Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

When Amanda changed the subject from Mark's deployment, he didn't complain. He didn't want to think about what was coming—and what he'd be leaving behind.

He'd known since the morning of September eleventh that he'd be sent overseas. Even before the second plane hit, before it was a confirmed terrorist attack, he'd known he was destined for battle. He'd known the same way he'd known, when he was a kid, that he was meant to be a Marine.

And not for one second had he been sorry he'd followed the path he was on. He'd looked forward to it, in fact. Maybe foolishly, maybe stupidly, he'd looked forward to putting his training to the test.

He'd never had a single reservation. Until today.

Spending time with Amanda, this beautiful, amazing woman he would never have met—maybe should never have met—if not for the strangest of circumstances.

But he discarded that idea. Of course he was supposed to meet Amanda. The same knowing that had prompted Mark to join the Marines had led him to save her life two nights before.

Which told him that there was a plan—a plan much bigger than he could comprehend. And if there was a plan, then there had to be a Planner. Mark had always believed in God in sort of an out there kind of way. But maybe God was more involved in people's everyday lives than Mark had ever realized.

Maybe he ought to figure out what else God had in store.

But today was for savoring his short time with Amanda.

Hand in hand, they wandered in and out of stores, not really shopping, just talking, sharing stories and histories and dreams. Asking a million questions and laughing and just…being together. Somehow, it was as if they'd always known each other.

They found a restaurant and ate dinner, then moved into the bar, where he nursed a beer while she sipped Diet Coke.

She was in the middle of a story about her older brother when she hid a yawn behind her hand.

He glanced at his watch—just after nine o'clock. "You haven't been sleeping well." Considering a stalker had followed her two days before, it seemed like a good guess. Especially since she'd told him her roommate was gone for the weekend.

"I'm fine." She sat up straighter as if trying to prove she wasn't sleepy.

"I haven't slept well, either." He gripped his empty glass, seeing her stalker, wishing he'd taken his chances and called the police. At least they'd have the little rat's name. Maybe he'd move on from her. "If I hadn't seen him follow you… If I'd been distracted for ten seconds…"

Amanda slid her fingers around Mark's hands and. "You did see, though. I'm safe."

He managed a smile, but visions of her stalker were burned into his brain. How much worse must it be for her?

Maybe Carl would protect her.

That wrenching thing in his stomach was back.

They talked until the server dropped their bill and told them it was closing time.

Five minutes after they got on the road, Amanda rested her head against his shoulder and fell asleep. He hadn't so much as twitched in twenty minutes.

He pulled onto her street and parked in front of the fire hydrant, the only available spot, thinking she'd wake up when the car stopped. She didn't, though. Even after he shifted, resting her head against the armrest, she continued to sleep. He watched her a few moments, mesmerized by how beautiful she was. How trusting.

He slipped out of the car, closed the door as quietly as he could, and walked around to the passenger side, where he opened her door and crouched beside her.

"Amanda?"

She stirred.

"You're home."

Her eyes opened, and she smiled. Then the smile faded. "I fell asleep? Oh, no. I wasted all that time. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." He stroked her hair. "You were exhausted. Come on."

Mark helped her onto the sidewalk. "You have the bag I gave you?"

"In my purse." At the bottom of the steps leading to the door to her building, she faced him, grabbing his other hand. "You're coming upstairs, right? For dessert?"

Desire flared inside him, and he stepped back. "That's not a good idea."

Her head tilted to the side. She looked confused and hurt, blinking those pretty blue eyes. "Why not?"

"I'd love to. I mean, I'd really… You have no idea. But you'd regret it in the morning. Or, after, you know?" He sounded like an idiot, but surely, she understood what he was saying. "I don't want to leave you with that. That's the last thing I want for you."

Her eyes widened, and even in the faded glow of the streetlights, he could see her face redden. "No, I meant… I have some leftover cheesecake."

"Oh." He blew out a breath, stepped toward her again, and rested his forehead on hers. "Oh. Wow. Okay." He chuckled. "You're so innocent. You should know, for next time, that when you invite a guy up to your room this late, he's not thinking about cheesecake."

"That's good to know." She backed away and looked up at him, her lips lifting at the corners. But the smile faded. "What do you mean, next time?"

"I'm going to be gone for a long time, Amanda. You might change your mind."

"I'm a very patient person. I can handle it."

"You shouldn't have to, though. When I come home"—if I come home—"we can see how we both feel. But until then?—"

"Are you going to be dating other women?" She gave him a look—eyebrows hiked, chin lowered, that told him she already knew the answer.

"That's different. I dated a lot when I was in college. You should too."

"I don't want to, and you can't make me." The tone—half petulant, half joking—made him smile.

"You're very stubborn."

She stepped into his space and laid her hands on his chest. "Said the pot to the kettle."

He used to be stubborn. He'd been rejecting women for years, women a lot stronger and more forward than this one.

He should end this with Amanda right now. It would be the kinder thing to do.

But to know that while he fought, she would be waiting for him? What better incentive could he have to come home?

Her hands slid around his neck, and he surrendered to her. Surrendered to everything he'd never admitted he always wanted.

He bent low and took her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers. He was careful, gentle, and their kiss was warm and slow, as if they had all the time in the world.

As if he weren't going off to war. As if his life wouldn't be on the line.

It was full of promises he'd never planned to make, not to Amanda or any woman. She was kind and gentle, melting in his arms, trusting him. Trusting him to be true to her. Trusting him to protect her.

Too soon, she ended the kiss, gazing up at him with almost…reverence in her eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." He cleared the hoarseness from his voice and stepped away, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to cool himself down.

"Are you sure you don't want to come in?"

"Yes." He spoke too quickly, earning a little giggle.

Oh, she shouldn't giggle like that. This was hard enough already.

He looked up at the building. No way he should walk her to her door, but he didn't want to leave until he knew she was safe, either. "Is your apartment in the front?"

"Yeah."

"Which one?"

"Third floor." She pointed at a bay window.

"When you're inside, safe and sound with the door locked behind you, wave to me, okay?"

She stepped forward and rested her hand on his chest. "Why don't you just walk me up?"

"You know why."

"Cheesecake?"

"Yeah." His lips tipped up in a smile. "Cheesecake."

She lingered there a long moment. Then she climbed the steps and went inside.

A minute later, she appeared in the bay window and waved.

Mark lifted his hand, then settled in his car, satisfied that she was safe, and cursed himself for a fool.

He'd done the one thing he'd sworn he'd never do. He'd fallen in love.

As much as he wanted to be angry with himself, he knew he was smiling as he drove away.