Mary lowered her chin and cast her gaze to the side.
He’d embarrassed her. One glance around the room proved it. A lot of people watched them and smiled at them. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to call attention to you.”
“It’s all right.” She looked up at him, her eyes warm. “That was fun.”
“I’ll restrain my exuberance from now on.”
“Please don’t. I—your exuberance is part of who you are.”
Exuberant like a giant puppy. Ladies cooed over puppies and patted them on the head, but Jim didn’t want a pat on the head. Not this time, not from Mary.
As he glided her around the dance floor, other men gave her appreciative looks. Mary was a gem. Why had he taken so long to notice? She didn’t dazzle like Quintessa, but she had a soft glow from within. Now that she’d caught his eye, she’d caught it indeed.
If only he could catch her eye and then capture her heart.
He gazed down at her hair rolled back from her forehead, pulled up on the sides in sparkly clips, and falling in dark waves to her shoulders. Begging to be touched.
All those years, she’d been right under his nose and he hadn’t bothered to notice. Now she was in his arms, and he didn’t want to let go.
15
Monday, June 16, 1941
Mary turned the corner and paused in the hallway, her breath bundled up inside her. Outside Agent Sheffield’s office, Jim leaned against the wall, gazing the other way toward the main entrance. He wore his dress blues, his hands in his trouser pockets, his long legs crossed at the ankle, his raincoat tucked under one arm.
He cut such a dashing figure—dashing her hopes that her crush would die a quick death. At the Totem Pole Ballroom he’d acted oddly enough to fan her dream that he might return her affections, but on Sunday morning at church, he’d been perfectly normal.
Raindrops beat on the window of the main door. This weather wouldn’t help the workers get theAtwoodrepaired so the ship could spirit her assistant gunnery officer back to sea where he belonged.
In the meantime, she had a job to do and a façade to maintain. She stood tall and headed down the hallway.
Jim turned to her, grinned, and pushed off from the wall. “Good morning.”
“Good morning. You know, you don’t have to do this.”
“I want to. I’ll let you do the talking, I promise. But he knows me from my lengthy interrogation. He likes me, and I think he’ll accept your ideas better if I show respect for you.”
“You mean he’ll be less likely to call this my pretty little Nancy Drew notebook?” She patted the notebook in her arms.
Jim grimaced. “He said that?”
Mary pressed a finger to her lips. “Shh. He’s partly right.”
“We men can be dolts.” He held open the door for her.
Why did she long to pat his cheek and tell him what a darling dolt he was? Mary entered the office and hung her raincoat and umbrella on the coatrack.
Agent Sheffield stood beside his desk, pulling papers out of a cardboard box. At another desk against the wall, a large dark-haired man in a charcoal gray suit did likewise. Sheffield gave Mary a wry look. “I thought you might be back.”
Time to be brave. “I thought you might summon me.”
“Ensign Avery.” The FBI agent stepped forward and shook Jim’s hand. “Are you acquainted with this young lady?”
“Yes, sir. We went to high school together.”
“Please have a seat.” Agent Sheffield motioned to one chair and pulled a second from the corner. “May I introduce my partner, Agent Walter Hayes?”
The younger man shook hands, quiet and dark and brooding, looking far more the part of an FBI agent than his slight, rumpled, light-haired partner.
