said often. At twenty-eight, she’d grown into the kind of woman who could take care of whatever came her way, even a furious Marine. “I’ll be fine.”
She repeated the words to herself as she hauled the provisions she’d brought with her the short distance from the beach to the only house visible from the boat dock. There was a single light on inside. Kelly heard the first distant boom of thunder as she pounded on the door.
It was yanked open a moment later.
And there he was. Justice Wilder. Looking none too pleased to see her. And looking far better than a man in his condition should look. But a second glance showed the paleness of his face, the lines of pain around his mouth, the cuts and bruises on his muscular legs, the sling holding his right arm.
His dark hair tumbled over his forehead. It was longer than when she’d seen him last. He was wearing military-green boxers and a T-shirt emblazoned with the USMC logo. He’d barely been twenty that last time she’d seen him. He’d made her heart pound then, and he had the same effect now.
She drank in the sight of him. His lean cheeks, his tempting mouth, his tall ranginess. The teenager had grown into a man—a man who still had the power to go straight to her heart. It was amazing. Even after all this time, even under these conditions, she still felt a zing.
He apparently did not. His blue eyes were dark with fury as he glared at her. “What the Sam Hill are you doing here?”
Marines don’t swear, he’d once told her. Swearing shows a lack of discipline.
His words snapped her out of her reverie. Making the most of the Southern accent she’d acquired during her time in Nashville, Kelly drawled, “I heard you were having a pity party for yourself and I decided to come join you.”
Justice appeared taken aback by her blunt reply.
Good. She wanted to jar him out of whatever idiocy was preventing him from taking care of himself and his injuries properly. He had no right to make his poor mother so frantic with worry. Not to mention that he had no right to look so sexy that her knees were mushy.
“Do I know you?” he demanded.
Okay, so the guy hadn’t seen her since she was an awkward teenager, and even then he’d barely noticed her. She just somehow hadn’t prepared herself for the possibility that he wouldn’t recognize her.
Did she look that disheveled? Sure the cargo pants she wore were wrinkled from the trip, but the lime-green T-shirt she’d teamed with them usually looked fine on her. Her light-brown hair was gathered up into a braid to avoid being messed up by the increasing wind. She didn’t have the kind of memorable looks that her sister possessed. She didn’t even have her sister’s gorgeous blue eyes. Instead Kelly had brown eyes.
But then, she hadn’t come here looking to win any beauty contests. She’d come here to help Mrs. Wilder by helping her oldest and most stubborn son.
Kelly hadn’t seen Justice in years. She wouldn’t be coming to see him now were it not for the desperate phone call she’d received from his mother yesterday morning. She replayed the conversation in her head.
“Kelly, I need your help. I wouldn’t ask if there was any other way…” The older woman’s voice had cracked with emotion.
“You know I’ll help you any way I can,” Kelly had assured her. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Justice,” Mrs. Wilder replied. “He’s hurt. He saved a little boy in a car accident but was badly injured in the process. It happened near the Marine base here in North Carolina a week ago. After staying overnight, Justice checked himself out of the hospital first thing this morning. I couldn’t stop him. But I made him tell me where he’s going. To a friend’s beach house. I want you to talk him into getting the physical therapy he needs. And I’ll be honest with you, Kelly, that may mean giving it to him yourself. I know this is an awkward situation…” Mrs. Wilder’s voice trailed off. They never really referred to it—the divorce between Kelly’s older sister, Barbie, and Mrs. Wilder’s oldest son, Justice—as anything other than the “awkward situation.”
Some might find it strange that Kelly had developed such a close relationship with Mrs. Wilder, a relationship that continued even after Barbie had dumped Justice. But they didn’t know the facts, or the emotions.
Kelly had only been thirteen when her mom died in a train accident and her older sister married Justice right out of high school. Mrs. Wilder had been a godsend to Kelly at that time, taking the gangly Kelly under her wing and mothering her with love and support.
The marriage between Barbie and Justice had only lasted two years, but the close bonds between Mrs. Wilder and Kelly had continued on for a decade and had strengthened. Mrs. Wilder had helped Kelly pick out a high school prom dress, had listened to her worries about attending an out-of-state college, had encouraged her to follow her dream of becoming a physical therapist, had agreed the job opportunity in Nashville was too good to let pass.
Mrs. Wilder had been there for Kelly at a time when she’d really needed a motherly influence, and she’d continued to be there for her throughout the years. Kelly would walk through fire for her.
“I hate to ask you,” Mrs. Wilder had said unsteadily. “But I don’t know what else to do.”
Kelly had known what to do. The right thing, the only thing to do. Help Mrs. Wilder any way she could.
And so here she was. Coming to the rescue. The question was how to do that? Justice didn’t recognize her. Should she let him know who she was right away? Her relationship to Barbie was hardly likely to put her on the top of his guest list.
She was considering her options when something clicked and Justice’s gaze hardened.
“I’m Kelly,” she said, even though she could tell he’d already gathered that much. “Kelly Hart. Your mother sent me.”
Justice looked as if he didn’t believe a word she was saying. Meanwhile the thunder was rumbling closer and closer. “Why would my mother do that?”
“Because she knows I’m a physical therapist.” Kelly was not about to reveal the ongoing friendship she had with Mrs. Wilder to Justice yet. She doubted he’d understand.
“Go away. I don’t want you here,” Justice growled.
“I did rather get that impression,” she noted wryly.
“You can’t stay here.”
“I can’t leave,” she said with gentle cheerfulness, even as she nudged the door open and maneuvered her way around him, away from the huge raindrops that had started falling outside. “There’s a storm coming and besides, the nice fisherman who brought me over in his powerboat has left already.” Her huge tote bag hung from her shoulder and threatened to slip off as she lifted the box she’d brought. “Where do you want me to put these?”
“Where do I want you to…?” Justice repeated in disbelief. “As far away from me as possible. Antarctica would do fine.” His voice held a military curtness and a drill inspector loudness.
Kelly didn’t flinch but instead allowed his anger and his words to roll off her like water off a duck. “That voice isn’t going to work on me, so you might as well save your energy and your vocal cords. You’re not going to scare me away.”
“Don’t be so sure of that, little girl.”
Okay, so now his voice held a dangerous edge that did make her a tad nervous. But she couldn’t afford to let that show. And she also couldn’t afford to let him know how glad she was to see him.
She’d only been thirteen the last time she’d seen him. He’d been marrying her older sister at the time. He’d looked so tall and heroic to her young eyes. He’d adored Barbie and had from the moment he’d met her three years earlier in high school.
Justice and Barbie had gotten married right after graduation. Two years later they’d gotten divorced.