LITMIR.BIZ

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he insisted.

      Loring dipped his sword into the first slice as they both held on to the handle. “I don’t see your mother, Hannah?”

      Hannah cast a sidelong glance at the man just as the photographer took his next snapshot. “Hold for one more,” he said again.

      If she didn’t manage a smile, they’d be here all day.

      “She’s driving over with my sister and the baby in our car. It’s easier than switching Fallon’s car seat back and forth.”

      “Will your mother be in the San Diego area long?”

      “Until the end of next week.”

      “Maybe she’ll have time for dinner with an old friend.” He smiled into the camera.

      Her mom and Captain Loring? Friends? Now that would take some getting used to. A slower, less certain smile spread across Hannah’s face. “Maybe.”

      “Got it!” the photographer said.

      Before the polite applause ended, she found herself searching the O Club for her mother and sister. “Sammy! Over here!” Hannah waved her through the door of the crowded banquet room. “Where’s Fallon?”

      “Fallon’s cranky. Mom had me drive them home.”

      “Oh.” Hannah quickly hid her disappointment. With McCaffrey here maybe it was for the best. “I should go, too.”

      At home she could look into her daughter’s eyes, where the reason for keeping father and daughter apart made sense. She didn’t want to hurt either of them. But it was a decision already causing her pain.

      “No way, this is your big day. Besides, you promised to introduce me to Spencer Holden. I’ve only been in love with him forever.”

      Like every other groupie.

      Holden had caused quite a stir when he’d walked away from the fame and fortune of Hollywood to enroll in an Ivy League college. A few years later he’d walked into a Navy recruiting office. The paparazzi still followed him around as if he were Elvis.

      At first Hannah had found it all amusing, but it soon became annoying. And now her own sister had joined the ranks of the starstruck.

      Sammy leaned back against the bar and surveyed the room. “Wow! Are all these guys single?”

      “Not all.” Hannah was too jaded not to see past a well-cut uniform—with one exception of course, and he seemed to have disappeared. Finally she could relax. Except Sammy had that kid-in-a-candy-store look that made Hannah want to rush her sister from the O Club before she bit into the goodies.

      “Excuse me, Lieutenant Commander Stanton.” Lieutenant Russell Parish, her Executive Officer squeezed through the crowd and came toward them.

      “Yes, Russ, what is it?” He stopped next to Sammy, who had eyes only for Spence and every other pilot out on the dance floor.

      “Ma’am.” Russ acknowledged Sammy as he reached across her to hand Hannah his calling card.

      Sammy shifted her gaze to give Russ the once-over, but dismissed the crew-cut pilot for other more appealing eye candy.

      Russ was too well mannered to take offense. “When would you like me to come calling, ma’am?” This time the “ma’am” was directed at Hannah.

      “Why don’t I have my social secretary call you?”

      Parish’s eyes skittered to her sister, but he didn’t so much as smile. “Yes, ma’am.” He spared another “ma’am” and a nod to Sammy before he moved away.

      “What a geek,” Sammy said when he was out of earshot.

      Privately Hannah agreed, but he was a geek who followed protocol. She handed Sammy the card. “There are going to be more of these.”

      “Give me a break. I’m not drop-dead gorgeous. I’m not tall. Or thin. Or you.”

      “What’s that supposed to mean?”

      “Nothing. Forget it.”

      Sammy had put on the freshman fifteen in college. Then another as she’d settled into teaching at the elementary level. And another during a rotten relationship that had been a blessing in disguise for Hannah and Fallon—Sammy’s need to “get away” had coincided with Hannah’s need for a nanny— But Hannah had never realized until now that the highs and lows in her sister’s life were marked by weight gain. Or that her sister might be unhappy about that.

      Hannah gave her sister a squeeze. “I think you’re beautiful.”

      “Just what every gal wants to hear,” Sammy said, but she squeezed back.

      “Regardless, there will be more of these. Squadron Officers have to call on the new CO.” She softened the blow to Sammy’s ego with a smile.

      “Back up, you’re saying they have to call on you?”

      “It gives me a chance to talk with them one-on-one.” Just like she had a duty to call on her superiors. As McCaffrey had been so quick to point out, she’d only managed to put off the inevitable confrontation. From here on out they moved in the same social and professional stratosphere. Avoiding him was out of the question.

      At least she had the lunch with Lu to look forward to. Officers’ wives tended to exclude female officers from their circles, but then so did their husbands. Rarely did she experience the day-to-day camaraderie her male counterparts relished.

      With the exception of her co-pilot, fellow pilots were respectful but guarded around her. Like her XO. Which was fine. She wasn’t interested in anything but a professional relationship with them. She should have extended her rule to include the SEALs they shuttled. Of course she’d never felt the need for such a rule before.

      “So we’re going to have a parade of single guys over for dinner?”

      “It doesn’t have to be dinner.”

      “Are you kidding? I love to cook,” Sammy said with a cat-that-swallowed-the-canary grin.

      “Sammy, do not consider my command your personal dating service.”

      Her sister fanned herself with Parish’s card. “I think I’m going to like being your nanny, Hannah.”

      “DRINKING ALONE? And before noon?” Admiral Bell pulled up a stool next to Mike.

      “You know I take my drinking seriously.” Mike automatically checked his bare wrist, then dug out the watch from his pocket. “Besides, it’s after noon.”

      By six seconds.

      And sitting at this bar kept him out of the main banquet hall. Out of sight, out of mind. Yeah, right.

      At least the lights and the music were lower in here, which suited his mood.

      “Nice watch,” Warren commented as Mike strapped his shackle back on. “Since when do commanders make more than admirals?”

      “It was a gift.”

      “Nice gift. Chase-Durer, the military pilot’s watch of choice.” Warren picked up on details like that. Mike could only imagine the conclusions the man had already drawn. “How long after you received the gift before you started running?”

      Mike snorted back a half laugh. Warren knew him too well. “I started running before,” he admitted.

      “You must have really liked this one.” Leaving Mike to sort out his conflicting thoughts on the subject, the admiral ordered a rye. “A double. And another round for the Commander here,” he said to the bartender, even though Mike was still nursing his first beer.

      He did like Hannah. That was the problem.

      After their drinks were lined up, the admiral dispensed with the small talk. “I saved you a seat. What happened?”

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