Ray blinked several times, his expression twisting in emotion as he turned quickly away from Rowdy and headed to the house. Pausing at the door, he turned back to his son and said, “Did I ever mention how proud of you I am, Boy?”
Rowdy snorted. “Stop calling me a boy, Pop. You’re going to kill my rep, you know.”
His throat tightened with emotion as well. He knew what his father was saying.
“I’m proud, Boy,” he muttered. “Damned proud.”
And Rowdy felt like a failure. He had failed to protect the only woman who had ever held his heart because he was too damned busy running from her. He should have been home, he should have been holding her in his bed, loving the hell out of her. If he had staked his claim, she wouldn’t have been in that damned apartment.
He breathed in roughly before turning to the door himself. His duffel bag was in his old room. Not that he stayed at the house much when he was home in the summers. He had thrown the bag in there for convenience; now he was going to have to collect it.
Rowdy jerked the door open, stalking into the house before coming to an abrupt stop. Kelly stood at the top of the landing, her face paper white, her long, damp hair hanging over that f**king shapeless T-shirt, her hands clenched in front of her.
Her lips were trembling, her eyes big and dark and filled with tears.
Rowdy glanced away, fighting for control before he turned back to her and began to walk steadily up the steps. The tears gathered in her eyes, until one dropped as she stepped back, allowing him to stand beside her.
God, he wanted to wipe that tear away, wanted to erase the shattered pain he saw in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice ragged. “I’m so sorry, Rowdy.”
“Why?” He asked the question softly, aware of her mother standing farther up the hall, his father in the entryway.
“I wasn’t careful—”
“No.” She flinched as he snapped the word out. “Don’t be sorry for that, baby. That wasn’t your fault.” His arms hung limply at his side, his own world lying broken at his feet, and he couldn’t even hold her. Couldn’t comfort her. It was ripping his guts to pieces. “I’ll be at the boat if you need me. I’ll always be here if you need me.”
And for now, that was all he could give her. Right now, it was all he had. He moved away from her, turning and stalking to his bedroom, ignoring Maria’s whispered “Douglas?” as he pushed the door open.
His duffel bag was still on his bed, unpacked.
“I’ll get the rest of my stuff later.” He picked up the Marine-issue bag and turned to face his father as the other man followed him into his room.
“Make sure you’re home for dinner,” Ray growled, his voice rough. “Don’t forget you have family here at the house too.”
Rowdy forced a smile to his lips as he jerked the duffel bag from the bed and headed to the door.
“Dinner for sure. Tomorrow.” He nodded. “I have things to do tonight.”
He paused outside the door, staring at Kelly where she stood on the landing, her eyes wide with pain.
“Come down to the boat whenever you need to,” he told her softly. “Anytime baby.”
He came back for her. He wasn’t hiding that, not from his father and not from her.
A glimmer of surprise filled her eyes as a little flush moved beneath her pale skin. At least she didn’t look terrorized anymore. It didn’t mean he had recovered though. Rage was eating a hole into his gut and pounding through his bloodstream with enough force to make him wonder exactly how good his control was now.
He wanted to kill the bastard who had hurt her. He wanted to wipe away the memory of her pain and fill it with pleasure. And until he got a handle on himself, he didn’t have a hope of doing either.
THREE
An hour later, Kelly pulled her car into the parking lot of the marina and stared out at the boats lined at the end of the docks. The Nauti Boys were all there. The Nauti Buoy, Nauti Dawg, and Nauti Dreams. She could see Rowdy on the upper deck, dressed in cutoffs, bare chested and looking like a sun god as he straightened and stared out at the parking lot.
She had to talk to him.
She laid her head on the steering wheel and closed her eyes as she felt her heart thumping erratically in her chest. Fear or excitement? Both, she admitted to herself.
The knowledge that he was back sent heat rushing through her even as fear shadowed the arousal. She was a virgin, but she wasn’t ignorant. She knew what the tension between her thighs was, and it was stronger than it had ever been. She grabbed her purse before opening the door and stepping out onto the parking lot. She looked around, feeling the snaking fear that always followed her when she left the house. Squaring her shoulders, Kelly turned and headed toward the docks. Her head lifted as her gaze locked on Rowdy. He was watching her, standing beneath the rays of a sun that lovingly painted his hard, muscular body. He made her breathing hard, made her mouth water and her hands shake with nerves.
Pulling her gaze away, she moved onto the floating walkway, heading for the back edge of the docks. There were half a dozen rows of docking slots on this quarter of the marina. They were the least expensive slots, and the farthest away from the marina’s office.
Rowdy’s, Dawg’s, and Natches’s boats were in the last three slots, and incidentally where the majority of the ducks tended to congregate. Dawg was notorious for feeding them throughout the day.
As she neared the Nauti Buoy, the sliding deck door opened and Rowdy stepped out. Dark gold flesh gleamed with sweat as he leaned against the doorway, his thumbs tucked into the pockets of his ragged cutoffs as he watched her.
“Permission to come aboard?” A nervous smile trembled on her lips.
“Always.” His deep voice raced across her nerve endings, sending frissons of heat to lick at her flesh.
He moved back into the interior of the houseboat, his lashes lowering over his brilliant eyes as he watched her.
Kelly stepped onto the small deck, trying to ignore the shaking in her knees as she crossed it and entered the main section of the craft.
She had known for four years that when he came home for good, he would claim her once and for all. She had waited for him like an immature child, weaving dreams and fantasies of what would happen when he came home at last. Somehow she had known that would be his last tour, despite his threats to reenlist. A year ago, she had felt it. Something had changed in him, the way he watched her, the tension that emanated from him whenever they were together.