Page 16 of A Spark of Luck
Cait wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t know how to find him. I don’t know if that was a once and done or there’s something else there.”
Jackie was silent for so long, Cait’s mind raced to judgement. She knew it had been a bad idea. She wasn’t one to have sex and walk away. Emotional connection mattered to her.
Jackie leaned close to the screen. “Look, no matter what, it wasn’t the wrong thing. Some experiences are meant to be. Many make fine memories to look at later. Some build a foundation that lasts a lifetime. Some flitter away in a light breeze. You don’t know which this will be. The man has a demanding job. You, having one yourself, should understand that. Don’t let your brain continue with this wrong idea. It wasn’t. Decide whether you’re going to treasure that memory, build on that memory, or chalk it up to place and circumstances. It was good, wasn’t it?”
Choked up, she had trouble getting any response out. “While it lasted,” she whispered.
“Take it as a win and wait and see what happens.”
“Is that what you’re doing? Going to Texas.”
Jackie’s face twisted. “Nope. I’m running plain and simple. I gotta get off this track and on to something that will let me look myself in the eye in the morning.”
“There’s a longer story there.” Cait lifted a brow, a move she’d learned from her stepmother translated to tell the truth or get in trouble.
“Stop. I’ll tell you, but not now. I gotta go. One last dinner with the family pretending all is well, and then I’m out of here to Echo Falls, Texas.”
“Even sounds quaint and off the map.”
“Yep. That’s exactly what I’m hoping for. Love you, kiddo.”
“I love you, too, Jackie. Be careful.”
“Pffft. I’m not the one in a war zone. Stay safe.”
She disconnected with a couple more goodbyes and lifted her laptop to the floor. Pulling her blankets over her, she stared at the beige ceiling tiles and visualized a map in her head. Where was Hunt and would he come back to her?
Week Two Gone
Cait stood in line at the mess and stared at the cookies. She missed cooking. She missed baking. She really missed her own kitchen and all her appliances.
She really missed Hunt.
She grabbed an oatmeal raisin off the display wishing for gooey brownies with frosting or a chocolate cream parfait. Ice cream would be good, too.
“Daydreaming, Doctor?”
She eyed the new doctor. He’d joined their merry troop last week. Funny how time was now measured in her head by the earthquake that had been her time with Hunt.
“What’s good here?” He put his tray down near hers.
“Everything,” she answered absentmindedly, ignoring his attempt to engage. “After a few days on shift running full steam, it’ll be fuel, and you won’t care regardless.”
Or after you tangle with a dangerous male and totally forget yourself. Frustrated with her preoccupation, she spent lunch wondering if Hunt’s appetite was as bad as hers.
Week Four Gone
Twenty-nine days. She knew the deal with Special Operations. They went where they wereordered. Stayed as long as necessary to achieve the mission. Got routed home or to the next line of defense, rarely putting their feet up anywhere but where their smarts and skills were needed.
Honestly, she’d been so gone over the moon with the man, she hadn’t thought to ask. How long are you here for? Where’s your home port? Do you have a girl in every port? Was she even allowed after one quick, hot roll in bed to even ask those questions? That she didn’t know the answer showed her social inexperience with quickies.
Week Six Gone
Why anyone wanted to be a SEAL after the euphoria of success from BUD/S wore off was anybody’s guess. It was violent, bloody, dirty, uncomfortable work. Maybe that was his eight plus years in the SEALS coming to the fore, but Hunt’s tolerance for all the bullshit was low today.
Other side of the dateline from Cait.
Annoying that after six weeks she lingered in this thoughts. His mind shied away from why and moved on with the internal check-in on the state of his life.
