This was the first time he’d privately referred to Maria as his girlfriend, and it left him shocked and more than a little unsettled. They’d been on a handful of outings together, and only one qualified as a real date. The other times they’d gotten together had been like this—forcing a meetup into their mutually busy schedules to see each other face-to-face. But that’s the way new relationships started, and that was okay. He wasn’t a one-night stand kind of person and he suspected neither was she. Obviously she was interested in him—she’d blown his phone up with texts and voice mails the last couple of days. And he couldn’t deny the feelings he was starting to have for her.

But the timing was terrible.

I don’t know how the married guys do it, he thought. Add kids and a dog or two and how is a guy supposed to do his job and make time to meet everyone’s needs?

He passed through the hotel lobby and doglegged left toward the Starbucks. He spied Maria through the glass doors, standing inside and seemingly lost in thought. In the split second before she noticed him, he saw a facet of her he’d not seen before. She looked . . . vulnerable. Not physically but like an elementary schooler looks waiting alone on the sidewalk for the bus to arrive—brave with duty and expectation yet anxious because, well, what if the bus fails to come? The epiphany moved him, and he felt a strong pull of attraction for her.

“Jed!” she called and trotted over to give him a hug the instant he crossed the threshold into the coffee shop.

“Hi,” he said, grinning, and wrapped his arms around her as she threw herself against him.

“I missed you,” she said, her head turned to the side, cheek settled in the little crook between his shoulder and pectoral muscle.

“I missed you too,” he said with a little laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she said, chuckling but pulling back to look up at him.

“Well, it’s not like I’ve been off to war or something. It was just a three-week training evolution.”

“So . . . I’m not allowed to miss you unless it’s a month or longer?” she said, her tone defensive but her smile playful.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said and quickly redirected. “You look really good by the way.”

And she did, dressed in black leggings and a fuzzy rose-colored fleece. She had her hair pulled back into a sporty ponytail and was wearing Nike trainers.

She demurred. “Really? These are just my workout clothes.”

“Yeah, well, you look hot.”

“Thanks,” she said, her cheeks instantly flushing with color.

“Should we order?” he said, turning toward the counter. “What do you want? My treat.”

“That’s sweet, thank you,” she said, gave him her request, and set off to grab them a table.