"No problem, sir. Since we're all finished here, I'll call it a night." Saluting, the uniformed cop snapped attention
Zach returned the salute. "Have a good evening, Chief."
"Good night, Colonel." He nodded to Julia. "Ma'am." He stepped back into his patrol car.
Julia stayed quiet until he pulled out of the driveway, matter how much she wanted to run hard and fast from the turmoil brought on by one incredible kiss, she couldn't walk away from Zach now. Not with those broad shoulders so tense.
At the very least, she should see him through the next few minutes. "Do you want me to go inside with you while you talk to her?"
He shook his head, jaw so tight he could have flattened nails. Did the guy ever lose control? He strode to his motorcycle and swiped the radio off the seat.
Julia stuffed her hands into her pockets to keep from stroking the trenches from his brow.
"I don't mind if you think it would help."
"No. Thank you." He paced through the carport, boots pounding an angry tattoo against the cement. "One conversation isn't going to fix this and if the past is anything to go by, she won't talk for another day at least."
He nudged aside a stray bicycle helmet with his boot. "I'll ground her. Take away phone privileges."
His boot tapped a bucket of sidewalk chalk into a corner, his words picking up speed, his every step heavier. "She'll roll her eyes, slam her door then pierce another damned body part the minute she's not grounded anymore."
He kicked the wall. Julia winced.
His shoulders rose and fell with each erratic breath, finally slowing. He turned to face her, his face impassive except for that small tic. He stalked toward her, carefully stepping over a scooter. "So, what's your answer? Will you marry me?"
"I don't think now—"
"I know we're not much of a prize," he plowed ahead. "A messed-up teen and an eight-year-old Betty Crocker wannabe who breaks my heart she's so damned wary. And then there's me." He thumped his chest with a splayed hand. "I know I make a sorry excuse for a husband, but I like to think my friendship is rock-solid. If you take us on, I'll do my best by you and Patrick."
In spite of a thousand logical reasons crowding her brain and telling her this was a bad, bad idea, she weakened. Even Patrick chipped away at her already crumbling resolve with a gurgle from the car.
Zach edged forward as if sensing his advantage and pressed ahead. "The kids need us and what we can give them together, now more than ever." She knew he was right, although she resented his using the all-out impact of that charismatic will to convince her. How could she turn away from those two girls who'd already worked their way into her heart with their vulnerable eyes? How could she say no to the sweet baby cooing such trust from the back seat?
Yet a part of her wanted something more from this proposal, some indication that he needed her and not just the role she filled for his children.
A dangerous wish since she wouldn't know what to do with such a statement even if he made it. Julia threw out the first line of defense that came to mind. "We never settled the issue of sex. I mean it when I say I'm not ready and you almost had me convinced you were okay with that. Zach, the kiss changes everything."
"Only if we let it, and we won't."
Zach advanced another step. She retreated until her back smacked flush against her car.
"Stop. Please."
"Okay. I hear you." He held a hand up. "If us ha**ng s*x is a stumbling block to doing what's right for the kids, then we'll do without. We'll go back to the way things were last year other than sharing a house. I'll buy that day-bed for the computer room first thing tomorrow."
"Won't it seem strange to the children?" What was she trying to do? Convince him to say no to the marriage or no to sleeping in another bed?
"I do not have to explain my sex life to my teenager." The eye tic flicked again. The tender comforter who had lured Julia into considering his proposal slipped away.
"It's not that simple."
"Sure it is." Military bearing starched right up his spine. "If anyone else asks, I'm working late hours and don't want to disturb the baby. Or the baby is waking up at night and I sleep in there to keep from breaking crew rest. Whatever. It's no one's business where you and I sleep."
Yeah, right. Like anything could stay secret in the fish-bowl community of base housing.
What a rumor-mill nightmare, as if there wouldn't already be enough gossip with the commander's daughter and the base chaplain's son caught together on the golf course. Not a chance would any of their personal lives or sleeping arrangements stay secret.
She'd swallowed nearly a lifetime supply of pride over Lance's affair. She wasn't sure she could sacrifice what little she had left even to frivolous gossip. But what other choice did she have?