Rachel laughed softly. “Oh, okay. Well, I’m asking your mother for the recipe when she gets home, and don’t try to stop me.”
Jamie grinned. “Good luck with that. Like I said, it’s a family secret, so you’ll have to marry me if you want it.”
Rachel pretended dismay. “Is that a proposal?”
Jamie looked sharply at her, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Would you accept?”
For a moment, he saw something in her eyes that made him believe she was going to say yes. Then she took a hasty sip of her coffee, avoiding his eyes. “I’m too old for you.”
Jamie barely suppressed a scoffing sound of disgust. “What are you, thirty-two?”
“I just turned thirty-three.”
“So? Big deal.” He let his gaze travel slowly over her. “Look at you—you’re in better shape than most women in their twenties.”
Rachel slid him a tolerant look. “Thanks.”
Jamie shrugged and forced himself to continue eating. The topic intrigued him, since he suspected Rachel had a huge chip on her shoulder about her age. In his opinion, thirty-three was still young. He wanted to convince her their age difference didn’t matter to him, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate hearing that.
“You act as if you’re over the hill,” he said. “Haven’t you heard thirty is the new twenty?”
“That makes you about thirteen, then,” she retorted, but she smiled as she said it, taking the sting out of the words.
“Hey, how’s Dylan doing these days?” he asked, thinking it might be wise to change the subject.
“He’s doing fine, from what I understand,” she replied. “I haven’t seen him recently, but he’s been battling a wildfire in Idaho for a couple of weeks now.”
“I’m hoping I have a chance to see him before I return to duty.”
Rachel gaped at him. “You’re actually going back?”
Jamie lowered his fork. “Of course. It’s my job.”
“But why can’t you find another job?” she persisted. “Maybe one where crazy people aren’t dropping bombs on your head?”
Jamie carefully wiped his mouth. “I’ve wanted to be a Marine since I was a kid.” How could he explain it to her so she would understand? “Those guys and gals in my unit are my family. I can’t just turn and walk away, Rachel.”
He could see the distress in her dark eyes. “But what about your leg? Will they even let you come back?”
“Hmm. That could be a problem,” he admitted.
His leg had been crushed. He’d had four different surgeries on the leg alone. He’d lain in a Bethesda hospital bed for nearly a month with an external fixator on his leg. More than a dozen screws had been attached to his broken bones through small incisions in the skin and muscle, attached to a metal frame on the outside of his leg. The contraption had looked like a mad scientist’s bad experiment. Once the bones had stabilized, they’d removed the external frame, and had put the leg in a cast. He still had plates and screws attached to the bones themselves. He hoped to regain enough strength in the limb to resume his duties, but nothing was certain.
“Couldn’t you ask for a job where you don’t have to deploy?” Rachel asked.
“Like a desk job?” He couldn’t keep the derision out of his voice. “I’d rather be dead than be cooped up in some office every day.”
Rachel’s expression grew shuttered, and she abruptly pushed her chair back. “I’m not hungry anymore. Why don’t I clear the dishes?”
“Rachel—”
Damn. He’d upset her.
She picked up her plate and made to move past him, but he caught her wrist and drew her to a stop. She didn’t look at him, but neither did she protest when he took the plate from her and set it back on the table, and then drew her down onto his good leg.
“Jamie,” she protested softly. “Your leg…”
“Shh. It’s fine,” he assured her. “I want you to stop worrying about me, okay?”
She bowed her head. She was so close, her breath was a soft puff of warmth against his cheek. He slid a hand beneath the heavy fall of dark hair and lightly cupped her face, letting his fingers trace the delicate contours of her jaw, her ear, her neck. Her breath caught, and it took no more than a slight tilt of his head to press his mouth gently against hers.
She stilled, and her body went rigid. Then she gave a soft exhalation, and her lips moved tentatively against his, returning his kiss. She tasted like sweet orange juice. She leaned in to him, and one hand crept to his shoulder, and then curled around his neck. Jamie made a sound of approval and angled his head for better access.