But she wouldn't say it was her life anymore, not like Gray's military career. "Can I ask you something?"


"Like you've ever held back before."


"Good point." She chewed on her bottom lip, caught his transfixed stare on her mouth and stopped nibbling before they ended up in a ditch. "All that talk about the military being in your blood, I hear you. But why not just serve as a doctor? Why do you put your body through all this? We've spent less that two weeks together, and you've taken a leg full of shrapnel and had the air sucked out of your body."


His calf flexed. "I thought about getting out."


"You did?"


"Right after Desert Storm. I worried I might turn into my old man and decided to try med school. I'd considered it before, but flying tugged me, too. Confused the hell out of me sometimes when I was growing up." He spiked a hand through his hair, all the combing his short cut needed. "Six months into med school, I knew it wasn't going to work. Not the way I'd planned. Med school was the right choice. But not civilian life."


The Explorer wove a winding path through the clusters of condos—thatched wooden buildings shaded by towering oaks and hanging Spanish moss. Sunlight dappled a Hansel and Gretel breadcrumb-like trail alongside the road. What a beautiful place to call home. "Okay, so you're not getting out of the military. But plenty of other guys can fly that plane. You don't have to do everything. You're a doctor, Gray. Why not make your mark in the service that way?"


"There's the fundamental difference in the way we military people think. Every one of us honestly believes we can make a specific difference or we would have gotten out long ago. Just as I have to be a doctor, I have to fly." In front of his parents' condo, he slid the car into park. Gray released the steering wheel and flipped his hands over. "Could another set of hands have gotten Magda out of Sentavo? Maybe. But maybe not. It doesn't really matter, since knowing won't change a thing. This is what I do."


The intensity in his eyes scared her. Fascinated her. How could she not admire him? Want him.


Her hand reached up to his jaw, and she allowed her fingers the pleasure of caressing his beard-stubbled face. Just as she considered tracing his bottom lip…


Magda flung her Happy Meal toy on the floor. Lori blinked away the moment.


She twisted to retrieve the toy, pausing to straighten Magda's strawberry jumper and blow a kiss. Seeing Magda so happy and excited, Lori couldn't regret joining Gray for the day. The little girl deserved so much more from life than she'd seen so far.


Lori spun back around as Gray's family poured from the front door like water from an emptying aqueduct—a younger, heavier-set version of himself, his mother and his lanky sister, along with in-laws, nieces, nephews…


She lost count as they gushed down the steps. Envy nipped her, followed by a hefty bite of anger. She would have traded a hundred Barbie house dreams to spend an afternoon in a family like this.


Realization tingled over her as she wondered if she hadn't done just that.


* * *


Lori tapped her toe on the porch, launching the swing in motion. She cradled Magda in her lap, the gentle rocking as soothing for Lori as the child.


An ocean breeze bowed the rushes along the marshy coastline, then detoured through the lower deck screened-in porch. The precious perfume of baby shampoo and sunshine twined around her.


She'd had an awesome day.


Damn.


Every minute had been exactly as she would have wanted—if Gray had brought her to his parents' home a year ago as a precursor to a proposal.


Instead he'd brought her to say goodbye.


Irritability swept away her contentment. Maybe she could bang around some dirty pots in the kitchen. Lori turned to Angela seated at a rattan table with a glass of milk. "I feel guilty sitting out here while they're doing the dishes."


"Fair's fair. We cooked. They clean. They're probably almost done, anyway. Just enjoy holding Magda. They grow up too fast." Angela sipped, bracelet jingling as replaced the glass. "Thank you for coming today."


"Thank you for including us."


"That's not quite what I meant, dear."


"I know."


Footsteps hammered on the overhead deck as the men and children thundered down the wooden plank steps, fanning out onto the yard. Gray tossed a football underhanded to his brother as they divided into teams along the shore.


Magda squirmed in Lori's lap. "Doc!" she squealed and pointed. "Doc!"


Gray turned, smiled and gestured for Magda to join them. "Send her on out. I'll watch her."


Lori eased Magda to the ground and walked her across the porch, the sticky hand so dear clutching hers. Lori nodded, pushing the door open. "Go ahead, sweetie."


Magda bolted forward, arms pumping, her strawberry jumper a blur as she sprinted toward Gray. "Doc!"


"Hey, Miss Magpie. Come be on my team." He tied a bandanna around Magda's head and dubbed her his copilot. Game calls, teasing shouts and laughter drifted through the screens.


Lori sank back to the swing, wrapping her arms around her waist, her lap too empty. "It's so idyllic here."


"I'm a lucky woman."


"Yes, you are."


Angela nudged her milk away and fished a roll of antacid tablets from her pocket. Absently she thumbed one free and popped it in her mouth. "But it wasn't all luck. I've worked hard."


Ah, finally the other shoe drops. She'd wondered when Angela would weave in her bid for a new daughter-in-law. "Of course you have. Relationships are work."


More than even she could tackle. She'd worked like crazy to earn Gray's love a year ago, just as she'd worked to gain her parents' attention, and it still hadn't changed a thing. Of course she knew him better now. Should she have worked harder to understand him then rather than simply judging?


Angela rolled the pack of tablets between her fingers as she stared out over her family. "There were times I wasn't sure we could hold it all together, but we did. I'm very proud of that."


Gray launched into the air, catching the football. Ball tucked to his chest, he snagged Magda under the other arm. He ran, the little girl squealing as her bandanna-covered head bobbed with each jostling step. His powerful legs pumped, those khaki shorts leaving too much muscled thigh in view for any normal woman to ignore. Lori's emotions were anything but normal around Gray.


Draining another swallow of milk, Angela waved to her older son as he sprinted past. Her hand fell to her lap. "I'm going to miss having him close."


Me, too. They'd been apart for a year, yet she'd taken a strange comfort in knowing she might run into him, could drop in if the crazy notion took hold. Which it had. She'd almost caved more than once.


Angela stuffed the antacid roll in her pocket. "You do know you've gotten closer to Grayson than anyone else ever has. Probably closer than he's let even his own family get."


Lori fidgeted on the suddenly uncomfortable wooden swing. "I'm not sure we should be—"


"Why not?" Gray's mother raised her hands and leaned back. "I realize we don't know each other well, but time's running out. Consider it one last desperate measure from a concerned mama."


While Lori wanted to be resentful of the intrusion, she understood motherly concerns better every day. Parenting brought a host of worries with all those blessings, and she wouldn't trade a moment of it. She'd just never expected to tackle it alone.


An ache lodged firmly in her stomach, and she eyed the glass of milk with longing. "How did you do it, Angela?"


"Do what, dear?"


"Send Dave off to work every day not knowing if he would come home, and if he did what kind of shape would he be in?"


"He wouldn't have given it up for me." The older woman turned away, her head gravitating toward the solitary man walking along the shore. "And I never asked him to."


"You're a good wife." Better than I could be.


"No, I'm a very greedy one. You asked me a question, and you deserve an honest answer. How did I do it? It was better than the alternative. Not having him at all. I faced that for four god-awful years." Angela paused for a steadying breath. "I'll take what I can have of him."


What could Lori say to that? Not a darn thing.


Angela gripped the armrests and eased to her feet. Her hands whipped wrinkles from her cotton day dress. "Time for a drink check before everyone dehydrates."


"I'll help."


"No need, dear. You sit tight and relax. I'll be right back." Angela turned the power of her smile on Lori, almost covering the concern in her eyes.


Gray thought he was so much like his father. Why couldn't he see he had bits of his mother in him, as well? He had her smile covering an iron will.


And that stubborn fool had just scored another touchdown. His uninhibited victory dance tripped right over Lori's already tender emotions.


He'd broken her heart once. He was well on his way to doing it again. How she wished she were like Angela, able to take what she could before he finished her off once and for all.


Gray had offered half measures, living together, accept whatever the future held. She'd existed that way her entire childhood, with an unsure future, holding second place to her parents' jobs. She wanted better for herself—and for Magda, because she wouldn't be able to let that little girl go. Ever. No more foster parenting. Lori wanted to file for adoption. Magda was her daughter.


Lori's gaze strayed unerringly toward two bandanna-clad heads. Why did Gray have to look so very much like Magda's father?


Lori stilled the swing and watched Angela speak to Gray before she joined her husband. Clasping Dave's hand in hers, she tipped her face up to him. Love glimmered from her like the sun glinting off the lightly cresting waves.


God, she wanted that for herself, just once. Her gaze gravitated back to Gray, and she couldn't stop from wanting it with him. Hadn't Angela said there were times to just take whatever she could from life?


While she couldn't see living the rest of her life that way, maybe she could adopt the attitude for one selfish day.


He'd wanted to make the most of their last day before they said goodbye. Well, she had a damn good idea of how they should spend their last night together.


Chapter 14


His father looked different cradling a sleeping Magda to his chest. Dave Clark sprawled in his leather recliner, remote in his hand as he channel surfed. Magda snoozed away with her familiar kid snore.


Gray had expected an afternoon with his dysfunctional family would send Lori running screaming for the woods. Instead he'd seen the Clark clan through her eyes and found a few surprises of his own. Nothing radical, just softening touches around the edges.


When had his parents started holding hands again? His father had actually spoken more than three-word sentences to his children and grandchildren.


Staring at his father, Gray leaned a shoulder against the archway into the great room. What else had he missed?


He'd missed finding a chance to talk with Lori alone, since she'd spent the entire day surrounded by his family.


Gray stopped his mother in the hall, away from nosy nieces and nephews. "Hey, Mom. Do you mind watching Magda while Lori and I go for a walk?" Like he really expected his mom to argue.


Penciled eyebrows rose. "Of course not. Hold on a minute first."


Angela bustled from the room, then rushed back in breathlessly, her arms full. "Here." She shoved a beach bag and a blanket against his chest. "Do take your time. Stop and stargaze."


Oddly enough, he'd planned just that.


Gray juggled the blanket until it draped over his arm and peered in the bag warily. Two sodas, a box of crackers and a can of Cheez Whiz rattled around inside. As far as impromptu picnics went, it wasn't half bad.