A/N: I keep changing the story. I want to work with a married couple, so I guess these two are my guinea pig. Also, this is fiction, so some things might be inaccurate, but any of those are for the sake of the story.

Summary: Injured Navy pilot Tim Riamo didn't expect his estranged wife to take care of him while he was grounded. Still, he refuses to change his mind about ending their marriage…

CJ Riamo doesn't blame her husband for ending their marriage. It was only after she lost him that she realized that she had taken him for granted. It seems like he isn't interested in working things out. Or is he?

Chapter 1

Norfolk, Virginia

Most Navy men who spent their careers at sea were pretty much used to taking care of themselves. Some of them even learned early on the basic skills like cooking.

Which Tim was currently attempting. Not easy to do in crutches and a cast on his leg. He had to grip the kitchen counter by the stove to keep his balance as he stirred his plans for dinner that night.

Scowling, he tried his best to keep his weight on his right side, minding his left leg bound in a cast.

Stupid thing wasn't going to come off for at least a month, according to the doctor. His damn injury had grounded him for weeks. Tim didn't like being grounded. He'd spent nearly all his life preparing to be a pilot. He loved it way too much. Being unable to fly just plain sucked.

He reached over to turn the stove's temperature down. His cooking skills were decent, but having to watch his balance during the whole time didn't make it easy. Tim had taken probably three times as long as most people would just for food preparation alone. The kitchen was a mess and didn't smell at all like the stir-fry he was hoping for.

The doorbell rang.

He grit his teeth. Great. Just what he needed. Visitors. He turned the stove off and hopped to the sink, washing his hands.

It rang again.

"Just a minute!" he shouted, hoping the sound would carry through one of the open windows in the house.

He reached for his crutches, knocking one over, wincing as it clattered to the floor. Cursing, he bent slightly to retrieve it as the doorbell rang again.

What the fu…people can't wait? he thought inwardly as he hobbled to the front door, prepared to tell whoever it was off.

The last person he expected to see was his estranged wife.

"Hey, flyboy."

CJ.

Instantly, like the speed of mach 2, everything he'd blocked out the past year came flooding back. His body froze as memories entered his mind like flashbulbs of paparazzi, everything they had shared in this house and over the years. His throat tightened as he realized that in spite of what happened, he had missed her. So much. She was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Always had been. No matter what had happened between them.

His own reaction to her made him angry. "What the hell do you want?"

He couldn't help his eyes from traveling over her form. Noticing everything he hadn't seen in a year's worth of separation. From her black hair held back in a half ponytail, several long bangs falling to the left side of her forehead, how her silver wire-rimmed glasses framed rather than hid her large brown eyes, and those full lips curved in a small smile. The white camisole top she wore underneath her blue and green striped blouse clung to her body and was cut low enough so he could see the curves of her breasts. And the brown corduroy skirt she wore hugged her hips before flaring to show off very long, shapely legs. He couldn't do a damn thing but stare at her.

And considering what had happened between them, that just made him mad.

"You weren't always this grumpy," CJ commented, her smile still in place.

"It's probably because you're here," he shot back. "So get lost."

She hitched her traveling bag higher on her shoulder. "This is my house, too."

His eyes narrowed to slits. "Since when? You moved out a year ago." Since he realized that their marriage couldn't work. Since he realized that they didn't want the same things in a marriage. Since he told her that and she merely shrugged, packed up her bags and left.

"We never did make a prenup, so we both own this house," she reminded, stepping inside.

"You can't just walk in here." Tim braced his arm against the door. "You gave up your rights to this house the second you walked out."

"You didn't give me much of a choice," CJ argued. Then she took a deep breath. "Besides…I'm not here to talk about our marriage. I'm here to look after you."

"Forget it."

"You're not supposed to be on your feet," CJ countered.

He arched a brow. "You were always good at keeping me in bed. Whoever sent you knew what they were doing."

She gaped at his comment before propping one hand on her hip. He recognized that gesture as a sign of her argumentative or bossy tone of voice.

"I'm on vacation to help you recover," CJ responded coolly. "The faster you recover, the sooner you can get back in the sky, and you won't get any better by stressing yourself out."

"I'm fine on my own-"

"My commanding officer, as you know, happens to be the wife of your CO. She practically ordered me to take a vacation and look after you since her husband wants to see you back in the sky," CJ continued. She shook her head. "Don't make this difficult, all right?"

His scowl deepened. "I said I can handle it-"

"Your doctor, who also happens to outrank you, also agreed to my CO's proposition, Lieutenant," CJ interrupted, thrusting an envelope in his hand. "If you'd like to call the hospital right now to confirm-"

"Never mind." He snatched the letter from her and skimmed the contents. The letter, addressed to him, was signed by his physician indicating that he keep off his feet as much as he could and accept any help sent his way. The idea of having her around all the time…they'd be at each other throats constantly. Bad idea. Very bad. "Why you, anyway? Don't you have a clinic to work at?" CJ had begun practicing as a family physician not long before their separation.

"Because I know you. They figured I'd be the most logical choice to make sure you're doing what's needed to heal."

"How long are you going to be here?"

She lifted her shoulders. "Two weeks at least."

He clenched his jaw and pushed the door open farther. CJ walked inside, and as she brushed past him, he caught the scent of coconut. She always loved coconut stuff. When they were together, she always had a bottle of coconut shampoo in the bathroom. She headed to the guest room of the house before entering the kitchen.

Tim hobbled inside, watching her survey the modern kitchen with steel appliances.

"Well…I guess your cooking skills got worse over time." She poked at the burned items he'd prepared on a wok.

"You try cooking with a broken leg."

He tried not to think about how good she looked. How it felt seeing her again…in the very same house they bought together two years ago. In spite of the short time they had lived in it, they had made so many memories together. He clenched his fists around his crutches. Why did he did he feel this need to hold her? Why was she the only woman who brought this reaction out of him?

She sighed, shaking her head. "If you strain your right side to compensate for your left one, you won't do yourself any good. Why don't you sit down and I'll take over."

"I'm not a-"

"Don't argue about something as small as this, all right?" She took a small bite of his experiment. "Hm. It's not too bad. Why don't you go sit down and I'll bring this out to you?"

"No thanks. I-"

"Tim…" She came to a stop in front of him. "You're already exerting yourself." CJ raised a hand, touching her fingertips to his forehead, dotted with perspiration. She gently placed the back of her hand to his cheek, and he nearly groaned at the contact. "You're warm. Go lie down."

Come with me, he thought. Wait a minute! What the hell are you thinking? You're separated, remember?

Deciding it was best to retreat, he forced his thoughts out and shook his head. "I'll be in the family room."

"Fine. But rest."

He turned away clumsily and made his way into the family room. CJ retrieved a can of soda for him and a plate of food before following him. He had turned on the TV to watch sports highlights and muttered a 'thanks' to her when she handed him his food before going back to the kitchen to clean up.

Once in the kitchen, CJ leaned back against the refrigerator door, staring up at the ceiling, her chest tightening with emotion. She had no idea that seeing him again would be this difficult.

He looked miserable being grounded like this. His amber eyes seemed hollow and his copper-colored skin seemed paler compared to his usual healthy tan. Other than that, he looked fine.

When the hospital called her two weeks ago to tell her that he had been in a car accident, she had been so frightened. She had hurried to the hospital and was relieved to see that the worst that had happened was a broken leg and several bumps and bruises. She had been too afraid to step in his room, so she merely peeked inside to make sure he was all right. CJ knew that he wouldn't want her there. He'd made his opinion very clear a year ago when he told her their marriage was over.

Her eyes closed as she fought back tears. She'd realized at the hospital that she had never really admitted out loud…even to him…that she loved him.

Growing up with a mother who'd remarried six times…CJ thought that a solid marriage was based only on respect. No fireworks, not passion, not love. Those emotions just made a marriage complicated. Plenty of military couples got married with someone compatible to their life plans. Passion, love, all that didn't matter.

But those mattered to him. She hadn't been ready for something like that. The man she had thought would make an appropriate husband didn't even consider himself her husband anymore. It was ironic, that she realized how much he had meant to her once he was gone from her life.

She had been a career officer, through and through. Her Navy career was had been the most important thing to her and she had thought marrying someone who would understand that would only help her career. She had married him, thinking that a marriage with two people who shared the same goals in life could live happily together.

How wrong she had been. As much as a good marriage lasted on respect and understanding, what made a great marriage was the love on top of that.

Taking a deep breath, she proceeded to clean the kitchen by washing the dishes and wiping the counters. Once the kitchen was clean, she went to the guest room to unpack her things. The closet was empty. He usually would hang his uniforms in the guest room since they took up too much space in the bedroom closet. But now that she was gone, there was plenty of space in the bedroom.

After a quick glance into their old bedroom, she saw that he had changed the sheets since she had left. What was once a color scheme of rich blues and greens was now simple black and gray. Blue had always been her favorite color. She wondered if he changed the sheets because of that.

She sighed, sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed that had been sloppily made. She smiled ruefully. He hated leaving the bed a mess. Every morning, he'd always make the bed.

How many times had they lain together on this? They had bonded very well physically. Sex had always been exciting with him. They'd always manage to find some time together when he wasn't at sea.

CJ moved towards the family room to see that Tim hadn't even touched his meal. He was currently asleep on the couch, his left leg propped on the cushions. Unable to help herself, she settled next to him, raising her hand to feel his forehead. He wasn't even saying anything and she already felt drawn to him. It was his attitude that first attracted her – he embraced life with a spontaneity and carefree manner. Very different than her usual organized world. He'd never been one for poetic romance, instead he always showed his dedication as a husband through his actions, direct words, and in the way he looked at her.

She'd missed his devilish teasing nature. Combined with his physical appeal, he was dangerous to any woman's senses. She reached out, smoothing away short, blue-black bangs from his forehead before her eyes traveled over the white T-shirt he wore. The light overhead illuminated the family room, and she could see the shadow of his hard chest.

It had hurt…going to the hospital and knowing that she no longer had the right to be there at his side. She had lost a lot for holding on to her pride. When she looked up, she saw that his eyes were open.

A sleepy smile crossed his lips and he leaned his cheek into her palm. "Hey, honey…"

CJ smiled softly, her eyes misting again. "Hi yourself, handsome." She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his forehead.

Slowly, he raised one hand to draw her closer to him. She released a sigh at the touch of his lips on her jawline and cheek.

"You feel nice…" he murmured.

A year seemed to have fallen away as he kissed her lips hungrily. CJ slowly ran her hands up his chest before her fingers tangled in his hair. Heat curled in her belly and spine, moving lower.

Suddenly, Tim's entire body became stiff and uncompromising. He quickly pulled away, pushing her away from him.

"Dammit."

CJ cleared her throat, getting to her feet. "I'm sorry…I…I didn't-"

"You're here to look after me, nothing else," he snapped. "Stay away from me."

He couldn't have been that half-asleep! She propped her hands on her hips. "Let's make a deal. You don't call me any endearments, and I won't touch you unless it's in a clinical manner."

His eyes widened. "I didn't say anything."

"Yes, you did."

"I must have been dreaming."

She looked away. It never occurred to CJ that he might be seeing other women during their separation. But the prickle of jealousy faded when the logical part of her brain told her that if there was another woman in his life, said lover would be here and not her.

She quickly left the room. What else could she say? Nothing.