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“Your father would move heaven and earth to convince you to come back,” Bud mused, watching Trace rather than his wife and Chrissie. “He’s hoping you’re home to stay.”

Trace frowned. “We both know I’ll be leaving as soon as I’m given my next assignment. My father doesn’t understand.”

Bud shook his head. “You’re right. He doesn’t. Not many do.”

Trace’s eyes shifted toward the older man. “You saying you don’t? Because I wouldn’t believe you. You of all people understand the need to do more than just accept things for the way they are. This organization is testament to that.”

“Agnes and CCPO are my life.” One side of Bud’s mouth tugged upward. “Then again, at one time the Marine Corps was my life, too. I served time overseas and wouldn’t trade those memories and the brothers I gained for anything. I think we accomplished a lot of good things, but that doesn’t mean I’d go back. Sometimes we have to let go of one thing we care about to make room for another.” He glanced lovingly at his wife.

Trace cocked his brow at the older man. “You trying to tell me you don’t think I should go?”

Bud shrugged. “Only you know the answer to whether or not you should go back.” He nodded toward where Chrissie and Agnes still talked, obviously catching up. “Maybe it’s time you find a reason to want to stay home rather than go as far away as possible.”

“Those people need help every bit as much as the kids you’re raising money for,” Trace pointed out, not acknowledging Bud’s claim that he might have been running from something when he’d signed on to Doctors Around the World. “They’re innocent victims of governments and wars they have no control over.”

“Civilians are always the innocent victims of war,” Bud agreed. “You do what you feel is right for you, son. All I’m saying is that there is a lot of good you can do here, too. I just think you need to keep that in mind, because I’m not convinced going back is the right choice for you.”

Trace eyed the older man suspiciously. “You’re sure Dad didn’t put you up to trying to talk me into staying?”

Bud laughed. “I won’t say he’s never mentioned hoping you’d stay to me, but I’m speaking for myself.”

Trace nodded. He’d figured as much. His successful businessman father would probably fund Bud’s charity for the next fifty years if he could convince Trace to stay in Atlanta.

Which would be a good reason to stay, if it didn’t mean having to deal with his father on a regular basis.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Blondie is looking your way.”

Trace had noticed. Hard not to notice those intense emerald eyes studying him. He could feel her interest, could feel her body’s reaction to him.

The same interest and reaction he was having to her.

Obviously, the chemistry they’d shared still burned hot.

So, why had she given him the cold shoulder?

* * *

Chrissie ordered her gaze to remove itself from Trace. Unfortunately, her eyes didn’t seem connected to her brain.

Why did he have to be so hot? Those amazing eyes just sucked her in. Rich, warm toffee that made her want to melt.

She was melting.

No wonder she’d lost her mind four years ago. Trace was hot. Scorching, melt-a-woman-all-the-way-to-her-toes hot.

Chrissie’s toes were ooey-gooey puddles in her shoes.

“It’s good to have Trace back with us, too, isn’t it?”

Oops. Obviously, Agnes noticed her distraction and had no compunction on commenting.

Chrissie dragged her gaze away from Trace and focused on the older woman, who was watching her curiously. Something told her the woman wouldn’t buy it if she pretended not to know what she referred to. After all, Chrissie and Trace had only had eyes for each other four years ago. No doubt every volunteer there had picked up on their attraction.

“Where’s he been?” she asked.

Agnes’s concerned gaze went to Trace. “For the past couple of years? Yemen.”

Surprise hit Chrissie. “Yemen?”

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