by Tawny Weber
He drew a deep breath. "I have to make sure all the players know this contract on you and Rob has been withdrawn."
"You're part of this thing," she said, her head swimming. "They'll be coming after you, too."
"They think I'm a mercenary. They'll figure all they have to do with me is buy my silence."
"And if you're wrong?"
"I'm not wrong. But to insure the kill order has been withdrawn from all of us, I'll have the same chat with the other eleven that I had with Renata."
"Sneak through their security? Get close and personal?" She shuddered. "They're going to tighten security. They'll be watching for you. Each visit will only get more dangerous."
"I've done stuff like this half asleep while dodging bullets."
Her arms tightened across her middle and she swallowed hard. "I don't want you dodging bullets for me."
He looked her deep in the eye. "And I can't live knowing I didn't do all I could to make you safe."
Emotion balled up in her throat and tears scratched at her eyes. "How do you think I'd feel if I lost you?"
"You fix people, Bliss. I protect them. If you aren't here to do your fixing, I have no one to protect."
"Jake…"
"Trust me. Please."
And one more time, she did.
Chapter 15
Two weeks. That's how long Jake had been gone—how long she'd been wiling her time away at the compound. He checked in daily…with Asher or Fitch. But he never asked to speak to her.
She'd tried plotting out her next Cooper book. But she couldn't seem to get a grip on where the story was going, kind of like her relationship with Jake.
So she cooked.
Beef stew, fried chicken, bar-b-que ribs, American style spaghetti. For breakfast, she prepared sunny-side up eggs, frittatas, pancakes with agave syrup. Some of the guys were threatening to get her a waffle iron so she could make them waffles with strawberries.
And she baked. Peanut butter cookies, chocolate cake, cinnamon rolls with sugary icing. The team loved having her around—loved the treats she'd pack for them to take on their jobs. But it was all busy work for her, something to keep her hands and her mind occupied.
She turned out a pan of sticky buns on the cutting board. Almost immediately three team members crowded into the kitchen.
"They're hot," Bliss warned through a smile she meant but didn't feel.
She'd come to think of these men as her boys, though many were older than her and most had families back home. She wished she could say the same, that she had someone waiting for her. She doubted she'd ever have that.
Heck, she'd settle for the safe return of the man she waited for. Jake.
Rob, on the other hand, was enjoying his heightened status among the team since they discovered how far his computer talents went. She suspected he'd found his place in the world, and it wasn't back in snowy, windy Chicago.
Dozer juggled a hot bun, ouching and nibbling at the sweet. His size alone had scared her when she'd first seen him. Now she knew what a softy he was. The smile hanging on her lips stretched a bit.
Maybe she wouldn't have to leave. If she couldn't get Jake to come back to the civilized world, maybe he'd let her stay in this world—his world.
Out in the common room, the front door opened, drawing the guys out of the kitchen. A chorus of "Jake" following.
Her heart skipped a beat. She bolted for the common room, but caught herself in the kitchen doorway. He was thin, his eyes bloodshot. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. He likely hadn't. The sight of him told her his was not a world one lived in.
She stepped out of the kitchen, catching his eye. "Is it over?"
He laid his HK on the dining table and looked away. "I didn't get to all twelve. But the four I left unvisited won't have a restful night's sleep for several months worrying I'll yet visit. They all got the message."
"And that means?" Bliss asked, taking a step closer.
"You two can get back to your lives."
"What if I want to stay here?" Rob asked, rising from the computer bank. "If I want to keep working for you?"
"The job is yours, kid," Jake said, eyes still fixed on Bliss. "I especially need someone to test the hackability of our security systems."
"And me?" she asked.
"There's no place here for you."
The team members witnessing their exchange quietly retreated.
He looked her in the eye, his resigned—empty. "I've booked a couple seats on a flight back to the States. It leaves this afternoon. You'll be in Chicago by nightfall."
"A couple seats?" she asked, but not hopefully. She didn't think he'd reserved one for himself. She was right.
He looked at Rob. "You should go with your sister and settle what needs settling back home. Take however much time you need."
"You look like you could use some time off to settle things yourself, Jake," she said.
He blew out a weary breath, picked up the HK, and lumbered toward the courtyard door. "Right now I need to clean my weapons and get some sleep."
She caught the door before it closed behind him, dogged him as he headed for the armory.
"What about us, Jake?"
"Not now."
"You're sending me away this afternoon."
He punched in the armory security code.
"When you're done cleaning your gun, you're going to sleep and, from the look of you, it'll be the sleep of the dead."
He entered the armory.
She followed. "If not now, when?"
He set down the HK, braced his hands against the cabinet and closed his eyes. "There can't be an us."
"Why?"
He exhaled a long breath. "You distract me, Bliss—make me feel things. You're everything I'm afraid to lose."
She knocked one of his hands from the cabinet, making him look at her. "And you think it's better to deny yourself what you want because you might lose it?"
"Go home, Bliss. Find yourself a nice guy who'll fall in love with you."
"You really think I'd be happy with nice?"
"You'd be safe."
She looked into his eyes. "Safe isn't all it's cracked up to be, not when it means I can't be with the man I love."
He shook his head. "Damn it, Bliss. When you're in danger, all subjectivity goes out the window for me. I go commando. You saw what happened in that alley when my emotions took over."
"Yeah, to a bad guy who attacked someone you cared about."
"That's all I know. Defend. Protect. Attack."
"No. That's not all you know how to do, Jake. And you know it, or you wouldn't spend your vacation time kissing little girls' brows."
"So I decompress with my family a week or two out of the year. That's all it is. You think you see more in me because you want family. So go and find a man with a family like you want."
"I already have."
"Damn it, Bliss, I'm not that man."
Frustration and anger came together in her chest and climbed her throat. "You're a coward."
His shoulders snapped back, his chin came up, and his jaw clenched.
"I never thought I'd call a Navy SEAL a coward," she went on. "But you're running away from what you want because you're afraid you don't deserve it—afraid to find out you do and that you'll lose it, and that's taking the coward's way out."
"Goodbye, Bliss," he said through clenched teeth.
Tears welled in her eyes. She couldn't make him come with her, but…
"If you ever find the courage to join the civilized world, Jake St. John, you know where to find me."
Chapter 16
Finding it easier to work alone of late, Jake gave himself the assignment of sweeping the client's bedroom for bugs, leaving the more extensive office sweep to the other team members. It'd been over three months since he'd sent Bliss back to Chicago, and damned if the woman wasn't still distracting him. All the emotions she'd raised in him should have faded away by now, not still be nagging at him—di
stracting him.
Which was the reason he'd taken the less extensive search of the bedroom. The bad guys planted the most intricate devices where the business was done. In bedrooms they generally only listened in for pillow talk…and cheap thrills. In short, this was a job he could do in his sleep. No concerns any distractions might make him miss something.
He ran his wand around the pictures on the wall. Family shots. One made him stop and stare.
It was of the patron of the house, his wife, and their four children posed in the courtyard. Their body language suggested a closeness that reminded him of Dixie and Sam and how they related with Ben and Emma.
A deep sadness gripped him. If he could have made his life work with any woman, it would have been Bliss.
But Bliss deserved better. She'd had enough struggles in her life. She didn't need a man who could only add more.
Still…
He touched the painted cheek of the single girl child in the portrait and that hole he'd told Bliss about filled with an ache so profound, it nearly brought him to his knees. Bliss had nailed it. He did want what his brothers and sister had. She'd also been right about him being a coward for not going after it. Where she'd been wrong is that he wasn't afraid of finding out whether or not he deserved that kind of happiness. What he feared was losing it, and there were so many ways what he wanted could be taken from him…or that he could mess it up. He knew. He'd already walked away from one perfect life.
Something alerted him. A sound. A scent. The change in air flow through the room.
In one fluid motion, he dropped his handheld detector, pulled his Sig from its holster, and swung it at the doorway, finger heavy on the trigger.
The child in the open doorway screamed, the little girl from the portrait. He stood there, finger frozen on the trigger as though any movement would release the firing mechanism. And the child kept screaming. And Jake couldn't move.
In a blur, Dozer crossed the opening, scooping the child out of the crosshairs. Another body in fatigues and black tee did an in and out, gun drawn. When Ash reappeared, he edged into the room, keeping himself out of line with Jake's gun barrel.
"What's happening, Jake," Ash said as he slowly advanced toward him.
Jake swallowed hard. "I almost shot that little girl."
"Everything's okay now, Buddy," Ash said, his voice low, calm. "You can holster your weapon."
Jake shook his head. "I can't."
"Yes you can. The kid is safe. Nothing went sideways here. Lower your weapon."
"It-it's like I'm afraid if I move it'll go off."
Ash holstered his weapon, moved in alongside Jake, and closed his hands over Jake's, easing the barrel toward the floor.
"I've got it now, Jake. You can let go."
Jake released the weapon and dropped to his knees, shaking. "What the hell is happening to me?"
Ash squatted next to him. "What's been happening, Jake, is your team has been covering for you. You're distracted. You're short-tempered with everyone. You've been isolating yourself. And today, you broke."
Jake slumped, hands covering his head like he didn't want to hear what Ash was telling him, even though he knew everything his friend was saying was the truth.
"You haven't been yourself since you sent Bliss away," Ash said, dropping a heavy hand on Jake's shoulder. "Step down. Take some time away. Get your head back on straight…wherever it needs to be."
Snow blanketed Chicago under gray skies as Bliss waited through the holidays. Winds raised icy waves across Lake Michigan and she cried on Claire's shoulder more than she'd ever cried on anyone's shoulder.
In January, Lu broached the topic of her coming out as J.B. Cooper in time for the release of the second book in the series. She refused and curled up in front of the television and watched her favorite tear-jerker movies.
Come February, ice-coated branches glistened beneath blue skies and Bliss pondered once more the third installment in the Cooper series only to find the ending still elusive.
Vi called, reminding her she had a contract obligation for a romantic suspense, and she forced herself to deal with another fantasy. Even though her heart wasn't fully in it, writing did for her what baking hadn't. It moved her forward, if only at a snail's pace.
There were always setbacks on the days Rob contacted her, still keeping in touch weekly. They even had a SKYPE connection now. Often times, the guys she'd met during her stay at the compound poked their heads into camera range to say 'hi'.
Jake never did.
Rob mostly talked about what was going on at the compound, at least the stuff Jake had given him permission to share. All he ever said about Jake was that he was okay. She could tell Rob had been ordered to share nothing of his boss with her. Rob was a bad liar.
But even the mention of Jake's name tore at the scab of Bliss' longing. And when Rob had revealed in late March that Jake had taken an extended vacation, visiting his family, she'd lost a week of work waiting for him to show up at her door.
But he hadn't, and a testiness wove its way into her longing.
April showers came and went. She sent in a draft of her latest romantic suspense just as the proofs for the second Cooper book arrived. She edited through the book she and Jake had worked on together, resigned that he would always be in her heart, if not her life. If anything, she'd always have the fantasy of Nick Savage.
A bitter laugh escaped her. Like Savage could ever replace Jake.
She tried to take comfort in knowing Jake was taking a break from his dark world. He deserved to find peace. She believed that. But she found it impossible to find her own peace in the knowledge that he apparently didn't want her to be part of whatever his future held.
Move on.
Those two words had become her mantra. But with them always came a twinge of resentment. How could he turn his back on her after all they'd been through?
The timer on the stove sounded. She headed out of her office, Rob's old room. Removing the cinnamon rolls from the oven and placing them on the cooling rack gave her a sense of déjà vu. She'd made cinnamon rolls the day she'd gone off to Mexico with Jake.
The doorbell rang. She'd told Claire to come by this morning for fresh rolls. She pasted on a smile and opened the door. "You're early. The rolls aren't iced ye—"
The words caught in her throat. It wasn't Claire standing in the hall, but Jake with his unmistakable St. John eyes staring back at her.
"Your neighbor let me in," he said.
She gaped at him.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
Months of stripped bare emotions—of unfulfilled longing and contained anger sent her flying at him, fists swinging. He held his ground as she hammered his chest and cursed him.
"Damn you, St. John. You've been in the states over a month and you're just now coming to see me?"
He said nothing, just stood there letting her pound away at him.
"Say something, damn it!"
He covered both her hands with one of his and stilled them against his chest and, when he spoke, it was in a voice so tender it took her back to the night they'd made love—to the words he'd spoken when he'd thought she was asleep and wouldn't hear them.
I nearly lost you tonight.
They'd meant as much to her as if he'd said he loved her. And the words he spoke now on her threshold held the same meaning.
"I needed time to be sure I could be the man you saw in me."
A sob tore from her throat and she threw her arms around his neck and clamped her legs around his hips.
"Does this mean I can come in?" he asked.
Between kisses she said, "Yes, you fool."
He stepped over the threshold into her apartment, holding her, hugging her, kissing her back as he had the night they'd had furious sex and later made love. At some point her feet found the floor and their lips parted. She looked up into his amazing eyes, saw they were no longer haunted by regrets.
He thumbed away her tears. "You were right. I
have been afraid to risk finding out whether or not I deserve what I want."
She cupped his face in her hands, hopeful she was part of his resolution. "Have you found your answer?"
He closed the door behind him and prodded her to take a seat on the couch. "I have something to show you."
He placed a laptop she hadn't noticed he'd been carrying on the coffee table in front of her.
"I haven't seen you in six months and you want to show me something on a computer?"
"Trust me," he said, plugging something into a port on her big flat screen TV.
She'd trusted him time and again in the past. Trusting him yet again, she settled back and watched him as he turned on the television and went through the process of syncing it with his computer.
As he sat on the edge of the couch beside her, typing at his keyboard, she snuggled in close to him, soaking in the warmth of his presence, breathing in the pure manly scent of him, studying the confidence in his profile. He settled back into the couch with her, moving his computer to his lap with one hand and slipping his free arm around her.
He tapped one last time on his computer and said, "Here we all are."
"We? All?" Bliss questioned, lifting her head from his shoulder and her eyes toward the TV screen he smiled at.
Five live shots of people populated her television screen, most blond with the same brilliant blue eyes as Jake St. John. He tapped a command on his laptop and the box with an older couple smiling out at her, the woman sharing Jake's eyes, enlarged.
"Mom, Dad, this is Bliss O'Hara. Bliss, these are my parents, Sarah and Joe St. John."
Bliss reached out, for a moment, forgetting they weren't within handshaking distance, and turned the gesture into a wave. "Nice to meet you."
Sarah St. John tilted her face closer, her smile warm. "So nice to meet you at last, Bliss. We've heard so many wonderful things about you."
"Ditto," said the man with his arm around her who'd raised Jake as his own, his face kind, his eyes wise. "And thank you for helping our boy find his way home."
What the heck had Jake told them that they thought her responsible for any decision Jake made?