Navy Blue - A Second Chance Romance (Complete)

Navy Blue: Chapter 6

A tortured pain swam in Finn's eyes. Emily tried not to leap across the table and gather him in her arms. Her fingers clutched the pen in her right hand and the plastic creaked under the strain.

He'd crash landed in the ocean. Finn could have died.

The logical part of her brain knew through years of obsessing about the Navy that risk was something every soldier lived with on the daily. She'd spent too much time reading harrowing tales in the news of missions that went astray, had sat in this very conference room countless times taking notes for the other lawyers as their clients related story after story of bravery under fire, self sacrifice and countless other dangerous events.

But none of them had been anyone she cared about.

Her stomach had turned as he relayed the details with a coolness she didn't recognize. Years spent living in memories of the Finn she knew had hardened into glossy acrylic images that focused on the best qualities of the man she loved. He'd always had a dark streak in him, a tendency to negativity, and she'd found ways in their short time together to combat the murkiness, tease out the light.

Because Finn could blaze across the inky night sky and shine when he opened up. For her, he'd shed the shell of protectiveness he held to the rest of the world. Underneath, he was warm and caring, a romantic who desired to give her the world, even though all she'd ever wanted was him. At some point, perhaps after his parents' death, Finn had convinced himself he was deficient, unlovable for some reason. Emily could never understand this hesitancy, for all she saw was a man worthy of love.

That man was hidden from her now. Behind more than a navy-blue uniform. Life in the Navy seemed to have changed Finn in more than his appearance. This coldness was new. Or at least new to Emily, and her heart bled at the lack of emotion.

Silence settled in the room as they stared at each other and ice crawled across her skin. Lance cleared his throat, breaking the trance. "You managed to stay together after the crash?"

Finn's eyes flickered back to the man beside her. "It didn't take long for the rescue boat to reach us. They took Private Anderson to the medic bay..." Finn's voice faded.

Emily couldn't come up with words to comfort him. Doubted there were such words. Yet she had to say something. "Thank you for telling us."

His gaze flickered to her, and the tight lines at the corners of his eyes softened.

There he was, the man she'd fallen head over heels for that summer. The pain still swam in the ocean blue depths, but something else, something familiar, spoke to her in the silent connection they'd always had. She could see him as clear as day, the air between them sparking to life across the short distance of the conference table.

Like the day he'd found her on a sideroad in Bridgetown in the pouring rain. She'd been walking her bike back to their summer home, and he'd stopped, concerned over her drenched appearance. Strong arms lifted her bike into the bed of his truck like it was a child's toy. Inside the cab, he'd cranked the heat and the clean, crisp scent she'd noticed as she hung out at the Waterfront bar to talk to Finn, increased tenfold.

The truck's heater was no match to her sodden dress, and he'd offered his sweater to keep her warm. In the act of pulling closed the zipper, his fingers had accidentally brushed her chin and as she caught his gaze, they'd shared a look. This look.

The echo of Finn's touch burned on her skin here, amongst the green leather chairs and tinted glass windows in Washington. Tingles shot straight to her stomach.

In the truck, his thumb had slid along her bottom lip, and she wasn't cold anymore, heat flushing up her neck. The tiny move burst the damn of reservation she'd been holding since she'd met him, and she replaced his thumb with his lips. He'd gasped at her touch and doubt crept in. Was she being too forward again? Too impulsive? When both his hands cupped her face and his mouth took possession of hers, she'd known she wasn't alone.

They weren't alone.

Sparks ignited behind her closed eyes as his tender touch turned up a notch to less than tame. His hunger matched hers. Under the pads of her fingers, his heart beat, strong and steady. Her heart synced to his and from that day on, they were inseparable.

Until she'd left for Japan. Eight long years passing between then and now. A lifetime of not touching, not knowing.

As if he was in sync with her now, Finn's face turned to stone. "That's why I'm here. It's my job Ma'am."

The generic label slashed against her skin, leaving an unseen welt. So formal, so distant. Once she'd been Em, to him. The single syllable speaking volumes. So little needing to be said between them for understanding. Now they were oceans apart.

She blinked, trying to shake the memories that clung to her like spiderwebs. Outside, the sun went behind the clouds and the room dimmed. "Take us back to the night before. You were at a bar with Lieutenant Casey, correct?"

"Yes, Ma'am." She ignored the churn in her gut. "Some members of my team were blowing off steam on shore for the evening."

"This included Private Randall and Private Anderson?" Lance interjected.

Finn's chair squeaked as he shifted. "Correct."

"Was Lieutenant Private Casey drinking that evening?"

"Yes." Finn's one-word responses were nothing new, but today they spat out of him like Morris code.

She nudged him for more details. "You left the bar when?"

"It closed at 2am."

Emily added the fact to the timeline on her laptop. "In your opinion, was Lieutenant Casey inebriated at this point?"

"No." The sharp word spit out of him. Her eyes flew to him. "Definitely not. To my knowledge, she only had two beers all night."

"And you?" Lance leaned forward, and Emily knew he sensed something. She'd seen the look before, in class, when he could anticipate the professor's question. "How many had you had?"

Finn's jaw tightened. "A few."

"Can you be specific?" Finn had been only seventeen that summer, too young to drink.

"I paid for three rounds and Private Randall matched me."

"So six beers." Emily typed the number into her notes.

"No six pitchers."

Lance passed out after three beers. Obviously, Finn had more stamina. She wondered what a drunk Finn was like. Would he loosen up, let his guard down, smile a little? Had he smiled at Lieutenant Casey?

Emily scrolled to Lieutenant Casey's bio. A confident smile in a long, thin face filled the screen, framed by short sandy brown hair and matching eyes. Unlike Emily, she was tall, with strong shoulders. Emily could image the Lieutenant standing side by side with Finn, in matching navy blue.

"Were you inebriated?" she asked.

"I refused to drive." Finn's tone was so flat it sounded like wood slapping against concrete.

Lance shifted the conversation. "When you left the bar, did Private Casey return to base with you?"

"Yes." Finn turned to Lance, and Emily's gaze fell to the keys of her laptop.

"Did you part ways upon reaching the base?" Lance asked the question Emily didn't know she wanted the answer to. She stared intently at the j key, waiting.

In a low voice, Finn continued. "No."

The single utterance sent shards of ice barrelling toward her heart. She had enough experience interviewing witnesses, she could tell he had more to say. It was best to let the person tell the tale in their own words and their own time. The truth would out. Even if she didn't want to hear it.

"She spent the night in my room."