Thunder Running by Rebecca Crowley

her arms around herself in a desperate attempt to make them stop.
    Chance tightened his grip, pulling her against his side. “What’s wrong, sugar? Was that too much gory detail? I’m sorry, I tend to forget that—”
    â€œI can’t do this.” The words were high-pitched and squeaky, barely above a whisper. She squeezed her eyes shut, overcome by the humiliation and irrepressibility of her admission.
    â€œCan’t do what, Tara?”
    The answers were all there in her mind— I can’t let you go so soon after I found you, I can’t breathe without knowing you’re safe, I can’t survive losing you now that I know you’re the only man I could ever love —but they got stuck on the way to her mouth. She began to speak, stopped, tried again, started over.
    â€œJust…all this…with everything… I’m having a hard time. I’m sorry.”
    â€œDon’t worry about it.” He drew her into his chest for a quick hug, but when he released her it was with an unfamiliar awkwardness and left her feeling like there were ten miles between them instead of ten inches.
    â€œLet’s get the rest of the stuff on the list and head home. We can talk later, okay?” He resumed his position behind the cart and briskly pushed it down the aisle without waiting for a response. She had to hustle to keep up with him, trailing at his heels like an ignored dog who’d chewed up his shoes one time too many.
    The door was cracked open but Chance knocked anyway, half-hoping the captain might be busy and tell him to come back later.
    â€œCome in.”
    He swallowed a pang of disappointment and stepped inside. Ethan continued typing for another second, hit send on an e-mail and swiveled to greet him, his preppy, Abercrombie-model face brightening, then darkening as he registered his visitor.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    â€œGood afternoon to you too, Captain Fletcher.”
    â€œSpare me. Sit down.” Ethan kicked the chair out from his side of the desk so that Chance had to sidestep to avoid it hitting his shins. He shut the door behind him and dropped into it, bracing himself for a difficult conversation with his old friend.
    â€œSo?”
    â€œSo what? Can’t a guy just stop in to see his buddy?”
    Ethan crossed his arms. “You knocked.”
    â€œI’m polite.”
    â€œI guess that’s why your usual entrance involves slamming that door on its hinges and at least three profanities. What’s up?”
    He sighed, acquiescent. “Remember that woman I told you about a couple weeks ago? Tara?”
    â€œNo, I forgot that wild story about the sudden appearance of your legal wife.” Ethan rolled his eyes.
    â€œYeah, well, she’s still here. And I think I want her to be. Here. While I’m gone. I got her a spousal ID, I added her to my bank account, the whole shebang. She seems to like the idea too. She seems to like me.”
    Ethan grinned. “That’s great, McKinley. It’s about time you found someone who can put up with you for more than ten minutes.”
    Chance ignored Ethan’s attempt at humor. “How are things with you and Mia?”
    â€œGood. Really good. Amazing, actually. She’s applying for a new research grant that would get her back out here in January.”
    â€œThat’s awesome,” he enthused. Ethan had taken a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn for the better since he’d gotten together with the postdoctoral psychologist, and that was what had prompted Chance to stop by his office today. “Can I ask you something?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œHow did you know when to—or when you were—y’know, in love and stuff. Like serious love, not just infatuation or lust or whatever.”
    Ethan glanced away, cheeks coloring. “I’m not really an expert on that kind of thing, I wouldn’t presume to—” He stopped