.

injured, battle-fatigued ex-wife.

      Shit.

      He looked up at his closest friends.

      “When did you say she’d be back on the island?”

      * * *

      DREW SHOVED THE glass-paned door wide open and strode into the parking lot behind his practice. The blustery March day was no match for the heat of his blood as it pumped through his veins with an intensity he hadn’t experienced since—

      Since the navy told him Gwen was dead.

      He ran both hands over his head, willing the sharp, cold bite of the March air to prove he wasn’t dreaming.

      Gwen was alive.

      Maybe there was a chance. Maybe the reason neither of them had connected with anyone else yet was— No, never.

      She was still Gwen.

      They’d never forgiven themselves for ending their marriage. They’d been too young to understand that sometimes it was okay to let a relationship go before it hurt too much.

      Gwen hadn’t made any attempt to say goodbye before she left on deployment. He didn’t know what had possessed him to drive to the hangar to see her off that last day. He was sure she’d chalked it up to pity, as she always did whenever he expressed compassion for her.

      He’d said he was seeing her off like any other friend, and thanked her for her service. Gave her a friendly hug.

      What had he been trying to prove? That he could touch her without wanting to make love to her again?

      Her reaction had been cool, professional. The shell she’d grown over the past several years had hardened to an impregnable wall that didn’t let anyone in.

      Especially him.

      Living through what, by all accounts, had been hell on earth—captured by insurgents, escaping, being on the run through the Philippine jungle—must have cracked that wall in more than one place.

      Didn’t Ro say she’d saved a baby?

      And if there was a chance for him to get inside Gwen’s heart again, did he really want to?

      He gazed at the water and shook his head.

      Surviving the worst nightmare of her life wouldn’t change Gwen’s mind about their divorce, and it hadn’t changed his. No matter what the circumstance, they’d always end up back where they’d stalled—neither willing to compromise for the relationship.

      He’d worked hard to start a life without her, and she’d never sacrifice her career for a marriage.

      Thoughts of what might have happened to her ripped at the shock he’d been in since he ran out of the building. If she’d been raped...

      “Damn it all to hell!” He yelled at the parking lot, to the soccer fields and playgrounds that edged the perimeter of the island’s shore, to the calm water of Puget Sound.

      A startled seagull flapped off the waste bin Drew’s practice shared with a hair salon. He registered the bird’s presence but didn’t try to shield himself from any potential droppings.

      He dug his numbed fingers into his pockets and pulled out his car keys. He’d left everything except his keys and his wallet in the office. He’d been too crazed to grab his jacket.

      Didn’t matter. The car had a heater and he had to get out of here.

      * * *

      LOST IN THOUGHTS of Gwen’s return, Drew drove up to the Koffee Hut. Drive-through-only specialty coffee shops were a common feature in the Pacific Northwest, and Whidbey was no exception. Only after he’d shifted the car into park next to the trailer window did he realize his mistake.

      “Drew! What a nice surprise. In the middle of the day, too.” Opal smiled at him from the serving window of her business. She’d set it up after leaving his employ; she’d been one of his assistants for the first two years he’d had the PT clinic, during which she’d earned a part-time business degree at the community college.

      “Yeah, well, I needed a break. I’ll have the usual.”

      “A large cup of drip, coming right up.” Worry lines appeared between her perfectly shaped brows. With stunning blond curls and bright blue eyes, Opal looked like a cherub in an Italian painting. He watched as she plucked a cup from the tall stack and poured the coffee. Her expression reflected friendly concern.

      “What’s going on, Drew?”

      “Nothing much.” He wasn’t going to confide in Opal. It’d been hard enough convincing her that he didn’t want to pursue a relationship with her. He refused to encourage her or lead her on.

      The entire time she’d worked for him she’d been a worthy employee, but he never crossed the line and dated people he paid. Good thing, since she’d bought the house next to his right after he and Gwen split. It might have been a real-estate coincidence, but it was still awkward in those first few months after his divorce, when she’d started her new business. She’d repeatedly emphasized that she didn’t work for him anymore. If he’d dated her, it would have been a disaster when they broke up.

      Because they would have. Long-term relationships weren’t on his agenda.

      One had been enough for him.

      Opal’s feelings had been hurt that he wouldn’t even consider a date with her. They were both single, ran their own businesses, loved the Pacific Northwest.

      After several attempts to have Drew over for dinner, Opal had accepted their “friends only” status.

      Maybe he had been crazy to turn her down. If he was involved with someone else, he wouldn’t be a safe harbor for Gwen. He wouldn’t feel as if he was staring down the wrong end of a weapon.

      “You don’t look your usual chipper self.” She handed him the hot cup. As he reached to take it, she put a hand on his wrist.

      “Drew, we’re friends. How many times have I told you I don’t take it personally that we didn’t work out? It’s okay if you need an ear.” Didn’t work out? They’d never been more than friends.

      Neither had he and Serena, who still worked for him so was technically off-limits. Serena was another available woman who, on paper, appeared to be a good fit for him.

      Drew fought to keep a scowl off his face.

      He’d had every opportunity to date other women and like a fool he hadn’t. If he had, Gwen’s return wouldn’t be shaking him up so much.

      He gently removed her hand from his arm and took his coffee, leaving the payment on the small Formica counter.

      “I appreciate your concern, Opal. I’m just not ready to talk about it.”

      Opal’s kind smile was back. “I totally understand. Let me know if you want me to bring over some dinner for you tonight.”

      “Oh, no, I’m fine. Did a big load of grocery shopping yesterday.” He was lying and prayed she hadn’t checked his refrigerator the last time she’d popped in uninvited to leave him muffins or a casserole.

      He really needed to start locking the side deck door.

      Until now he hadn’t minded her unannounced drop-ins, since she’d accepted that they’d never be more than friends. Now that Gwen was going to be staying with him, he’d have to convince Opal to stop her visits.

      Or keep his damned door locked.

      * * *

      DREW DROVE TO the other side of the island with his coffee in one hand, the other on the steering wheel. It used to be a favorite haunt of his during the dark days of his divorce from Gwen.

      Gwen.

      He gulped too much of the hot coffee, which burned his throat, but that served as a way