Coast Guard Courtship. Lisa Carter
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college student, Braeden surmised from the Virginia Tech hoodie.
“The smart one.”
He frowned at Amelia.
“You’ve met Honey. She was in elementary school when Mom died of ovarian cancer.”
Braeden winced. A slow, painful death.
“Honey’s the baby, and there’s me.” She veered toward the kitchen. “I’ll dish out the stew.”
Braeden caught hold of her wrist. “Which are you?”
She tilted her head. “I showed you. Between Caroline and Honey.”
Braeden ran his thumb over her cheek.
Her blue-green eyes widened.
As deep and fathomless as the Great Machipongo Inlet.
Deep enough for a man to drown?
He lifted her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Which are you? The talented one? The strong one?”
She quivered and stepped out of his reach. “Just Amelia. I’m just me.”
The one who’d made a career of sacrificing everything for her family.
Something tore inside his chest. Braeden hunched his shoulders.
Amelia Duer. His exact emotional polar opposite. Since his dad’s death and his fiancée’s betrayal, he’d made a career out of not getting involved with anyone outside the line of duty.
Especially not with redheads like Carly.
Or Amelia Duer.
She called from the kitchen. “Coffee or sweet tea?”
“Tea, please.” He followed her into the cheery yellow-and-white-tiled kitchen. “I get enough coffee when I’m on watch to float a battleship. Can I help?”
She signaled toward a drawer. “Spoons.”
Amelia ladled the stew into blue crockery bowls, steam rising. “As far as the tea goes, since you hail from Alaska, I think it only fair to remind you that you’re in the South.” She placed the bowl on top of a yellow place mat.
“How’d you know I was born in Alaska?”
Amelia’s mouth opened in an O. Closing it with a snap, she gripped the handle of a glass pitcher.
She’d taken the time—amid getting Max into bed for a nap—to look him up.
He grinned as red—a lovely color on her—crept up her neck.
She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “It’s sweet.”
He dragged his attention from his contemplation of her pink-tinted lips to her sea-flecked eyes. “What is?”
She shoved the pitcher into his hands. “The tea. Real sweet, if you think you can stand it.”
Their fingers brushed. His heart jackhammered. She recoiled as if she’d been stung.
Braeden decided to crank up his flirting another notch. Just to see if her skin could approximate the color of her hair. For scientific purposes, of course.
He smacked his lips. “The sweeter the better.”
And laughed when her color went off the charts.
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