word to determine its true meaning. Frustration kicked at her and she clasped her hands behind her back to keep from beating on his chest and screaming, let me in. "How's your aunt?"

"Well... as well." Apparently, they were going down the small talk route instead of taking the on-ramp to the freeway to discussing the kiss. "She's regained consciousness. Despite a nasty headache, she seems to be enjoying her stay at the hospital, ordering the nurses around. We're all rotating shifts to keep her company. And protect the peace. I have the evening shift tonight."

She couldn't seem to stop talking. Perhaps it was the way Finn's lips had started to curl as she babbled. He'd barely smiled since coming back into her life, and she'd forgotten how the small gesture altered his appearance. Hard lines sank into the turned up corners and the man before her began to resemble the seventeen-year-old boy she gave her heart to.

The tympani section beating in her chest eased to a slow, low drum roll.

"Your aunt is lucky to have you." A flicker of something crossed Finn's face, and the burgeoning smile collapsed.

Perhaps it was the loss of the lightness of the moment or perhaps her desperation got the better of her, but an apology spilled out. "I'm sorry about the kiss."

A mask fell over Finn, his expression frozen, all traces of the jovial man gone. His lack of emotion combined with a lack of reaction and comment spurred her to fill the silence.

"It meant..." She couldn't lie and say the moment they shared, the first time in eight years she felt something other than misery, meant nothing. "It was inappropriate of me. I should never have put you in that position."

Finn didn't so much as blink. She wasn't sure he was even breathing.

Symbols crashed. Drums pounded. There was no argument from him, no fight, no attempt to convince her otherwise. No comment on what the kiss meant to him. Because Beth was wrong. It meant nothing.

She flexed her aching fingers, releasing them from the pinched grip she had on them. "It won't happen again. I promise."

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "Okay."

The confirmation sliced through her. That was it. It was over.

Emily twisted toward the desk and picked up her laptop. Hugging it to her chest, she moved to the door. "Lance is in the conference room." Without looking back, she strode down the hall.

In the conference room, Emily sank into the closest chair, her limbs weak from exhaustion. The worry last night had been for nothing. Back to her regularly scheduled life.

"Wainwright. About time." Lance shook Finn's hand and pointed to a seat across the table. "You didn't answer my text. Thought you might be avoiding me."

"Never." Finn folded himself into a chair.

"Emily." At the mention of her name, she looked up. "Can you convince the good Petty Officer here to come to Ben's birthday party?"

She met Finn's stare, another unreadable expression gracing the face highlighted by the morning sun streaming through the window. "Yes. You should come."

His eyebrows pinched. "You want me there?"

At least it was more than one word. "If Lance wants you there, then, of course."

Finn's gaze flickered to Lance and then Emily. The muscle in his jaw ticked again. "He's Ben's father?"

"Proud papa right here." Lance puffed out his chest and beamed. "Another on the way, too." He put his arm on the back of her chair. "I'm one lucky man."

Except for explaining the accident, Finn returned to his one word utterances for the rest of the day.