A delighted smile creased his grandfather’s face, and for one brief moment Hunter actually did feel like the hero he’d always wanted to be. Then reality crashed down. If he was going to be leaving the SEAL and coming home to stay, there were plans to set in motion, decisions to make. And he had to talk to Margie, he told himself.

The old man clapped his hands together and scrubbed his palms against each other. “I knew you’d do the right thing, boy. Eventually.”

A wry smile curved Hunter’s mouth. “Thanks. I think.” Then he shoved one hand across the top of his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “I still have to go back to the base at the end of the month.”

“Understood.”

Hunter nodded, turned to face Simon and pulled in a deep breath. Finally, the tension in his chest had loosened. For days now he’d been torn about what to do. Questioning his own loyalties, feeling the tug of home and duty fighting with the call to return to the life he’d built. He’d been engaged in a silent battle within himself, and now that a decision had been made, he could breathe easy.

Yes, it would be hard leaving the Navy, but he was needed here. And, as he felt a slight twinge in his side, he reminded himself that he’d been thinking about the possibility of retirement ever since he’d been shot. So, maybe this was how it was supposed to be.

“What about Margie?”

Hunter focused on his grandfather. “What about her?”

“Well,” Simon said, “if you’re going to stay, there’s no reason for her to go either, is there? You’re already married. And I’ve seen the way you look at her, boy. I’m old, not blind.”

He hadn’t had time to consider all the options here. He’d just this minute decided to retire, for God’s sake. It’s not as if he’d thought everything through. But now that he did think about it, he wondered if Simon wasn’t right. But, “We agreed to divorce.”

“Damn hardheaded-”

Hunter wasn’t willing to budge. He’d make up his own mind about Margie-without well-meant interference. “Simon, don’t push it. Whatever happens between me and Margie is up to us, not you.”

“She makes you happy, Hunter. Or hadn’t you noticed that?”

Happy. With a wife he hadn’t chosen. With a wife he’d suspected for too long was nothing more than a scam artist out for whatever she could finagle out of a lonely old man.

With a woman who set him on fire with a touch.

But damned if he’d let his grandfather run his personal life, too. “You can’t screw with people’s lives, Simon. You can’t arrange everything the way you want it.”

“Don’t see why not, when I can see perfectly clear what should happen,” Simon muttered.

“Because you don’t get to decide my life, Grandfather. And you sure as hell don’t get to decide Margie’s.” He loved the elderly man, but damned if he’d fall into line just because Simon demanded it. And if this was a sign of how things were going to be once he came home and took over the family business at last, then they were in for quite a few battles.

So, Hunter decided, it was best to stand his ground right from the get-go. “Back off of this, Grandfather.”

“You look me in the eye and tell me you don’t care for that girl,” Simon challenged.

Well, that was the trouble, Hunter thought, as he deliberately looked away. He didn’t know what the hell he was feeling at the moment.

Nine

After leaving his grandfather, Hunter immediately made the phone call he never would have believed he’d be making. Punching in the numbers from memory, he dialed JT’s cell phone and waited in the garden while it rang.

“Thorne,” the voice on the other end of the line suddenly snapped.

“Boss, it’s Hunt.” Hunter stared up at the cloudswept sky, tipped his face into an ocean breeze and closed his eyes.

“Yeah, I know. What’s up?”

What isn’t? Hunter took a breath, opened his eyes and stared out at the broad expanse of lawn and garden. This was his home. And though he’d avoided the knowledge for years, this was his place.

“I wanted you to know,” Hunter said, his voice ringing with the steel and strength of his conviction in the decision he’d made, “I’ll be coming back to base, but when my enlistment’s up, I’m going to be leaving the team.”

There was a long pause and then a soft laugh. “If you’re waiting for me to be surprised, don’t bother,” JT said at last.

Hunter laughed then, a short, sharp bark of sound. “Well hell, boss. It surprises me.”

“It shouldn’t, Hunt. You’ve got a life to go back to now. That wife of yours deserves better than a parttime husband.”

Margie. She was a part of this decision, no doubt. How big a part was something Hunter hadn’t let himself figure out yet.

“Yeah, I guess she does,” he said because it was easy and it was a reason JT would understand. “Look, I don’t like leaving the team in the lurch, so I wanted you to know so you could start looking into my replacement.”

“Nobody’s gonna be able to replace you, Hunt,” JT told him. “But I appreciate it. We’ll talk when your R and R is over, okay?”

Hunter scraped one hand across his face and nodded, though his friend couldn’t see the action. “You bet. See you in a few days.”

When he hung up, Hunter stood in the swath of sunshine and waited for regret to claim him, waited for the feeling that he’d made a mistake to slam home. But it didn’t come. Instead, he felt a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. Then he turned and looked up at the big house behind him. As if he sensed her presence, Hunter’s gaze locked on the bedroom window.

“One more conversation to have,” he told himself and stalked across the stone patio, determined to finish setting his life on its new course.

Margie was in the bathtub when Hunter went upstairs after getting off the phone. He saw steam wafting from the open bathroom door and heard the splash of water and her soft voice humming a little off-key. Even as his body went stiff and eager, his mind chided him, reminding him just what he’d come to see her about.

Now that he’d made the decision to take on the family responsibility, he and Margie had to talk. Damned if Hunter wanted to admit it, but Simon had a point. If Hunter was going to stay, there was no reason for Margie to go.

Nodding to himself, he stalked across the room, stepped into the bathroom and leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb. With her back to him, she sat in the dark blue, oversize spa-jetted tub, one arm draped across the edge of the tub, jasmine-scented bubbles floating on top of the water, caressing the mounds of her breasts. The tips of pink nipples poked through the water and his body reacted instantly. He had to shift position to ease the discomfort in his jeans-which only told him that continuing this “marriage” was a good idea. They’d already proven they were more than compatible in bed. She loved Simon and this town. Hell. She was happy here. Why wouldn’t she want to stay?

Smiling to himself, he tore his gaze from the delectable sight of those twin nipples and said, “Margie?” “Whoops!” She shrieked, slipped lower under the water and flipped her head around to stare at him, eyes wide. “God, Hunter! Are you trying to kill me?” She slapped one hand to her bubble-covered chest and added, “And if you are, could you not do it in the bathroom? Jeez, first in the shower, now in the bath. I really don’t want to be found dead and naked.”

He was smiling. Damn it, he usually ended up smiling around Margie. Hadn’t really thought about it before this moment, but Simon was right. She did make him happy. When she wasn’t making him crazy in bed. She was fun to talk to. Easy to be around. She’d made him realize there was more in his life to think about than his own ambitions. She wasn’t afraid to stand up to him, either, and he liked that. He liked her.

Plus, the sight of her naked body turned him into a pillar of fire, burning up from the inside out. All good things.

Hunter watched as she pushed herself higher up against the back of the tub, and his gaze dropped to her breasts, almost completely exposed by the disappearing curtain of bubbles.

His body went even harder than it had been before, and Hunter fought down a groan. Hell, he told himself, get the talking with over-then he’d join her in that soapy water and show her a few things with the tub’s jets.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, smoothing a wet washcloth up the length of her arm.

“What? Huh?” He blinked and shook his head. Talk. That’s right. He’d come here to talk to her. “Fine. Yeah. Everything’s good.” Better than fine, really, now that he’d made the toughest decision of his life. “I just left Simon and-”

“Speaking of Simon, his birthday party is going to be fabulous. I got this local band to play-they specialize in big-band music from the forties. I think Simon and his friends will love it.”

“I’m sure they will,” he said, smiling as she went on about the party. This was the right move to make, he told himself. The two of them were good together. She loved his grandfather. She was already a part of this town.

And while his mind was racing, he thought about Gretchen briefly and wondered why in the hell he’d ever even broached the subject of marriage to her. She would never have fit in here, never have wanted to. Springville was too small, too ordinary, too off-the-beaten-track. Gretchen would have hated this place, while Margie clearly thrived in it.

Yeah. He was doing the right thing.

“And the caterer is going to work with Simon’s cook, so everything will be perfect,” she said.

“Good.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, and the washcloth slowed a bit as she asked the question.

“I am.”

He walked into the bathroom, sat down on the edge of the tub and stared down at her. The scent of jasmine was so thick in the air that he drew it into his lungs with every breath, as if she were surrounding him. Her skin was rosy-pink from the hot water, and her lush, dark red curls were wet at the ends. Her lips were full and parted as though she were inviting a kiss, and he was too damn tempted to lean in and give her just what she wanted. But first he had to tell her about the decision he’d made.

Silently, he congratulated himself on finding the perfect solution for all of them and wondered why it had taken so long for him to consider it. Stubborn, like Simon said, he guessed. Didn’t matter, though. He saw things clearly now, and he was sure Margie would agree. Why wouldn’t she? It was a win-win for both of them.

“Who’s Gretchen?” she asked.

“What?” That question threw everything else out of his head.

“I heard you and your friends talking about her when they were here,” she said with a shrug that dissipated a few more strategically placed bubbles. “One of them mentioned you and Gretchen.”

“Yeah.” Thanks, Hula. “She’s an old girlfriend.”

“Ah,” she said, dipping the washcloth into the water, then sliding it up her other arm slowly. “And she’s a goddess?”

Hunter scowled and watched as the wet cloth slid along her wet skin. Yes, Gretchen was beautiful, but he’d never fantasized about being her washcloth. Besides, he hadn’t come up here to talk about Gretchen. “Hula’s got a big mouth.”

Margie gave him a sad smile. “Which answers my question.”

Frowning, he asked, “Why’d you wait until now to ask about her?”

“Maybe because I didn’t want to know.”

“So why’d you ask at all-” He stopped. “Never mind. This is female logic, right?”

“I was just curious, that’s all,” she said.

“Fine, but I don’t want to talk about my ex or any of your exes, either.”

“I don’t have any,” she told him, sliding her body down into the water until her knees poked through the water’s surface and her nipples made tiny pink islands. “Exes, I mean. You’ll be my first.”

“What?” He stared at her and shook his head, not sure whether to believe that or not. Yes, she’d been a virgin, but she’d had no ex-boyfriends at all? “How is that possible? Do you only meet blind men?”

Margie laughed shortly. “I think that’s a compliment, so thanks.”

“Of course it’s a compliment.” Hadn’t he complimented her before this? Apparently not. He should have. Hell, she’d stepped up and taken care of Simon when he wasn’t around. She’d been there for this town, for his grandfather, for him, he thought, remembering the night she’d held him and eased him through a nightmare. The same night they’d had sex for the first time. He’d been so intent on shutting her out, he hadn’t told her how much he appreciated everything she did.

But he’d make up for it. He could compliment her plenty over the coming years. He’d make a mental note to do just that. He stood up, not really trusting himself to stay so close to a wet, naked Margie without reaching out a hand to touch, to stroke, to…