No Rules

by Starr Ambrose

  She felt better by the time the lights of the first police helicopter winked in the night sky. Donovan still remained close, her self-appointed guardian. Kyle and Mitch dragged Evan’s body up the stairs and laid it out on the sand. She looked away but couldn’t escape the pain of knowing that her father had been betrayed by his best friend.

  “Do you think Wally suspected?” she asked.

  He didn’t have to ask what she was talking about. “We may never know.”

  She hoped he hadn’t. She lifted a hand to smooth the lines of pain beside his mouth. “He had other friends. I’m glad he knew you,” she told him.

  He smiled sadly. “So am I.” Then squeezing her hand, he added, “And I’m glad I know his daughter.”

  It warmed her heart far more than it should. With the mission over and no promises between them, she doubted their paths would ever cross again, and she could already sense the gaping hole that would leave in her life. She would have to get used to the pain, because it was never going to go away.

  It was more than sheer weariness that allowed Jess to lay her chair back on the flight home and fall asleep before reaching cruising altitude. She didn’t need the usual Dramamine or wine or Ambien to relax. She didn’t even need Tyler’s distracting male aura to take her mind off flying. Somehow the drama and adventure of her time in Luxor had taken away any worries about what she might face next and how she would get there. It turned out that getting the most out of each moment in life beat chewing her fingernails over the hundred ways it might all go wrong.

  She slept through their refueling in Paris and woke up somewhere over the Atlantic. Donovan was in the seat next to her and appeared to have been watching her as she slept.

  “Hi,” he said quietly. “Sleep well?”

  She nodded, righting her chair and smiling. “Great.”

  He returned her smile, but something felt different. He was more remote, more emotionally distant than he’d been in Luxor. Separating from her. No matter what she felt for him or how much it hurt, he didn’t have to worry. She knew how to be a big girl.

  “So what’s next for you?” she asked brightly. “Another mission?”

  He blinked a couple times, apparently doing a mental U-turn. “I don’t know. We have to meet with lawyers and reestablish Omega’s leadership. Wally had hoped I would take Evan’s place someday, but I didn’t expect that day to come so soon. I don’t know if I’m ready to leave the field.” He watched her with an expression that seemed carefully blank. “What about you?”

  “I have a book that’s almost done, so I’ll be at the drawing board for the next couple weeks. After that, I’m not sure. I had plans for more books in the Mossy Log Meadow series, but I’m not excited about starting them. Maybe I’ll take a break, reevaluate some things.”

  He nodded seriously as if this was terribly insightful and interesting. Then he was quiet for a minute, staring at the seat in front of him. She looked out the window at the clouds.

  “Jess…” She turned toward him, saw the awkwardness. “We should probably talk about what happened.”

  It wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be to smile at him. She wasn’t happy, but she couldn’t stand to think he felt bad about anything they’d done. If he was sorry, she didn’t want to hear it. “No, we shouldn’t.”

  “But…”

  “It’s fine, Tyler, really. I had a great time, and I have a lot of great memories.” She doubted anyone else could hear them, but she whispered anyway. “You’re in the best ones.”

  He smiled then. “Liar. I know you. Being with me doesn’t beat out discovering the lost tomb of a pharaoh.”

  She tipped her head as if giving it serious consideration. “Ramesses VIII was cool, it’s true. But he sure didn’t do for me what you did.”

  He chuckled. “Too milquetoast for you?”

  “You know how it is, pharaohs are a dime a dozen in Egypt. Besides, he’s a bit stiff. I like someone a little livelier.”

  The tension was broken, at least enough of it to keep things comfortable through the rest of the trip.

  In Chicago she stayed for a day and a night, long enough to fill their ex-CIA operative-slash-trainer in on everything, reclaim her wardrobe, and sleep for ten hours. If Donovan came to her room that night, she never knew it, but she doubted that he had. He’d maintained a polite and friendly distance at the house. When Avery told her they had a private jet waiting to take her home the next day, he was there to give her a hug along with everyone else. He held her an extra few seconds and whispered, “You take care,” in her ear. Impulsively, she kissed his cheek. He’d shaved when they got back and it was the first time she’d kissed him and felt smooth skin. It didn’t take anything from the rough image of him she carried in her heart, the one she’d fallen in love with.

  She smiled and waved good-bye as she got into the chauffeured limo. Then cried quietly all the way to the airport.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Two Months Later

  Donovan slouched in the big swivel chair in Omega’s library, staring out the window at the thin ground cover of snow dotted with large patches of brown grass. Stupid excuse for winter. You couldn’t depend on snow in the Midwest, even in January. It should be five below with blizzard conditions, to match his mood.

  Or else summer, to cheer him up. With bright sun and cloudless skies. Palm trees, too. There were palm trees in Luxor.

  He groaned, disgusted with himself for letting his mind go there yet again.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  He turned away from the window. Avery stood in the center of the room, her brows knit with concern. Everyone had been solicitous with him since his return from Bolivia. Maybe too solicitous. He didn’t need to be pampered. “I’m fine. My leg’s fine. Doc wouldn’t have let me out if they hadn’t gotten the infection under control. Don’t worry about me.”

  She nodded. “So you’re fine.”

  “Like I said. But thanks for asking.”

  She didn’t go away. Leave me alone, he thought, mentally projecting the idea. He waited impatiently, trying to look relaxed and fine, but wasn’t sure if he succeeded because he couldn’t remember what fine felt like.

  Instead of leaving, Avery walked toward him. Ah, hell.

  Surprising him, she put her hands on the arms of his chair, holding it steady as she crouched in front of him. “Tyler, can I say something to you as a friend?”

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “Gee, I’m fond of you, too,” he said drily.

  “Go see her. Tell her how you feel.”

  He frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do, and don’t play dumb with me. I work with a bunch of macho guys so I try not to do the sensitive-girl stuff very often, but I’m making an exception for you ’cause you’re pissing me off. I’m talking about emotions, Tyler, and you’re going to listen because I’m sick of seeing you grumpy and sullen when you could be happy.”

  “I’m happy.”

  “You’re miserable.”

  “Thanks for letting me know. I have a right, you know. I had an open wound and a raging infection that nearly cost me my leg.”

  “I know, and I’m glad you’re better, but you were miserable before that, and that’s not why you’re still miserable. You need to see Jess, Tyler. You need to tell her how you feel.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know anything about it. Stay out of it.”

  “I have been staying out, but you’re my friend, and I don’t like seeing my friend eating his heart out day after day because he’s so goddamned, motherfucking stubborn.”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “Loosin’ that girl thing, there.”

  “You’ve all been a bad influence. Don’t change the subject. You have to tell Jess you love her. If she doesn’t say she loves you back, I’ll eat my ammo belt, but if she doesn’t, at least you can start to move on.”

  He didn’t
know how she knew, and he wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t say it out loud. Couldn’t say he didn’t love Jess when he loved her so much it hurt. It hurt worse than having a gunshot wound with a staph infection in the middle of a sweltering jungle. He closed his eyes and sighed with defeat.

  “Avery, Jess is Wally’s daughter, and you know what Wally said. A person in our line of work can’t afford to have a family. The emotional entanglements will trip him up, and he’ll end up hurting them all because he can’t be the husband and father they need him to be.”

  “And how’s that working for you? Seems to me you’re pretty tripped up by emotional entanglements anyway. And you’re both hurting.”

  “Wally said—”

  “Wally’s not here.” She cut him off curtly, maybe to get the shocked look of attention he gave her. “Wally’s not you. I loved the man to pieces, but he had a hard time separating his emotions from his work, and that’s kind of necessary in our business. Also, he had a wife who was emotionally fragile and more than a little crazy. I only knew Jess a week, but she doesn’t seem fragile to me.”

  “She’s not. She’s as strong and brave as you are. Maybe more.”

  Avery smiled. “Is that so?”

  “Damn right. Pretty determined about getting what she wants, too.”

  “Really. Then why not let her make up her own mind about what kind of life she wants and who she loves?”

  He just looked at her. Damn it, she had a point.

  She looked back at him, waiting.

  He closed his eyes in defeat. “Okay,” he told her. “I’ll go.”

  …

  Jess finished putting away the new winter clothes she’d bought, all except for the red cashmere sweater, which she put on. She admired it in the mirror, reassuring herself that she looked good in red. It contrasted nicely with the brown hair that fell to her shoulders, and it gave her complexion a healthy glow. She really should have been wearing red all along instead of all those pastels.

  Pastels were boring and safe. Red was bold, inviting excitement. She wanted to be red.

  The sweater looked even better in the warm glow of the lamps in the living room of her father’s house. She’d just put another log on the fire when the doorbell rang. She jerked upright, surprised. She didn’t know many people around here yet, and seven o’clock on a winter’s evening in the middle of a long-overdue snowstorm was an odd time to pop in on someone.

  Curious, she walked to the door and looked through the side window.

  She blew out a deep breath as if she’d been holding it for months. He really had come. She took a second to calm her nerves, then pasted a smile on her face and opened the door. “Hello, Tyler. Come in.”

  He stood in the doorway a moment, just looking at her face. Then at her sweater. Then back to her face. “You look nice. I’m not used to seeing you in anything but black.”

  Or nothing at all. It hung between them, unspoken, electrifying the air. Or maybe just her. He looked pretty composed as he stepped inside, brushing snow off his wool peacoat.

  “Can you stay awhile? I didn’t expect you so soon.”

  “You expected me?”

  “I knew you’d have to come for your motorcycle. I just didn’t know if you’d stop in to see me, or if you’d use your key to the garage and just…take it.”

  His lips quirked up in amusement. “Jess, there’s over a foot of snow out there and the roads are slick with drifting snow and black ice. I didn’t come for the bike.”

  “Oh.” She felt suddenly knocked off her stride. “I, uh, I don’t know much about driving in winter, or about riding motorcycles.” They sounded fun, though. Like they’d go with her red sweater. “Why did you come?”

  “I came to see you.”

  Her heart skipped a beat, eager for what it couldn’t have. Stupid heart. If what Tyler felt for her was anything close to what she felt for him, he would have been here before now. She skirted the topic. “How did you know I’d be here?”

  A rueful smile touched his mouth. “I didn’t. I went to Houston first. Even your mom didn’t know where you were.”

  She slapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp. “You talked to my mother?” God, she hoped it wasn’t one of Mom’s tin-foil-helmet days. The only thing worse would be if…“Oh, crap, does she know I’m here?”

  “She thinks you’re at a villa in Campeche, Mexico, working on your next series of books, just like you told her.”

  “Oh, thank God.”

  “You could have picked a smaller place. I checked with every villa and resort and hole-in-the-wall lodging in Campeche trying to find you…”

  “Are you serious?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m thorough.”

  He was, she remembered. In everything he did.

  “Wally’s house was the only other place I could think of. When I saw that it had been pulled from the market, I figured that meant you were here. Why didn’t you tell your mom?”

  “She separates herself from anything to do with my dad. I don’t think it’s personal so much as fear that he was either working for the government or against it. That makes his house a dangerous place to be, which switches on her paranoia, big-time. It’s easier if I don’t tell her.”

  He nodded, taking a few steps to the table that sat between the entry and the living room, running his hand over an elaborate hookah pipe that sat on it. “You haven’t changed anything.”

  “No, I…Oh, I see. You changed your mind about the contents of the house. Well, it’s all yours, so take whatever you want.”

  “I told you, I don’t want any of it. Wally only wanted to make sure I got anything to do with Omega. Everything else should belong to you.”

  “Thank you, that’s, uh…thanks. I kept everything as it was because I wanted to soak it all in, get to know him. I feel like you and Omega reintroduced me to my dad, and I want to learn more about that part of him that you knew.”

  “He’d like that.” He walked aimlessly around the living room, touching a book on the coffee table, a statue on the mantle. She knew he was remembering and said nothing, wishing she had things to remember, too. He finally stopped in the center of the big Persian rug and put his hands in his coat pockets. He looked completely at home, which seemed appropriate because he’d probably spent more time in this house than she had. “So are you working on the new books, like you told your mother?”

  “No. In fact, I’m not going to do those.”

  “What, no more Gordon Groundhog and the Safety Patrol?”

  “Afraid not.” She followed him into the living room as she talked. “Kids need to be aware of safety, but they need other things, too. As it turns out, so do I. I’m planning a series of adventure books, starting with one about the tombs of ancient Egypt.” She blushed a little but couldn’t resist telling him the rest. “I’ve booked a trip back to Luxor in April. For research, but also for pleasure. I’m staying with Hakim and his daughter and grandson.”

  He’d smiled when she mentioned the books, but now he laughed outright. “That’s great. Jess, you never fail to amaze me.” He grabbed her into a hug and she was suddenly suffused with heat at being so close to him. She hugged him back, fitting her head against his shoulder and inhaling the familiar scent of his aftershave, realizing with a sharp pang how much she’d missed it.

  He broke the hug and stepped back, but not before smoothing his hand over her hair with a strangely wistful look. But their hug had broken through the awkwardness she’d felt, and she didn’t want to let that emotional distance creep between them again.

  “For heaven’s sake, Tyler, let me take your coat. It’s warm in here.”

  She reached for his lapels, but he placed his hands over hers and lowered them. He held her fingers securely as he looked into her eyes, all the laughter gone. “Maybe you’d better hear what I have to say first. Then you can decide if you want me to stay.”

  She frowned with concern that he thought something he said could make her te
ll him to leave. Unless…She froze. “Tyler, you didn’t leave another dead body in my garage, did you?”

  His lip quirked up. “No, no dead bodies.”

  “Okay, then. What is it?”

  He let go of her then, paced restlessly in a circle and ran a hand through his hair. “I rehearsed this a dozen different ways, and I still don’t know how to say it. I never thought I’d have to.”

  His nervousness made her uneasy. “You sound so serious.”

  “I’ve never been more serious.”

  She swallowed, hoping no one had died. “You can tell me anything Tyler.”

  He studied her then took a resigned breath. “Remember when we were on our way back to Chicago and you asked me about what I’d be doing next? I told you I didn’t know if I was ready to take over Evan’s position as director.”

  She nodded. That had been at least eight weeks ago.

  “Well, another mission came along while I was trying to decide, so I took it. I was in South America. I can’t say where. An exec of some big oil company was taken hostage, along with his family. We thought it would take about a week to scope things out and rescue them, but there were problems. We were given some bad info, and the mission almost turned into a disaster. It doesn’t usually happen, but this time it did. I was held by some drug runners for a week. They thought I was CIA, which is not a popular thing to be down there. They probably would have killed me if not for some quick thinking by my team members.”

  “Oh, Tyler.” Cold ran through her like ice water. “Did they hurt you?”

  “A minor bullet wound. It wasn’t serious in itself, but the resulting infection was pretty bad.”

  “Oh my God. Where is it? Are you in pain?” She couldn’t help it; she reached out and gripped his coat sleeve as if touching him would ease her distress. It did, a little.

  He pried her hand loose, but didn’t release it. Stroking her fingers, he said softly, “I’m okay, Jess. It was in my leg, and it’s healed now.” He looked down at her hand in his and twined their fingers together in a firm grip. She squeezed hard in return, smiling with relief. Whatever was worrying him, she still had his friendship.