Meant for Her by Amy Gamet

white stretch limousine, a large “Just Married” banner hanging from its trunk.
    Hank stood in the cold and watched the tail lights disappear into the night. Norah and Steve had headed home an hour earlier, anxious to get back to their lives in Boston.
    That meant there was another bedroom available at the house, if he chose to use it. Hank suspected Julie would share his bed tonight if he asked her.
    He knew it was wrong to sleep with someone he was protecting as an officer of the Navy, someone who might be involved in this case more than he would like. Hell, who was he kidding? She was definitely involved. It was just a matter of degree. Hank shivered in the cold and cursed the situation.
    The church doors behind him opened and closed.
    “Hi,” said Julie.
    And he knew.
    Julie Trueblood had gotten under his skin, maybe even into his heart. How the hell had that happened? Why did it have to be this woman who affected him so strongly?
    He turned to see her standing on the steps of the church, her blue dress swirling in a light breeze, snowflakes twirling in the air between them.
    “Merry Christmas, Hank,” she said, smiling lightly. “It’s just after midnight.”
    He would remember this moment always—how she looked—how it tore him up inside. “Merry Christmas, Julie.”
    “Are you ready?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Your mom needs some help loading up the car.” Julie opened the church door and waited for him to come inside. “Kelly and Ron get off okay?”
    Hank nodded. “They said goodbye.”
    “It was a good day,” she said, smiling at Hank and resting her hand on his back as they headed downstairs together. “You did good, Hank.”
    “We all did.” They reached the bottom of the stairwell and Hank held the door for her.
     ~~~
    An hour later, the group walked into Marianne’s kitchen. Julie slipped off her high heels and covered a yawn. “I’m exhausted.”
    “Me too. Let’s go to bed,” said Hank.
    Julie’s head snapped up at his suggestion. “I need a few minutes to unwind.”
    Marianne opened a cupboard and withdrew a round bottle. “Nightcap, anyone?”
    “Chambord,” said Gwen appreciatively as she pulled back a chair. “Absolutely.”
    “Yes, please,” said Julie.

“Why not,” said Hank, closing his eyes.
    “If you’re tired, you can go ahead,” said Julie.
    “I got my second wind.”
    Marianne stifled a laugh as she poured the drinks into cordial glasses. They were a heavy cut crystal in pale pink, each one shaped like a tiny vase.
    “Marianne, these are precious,” said Gwen.
    “They were my mother’s.”
    “Just lovely. Really.”
    Hank thought of the china cabinet in the dining room, chock full of crystal, and wondered how long the women were going to stay up.
    Julie rubbed her neck with her hand, and Hank saw his opening, walking behind her to rub her shoulders. She made little sounds of pleasure as he worked her tired muscles, her skin warm and smooth beneath his strong hands.
    “Sure you don’t want to go to bed?” he whispered in her ear.
    Julie straightened her shoulders abruptly and lightly shook off his hands. He stepped away, his ego stinging from her response.
    “It has been a long day. I think I am going to go to bed,” he said.
    “Goodnight, Hank,” said Julie sweetly.
    Once upstairs, he undressed in a huff. Hank had wrestled with his conscience and fully committed himself to breaking the rules, only to realize that Julie had no intention of coming to bed with him.
    What kind of game was she playing? It seemed her affection was directly related to the size of their audience. He shouldn’t have listened to his mother. He had been right all along. Julie was playing the role he had asked her to play, and was not interested in a real relationship with him.
    “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he said to himself as he stepped into the shower. He let the hot water run over his head and flow down his face before he grabbed a bar of soap and worked up a heavy lather