Her blood roared. Possessiveness of him, adoration of him swamped her. As did the delicious scent and taste and feel of him.
It was the first time they kissed, and it was—by light-years—the best kiss of her life.
They’d held hands the rest of the way to her apartment. At the front door of her building, he’d asked again if she’d go out with him. She’d told him she’d consider it with great seriousness.
Penelope poured the iced tea into a huge glass of ice and sat at her small kitchen table illuminated by a slant of sunlight. Roy jumped onto her lap and provided a cat massage by kneading her thigh. Sighing, she drank half the glass in one long pull.
The day after she’d kissed Eli, she’d floated through her duties at the pie truck on leftover adrenaline. She’d been fairly certain that, in Eli, she’d found the man who’d make the setting aside of her long-held, well-known rule worthwhile.
Then one of her regulars had arrived at Polka-Dot Apron Pies with an appetite and news. Jodi was in her early forties and had been married to Chris, Eli’s squadron boss, for twenty years.
“I’m hoping to get Chris out here for one last slice of pecan pie before they go,” Jodi said to Penelope.
Foreboding skittered between Penelope’s shoulder blades. “Go?”
“To Syria.”
“Hmm?”
“The squadron’s leaving for Syria in three days. Sorry, I thought I’d mentioned it.”
Eliwas leaving for Syria in three days? “When...” With effort, she cleared her throat. “When did the squadron find out that they’re deploying?”
“A few months back.”
Standing in her pie truck, looking into Jodi’s kindly face, the other shoe had, at last, dropped. But she didn’t feel like crowing, “Ah-ha! I knew that dating you would be a terrible idea!” because she was so wretchedly disappointed.
Instead of finding out from the man she’d just kissed that he was departing for Syria, she’d found out from a customer.
She’d given herself the rest of that workday to gather her composure, then called Eli as soon as she’d returned to her apartment. Pacing, she listened to the phone ring.
“Hey,” he said warmly. “I’m glad you called, I was just thinking about you—”
“Jodi told me that you’re leaving for Syria in three days.”
Silence.
“Is that true?” she pressed.
“Yeah,” he admitted after a few more seconds had passed. “Look, I should have said something sooner.”
“I really would have appreciated it if you had.” She’d thought she had her temper under control. But now the sound of his voice was stirring her anger the way hurricane winds stir deep ocean. “As it is, you didn’t give me full information and so I feel, well... tricked into last night’s kiss.”
“I didn’t trick you.”
“Didn’t you? You weren’t truthful with me.”
“I was going to tell you myself, my own way. I’m sorry. Let me take you out for dinner. We can—”
“No.” She spoke calmly, but also emphatically. For the first time ever, she’d made an exception to her rule. For him. And now this!
She wanted to kill him. But only hypothetically. There was nothing hypothetical about the dangers he’d be facing overseas. This was likely the last communication they’d have before he shipped off to a war zone. Her conscience wouldn’t allow her to unleash her indignation on him at this point because... what if something happened to him? “You’re headed to Syria and that’s going to require all of your focus.”
“But not every minute of my time. We can keep in touch by email and occasionally by phone while I’m gone.”
“I’d prefer not to.”
“Why?”
