Her Only Chance. Cheryl Anne Porter
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Hampton just stared at her.
Jamie sobered. “Oh, God, I am so messed up. How could I get this far without knowing myself?”
Dr. Hampton relented, smiling. “I see this all the time at this stage, Jamie. We’re so busy learning and examining everyone but ourselves that we forget we’re human, too. I’m simply saying there’s something here worth exploring. Some unresolved feelings between the two of you. Do you agree?”
Jamie’s shoulders slumped with defeat. “Yes.” What choice did she have?
“Don’t look so glum, Jamie. You’ve made real progress in the past few weeks.”
“I suppose. I’m almost not against marriage anymore.”
Startled, Dr. Hampton sat forward in his chair. “That’s an odd conviction, Jamie, for someone who’s training to be a marriage and family counselor.”
Jamie started backpeddling before she lost more ground. “I’ll be a good counselor, Dr. Hampton. You know that. Just because something isn’t right for me doesn’t make it wrong for other people. I can separate the two.”
“Well, the only way we’ll know that for sure is for you to achieve a satisfactory resolution with Mr. Chance. In fact, I think your success in private practice depends on it.”
This was a disaster. Jamie exhaled slowly. She’d give anything if she could tell him the truth, that she wouldn’t be going into private practice. Then it struck her. It didn’t matter if she went into private practice or not. She’d still need the same skills, the same compassion, when she wrote her book because she’d still have patients, hopefully millions of them. Her readers.
Dr. Hampton was right. Facing Kell again would only make her a better therapist, a better author—a better person. Dammit. She brushed her hair back from her face. “So. Kellan Chance.”
Dr. Hampton nodded, seemingly a bit mollified. “Afraid so. But I don’t think it’s as dire as you believe.”
“Oh, it’s dire. I am the last person on earth Lieutenant-Commander Kellan Chance wants to see.”
“You’ve said as much. But isn’t he stationed here in Tampa at MacDill Air Force Base?” He flipped back through his notes. “Yes. Here it is—Special Operations Command, right?”
“Right,” Jamie grumbled. She knew how close Kellan was to her…geographically.
“Good. Because if you take care of things with Commander Chance promptly—then we might not have to delay your licensing for long.”
“Seriously?” Jamie perked up. “How long?” Maybe she could stall Highline Publishing. Maybe she could tell them her license was being processed. She could plead logjammed paperwork, delays at the post office, things like that.
“Well, how long depends on you. But I’m thinking maybe thirty days.”
Relief coursed through Jamie. Thirty days were so doable.
“I believe that since Mr. Chance lives here, all you need is opportunity.”
Jamie shook her head. “And more courage than I’ve ever had.” She could just see herself knocking on Kell’s door…after having told him, a year ago, that it was over forever between them. She could still see his stony expression that hid the hurt in his dark eyes. Guilt pushed aside her short-lived relief. She couldn’t play with Kell’s heart for her own gain. She had to be sincere in whatever she said or did. Or she’d never respect herself again. “So, all I have to do is get him to talk to me, just work out our issues? I mean, I don’t actually have to commit to anything with him, do I?”
“Oh no, no. We’re not in the business of forcing love. I wouldn’t counsel that. But, Jamie—is this something you can do? Do you feel safe, comfortable, in his presence?”
“Safe?” She thought of Kellan’s hawkish stare, his muscled body…the way his hands, his mouth, felt on her. She sighed. “Safe and comfortable are two things no one feels around Kell. He’s so intense. But in this context, yes, I’ll be fine. Despite his training and his occupation, he’s a very gentle man. Out at the base, the Special Ops guys are called the Quiet Professionals.”
“I see. That’s interesting—and good to hear. Because all I’m asking you to do is examine your own motives and feelings and then talk to him.”
“Talk to him,” she repeated. “This whole thing sounds as if I’m seeking forgiveness.”
Dr. Hampton’s expression softened. “You may be. But you won’t know until you talk to him.”
Just the thought of seeing Kell again had her stomach fluttering…with anticipation or dread, she couldn’t say. Heaving out a sigh, she met her professor’s waiting gaze. “So. I guess I have my marching orders.” She looked at the clock. Mercifully, her hour was up. Jamie stood and retrieved her purse. Dr. Hampton stood, too. “This isn’t going to be easy,” she remarked.
“I know. If it were easy, you wouldn’t have a problem.” With that, Dr. Hampton walked her to the door. “Try not to worry right now, Jamie. Get through graduation and enjoy your family’s visit. After they leave, we’ll talk again and go from there, okay?”
Jamie opened the office door and then turned to shake his hand. “Thank you…I guess.”
Dr. Hampton chuckled. “Jamie, you’re one of the finest doctoral candidates I’ve ever worked with. You’re infinitely qualified academically, and you’ll be fine. Trust me, this Kellan Chance thing is merely a hump you need to get over. One day you’ll look back on this and thank me—only sincerely.”
While pleased by his compliments—her flagging confidence really needed to hear them—Jamie just smiled. But she couldn’t help wondering if, once she walked back into Kellan Chance’s life, he would want to thank Dr. Hampton. Yeah, right. With a low-level air strike, maybe. Or a bouquet of bayonets.
2
MEANWHILE, and not too far away, on the secretive air force base situated on a spit of land that jutted out into Tampa Bay, Kellan Chance was learning his fate. And he was not a happy SEAL.
“I just don’t see any help for it, Lieutenant Commander,” General Halter was saying. “Your medical condition requires me to assign you thirty days R and R while we make a further review of the incident. While you’re on the mend, you’re free to come and go as you please. But I’d like you to stay in Tampa and make yourself available to the investigators.”
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.” No one had to tell Kell what his commanding officer meant by thirty days of rest and relaxation. He had, in essence, just been relieved of his command, wounded or not. Dressed in his battle fatigues in front of General Halter’s desk in the Special Operations Command headquarters building on MacDill Air Force Base, Kell knew he’d messed up. He’d been in charge of a mission in Eastern Europe that had gone sour.
It was the worst possible outcome. They’d been detected, had a face-to-face with the opposition, and in the ensuing fight, some of his men had suffered injuries. In fact, Jeff Camden, his second-in-command and Kell’s best friend, was still in the hospital in Frankfurt, Germany. Guilt ate at Kell. Still, he refused to blame the bad intelligence he’d received regarding their target. He had no one but him to blame. That was the way it worked. He knew the risks and had always accepted them. With rank came responsibility. He’d danced to the music, and now it was time to pay the piper. Hopefully, the price would not be his career. That loss of honor would be unthinkable.
“At ease, Commander. This isn’t an inquisition.”
“Yes, sir.” No less tense, Kell did as ordered. He stood straight, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze riveted to a point on the opposite wall.
“Look, Kell, why don’t you sit down and let’s talk, man to man?”