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bet,
was filled with a family.
    Kids. Her eyes drifted to a little boy and girl as they turned another
corner. They looked at Jack’s approaching truck expectantly, standing behind a
homemade lemonade stand and waving hopefully. Jack would stop for them, she
knew. He was a sucker for kids. They could charge him $5 a cup, and he’d still
be opening his wallet.
    Feeling a pinch at her heart, Maeve was
almost grateful for the reminder of why a relationship with him would never work.
    Jack opened the window to what appeared
to be a blonde brother and his freckle-faced red-haired sister. Maeve hoped
their parents appreciated the gift they had in their children.
     Jack glanced at Maeve and said
under his breath, “Hope you like lemonade.” He turned to the children. “How’s
business today?”
    The girl spoke up first. “Nothing yet. Do
you want some?”
    “Do I ever,” Jack said with feigned
enthusiasm. “I’ll take one for myself and one for my friend here.” He pulled
out his wallet.
    Glowing at the sight of crisp bills
passing through the window, the little boy shouted over the hum of the motor. “Thanks,
Mister Jack!” His slight lisp and crooked smile made him almost as endearing as
the Sailor sitting next to her who was always willing to stop for a child’s
lemonade stand.
    Some woman would hit the lottery when she
found Jack. Some woman other than her. Maeve bit her lip uneasily at the thought.
    “Thank you ,” Jack said. After
handing a cup to Maeve, he chugged his quickly. “Just what I needed.” Giving a
wink, he rolled up the window and continued down the street.
    “You know them?”
    “Lexi and Grayson. Neighbors,” he added
as he turned into a driveway leading to a charming waterfront colonial with a
view of the Naval Academy in the distance.
    Maeve gasped. “You live here?”
    “Mmhm.”
    “Why the hell aren’t we having Scrabble
nights at your place rather than mine? This place is huge.”
    Jack laughed. “Because I live in a
basement apartment here. A retired Navy couple owns the place. It’s small, but
the location is perfect. I can launch my kayak right off their shoreline. When
I’m not at your place eating Bess’s latest, that’s usually what I’m doing.”
    So that’s how you maintain a body like
that. Kayaking. As he
stepped out of the truck, Maeve gave a stealth glance again at his build, how
his thick arms led a path to a broad back corded with muscles. Yep, that made
sense, she thought, her mind imagining him rowing a kayak along the Severn, the
sweat on his body glistening under the late day sun.
    She’d bet half the women of this
community were perched at their windows with binoculars every time Jack hit the
water.
    She stepped out of the truck after he
opened her door. “I’m jealous. This view is better than mine.”
    Slipping alongside her as she walked
toward the water, he lazily rested his arm across her shoulders. “Depends what
you’re looking for. You’ve got the Bay. They’ve got the Severn.”
    He gestured toward stairs leading down to
a bright red door. “I’ll show you the invitations. Is Bess still coming?”
    “I’ve called her three times to remind
her, but she never picks up.” Once inside, Maeve’s expression twisted in
disapproval, understanding now why they weren’t hanging out at Jack’s as often
as they did at her home. Small, and crowded with cardboard boxes, his apartment
had serviceable furniture that lacked any style. Not a single splash of color.
    God, the place could use an interior
designer. Maeve wished she had known earlier. She could have made this place
“home” for him, rather than just a place to sleep, eat chili, and clean his
uniforms. And now he was going. She felt a lump in her throat.
    She ventured to a row of boxes along the
wall. “What’s all this?” Without even considering herself nosy—only
curious, of course—she peeked inside.
    Jack sidled up next to her. “Old desert cammies.
Gear I was issued, but