“Are you crying?” he asks me.
“I’m just relieved.”
He raises a hand to stroke my hair. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he says. “We’re totally safe now. No one’s even looking for you or your father.”
“Does that mean we can go to that hotel you were talking about?” I ask, wiping my eyes. “That sounded really good.”
Joel laughs. “I have an idea I think you’ll like even better.”
“What’s that?” I ask him.
“Why don’t I take you home?”
Chapter 20
Jenna
The ride back to Manchester is one of the most blissful experiences of my life. It’s like Christmas morning. With every mile farther south we go, I become more and more excited, more and more eager to rejoin the life I left behind. It seems strange that I’ve only been away for a few days. But then, considering everything that’s happened in that time, maybe it isn’t so strange. After all, I thought I would be forced to give up my entire identity. I thought I had left my whole life behind. Now, with every mile closer we get to Manchester, I feel more and more like the old Jenna Shears.
Dad spends most of the ride in the back seat of Joel’s car, stretched out and trying to sleep. He spreads his jacket out over his eyes shortly after we set off, and after a few miles, I can hear him snoring softly. Poor old Dad. For all the trauma I’ve been through over the past couple of days, I know he’s had it even worse. He was the one Boetsch was actually hunting, and he’s had to worry about whether his actions would rebound and cause harm to me. And he’s been alone, with no one to talk to. I don’t think I realized until this moment how lucky I was to have Joel in the cabin with me.
He looks over at me from the driver’s seat. “Are you all right?” he asks.
“I’m fine now.” I press the heel of my hand to my forehead. “What’s going to happen to Shadow, Joel? I don’t want him to get in trouble.”
“I don’t think it’ll be too bad,” Joel says. “He’s cooperating with the police, and he’s got friends on the force. He should be able to cut a deal. He’ll probably lose his job, and maybe he’ll have to pay a fine or something. I don’t think it will go any farther than that.”
“I hope not,” I say.
Joel glances at me and raises an eyebrow. “You really feel that way? I thought you’d want to see him punished, after what he did to you and your father.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I would have thought that too, but everything’s been so complicated lately. Good people do bad things. That’s been made pretty clear to me.”
“You’re talking about me kidnapping you from the airport?”
“Sure. But I’m also talking about me having sex with you and then immediately cuffing you to a water pipe. That was questionable behavior at best.”
“You did surprise me with that.” Joel laughs. “Who knew you were so nefarious?”
“Nefarious!”
“Well, it was a pretty sneaky plan.”
“I didn’t really plan it,” I say. “It happened really fast. I didn’t know exactly how I was going to escape.”
Joel nods slowly. “Well, I have to admit I admire your quick-thinking and perseverance. And your body.” He smiles and waggles his eyebrows.
“And then last night…”
“That was something else,” Joel says.
I don’t dare to say any more about it with my father asleep in the car, but Joel’s right. It was something else. I’ve never felt so intimate with someone before. Even now, sitting beside him in the car, it’s like some invisible barrier between the two of us has come down.
I edge my fingers along the armrest and touch my pinky against his, and all the tension and electricity between us comes rushing back. I jerk my hand away quickly. I can’t stand the intensity. Not now, not when we’re trapped in this car without a stop in sight, and there’s nothing we can do to get relief.
We drop Dad off first, and when I see my childhood home, I’m filled with an urge to go inside. It would be such a relief to stand in the kitchen where Dad and I spent so many happy hours, to cook a pot of soup together and talk over everything that’s happened. But as much as I want to stay, I’m longing to get back to my own apartment, to be surrounded by the trappings of the life I almost lost forever. I hug Dad and promise to come over the next day so we can debrief. Then I get back into the car with Joel for the drive to Manchester.
The sun is starting to set over the horizon, and Joel stares wistfully out the windshield. He clearly has something on his mind.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, unable to take it any longer. “You’re not still worried about Shadow, are you?”
“No, no,” he says. “I’m sure Shadow will be fine.” He pulls the car to a slow stop in front of my apartment building and turns it off but makes no move to get out. “Welcome home,” he says finally.
“Thanks for the ride.” It feels like an awkward moment. What do you say to the man who kidnapped you and saved your life simultaneously? Is this the last time we’re going to see each other? This can’t really be how everything between us ends, can it?
It’s Joel who breaks the silence first. “You’re free,” he says. “Now you can go back to exactly the way your life was before you ever met me. So, I should congratulate you. This almost never happens to my clients—most of them lose their previous lives and their identities forever. You’re one of the lucky few. You can pick up exactly where you left off.”
I can tell he’s sincere, that he means what he’s saying. And yet, he still has that far-off look in his eye. He’s acting more detached than he’s ever been with me, even on that first terrible night when I thought of him as nothing but a kidnapper. When he wouldn’t tell me where he was taking me or why. Tonight, it’s as if we’re total strangers. He’s acting as if I really am just a client he was hired to protect—and the only feeling he has about any of it is the satisfaction that his mission was a success.
And I don’t believe it.
The Joel I know is not this standoffish. Although he would hate to admit it, he wears his heart on his sleeve. The very fact that he’s acting like this is a sign that he’s dealing with emotions he doesn’t know how to express.
And so am I. The truth is that, as relieved as I am to be back home and back in my old life, I don’t want what Joel is describing. I don’t want to pick up exactly where I left off. I don’t want to forget this ever happened. Yes, I’m glad Boetsch is no longer free to menace my father and me, and yes, most of this has been a waking nightmare. But there are one or two things I have to admit I’m glad to have experienced. There are a couple of things I’m not quite ready to let go of.
So, I turn to Joel. He’s still looking out the windshield, still not facing me. “Does it have to be that way?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” Even his voice is distant. He’s already miles away, already thinking about something other than me. I hope that’s because he’s forcing his mind away. I hope I’ve read this situation correctly and I’m not about to put my heart on the line only to be humiliated.
I take a deep breath and steel myself. “I don’t want to go back to the way things were,” I say. “Before this happened…I thought I was happy, but I wasn’t. I was working all the time. I was always on the go, always trying to close the next deal. I hadn’t had a relationship in years. Even the friends I thought I had were more acquaintances and drinking buddies, not real confidantes. And then I met you.”
“What are you saying?” Joel asks.
“Do you know how long it had been since I’d had a real conversation?” I ask. “Before you, I mean? A conversation that wasn’t about business, politics, or the weather, but about real ideas and feelings. When I talk to you, I feel like you care about what I’m saying.”
“I do care,” Joel says. I see his face twitch. Was that the start of a smile on his lips?
“Everything with you feels so real,” I say. “So genuine. And maybe tha
t’s ironic, given the way we met, but the truth is that I know you care about me. And I know I care about you.”
He’s looking at me now. Just watching. Taking me in. I feel like the brightest and most beautiful thing in the universe.
“So, I don’t want to go back to my old life,” I say. “Not entirely. I want you to stick around. I want us to get to know each other better. I don’t want you to be a footnote in the story of my life, a strange anecdote I tell my children years from now. I want you to be more than that.”
“What do you want me to be?” Joel asks.
“I don’t know yet,” I say. “But I really want to find out.”
He’s quiet, searching my face.
“Say something,” I say. I can’t take the suspense. Is he trying to think of a kind way to let me down? Is he going to laugh me out of the car? Is it possible that he’s going to say yes, that those charged moments between us meant as much to him as they did to me? Or was it all just the heat of the moment and the adrenaline brought about by the fact that we were on the run together?
And then he leans in and kisses me.
Immediately, I’m transported. I’m outside my own anxiety, in a world I inhabit with only Joel. His arms are around me, crushing me to him, and he doesn’t have to say a word because all the answers I need are right here in this kiss.
Finally, he pulls away so we can look each other in the eyes. The pull of his gaze feels magnetic, or maybe gravitational—his eyes are forward and down all rolled into one. And looking feels like falling. I’m powerless to fight it. I don’t even want to fight it. I want to fall into him completely.
“I want that too,” he says. He didn’t need to even say that. His kiss has made his answer abundantly clear. Still, it’s nice to hear it in his own words, his own voice, with his thumb tracing patterns along my jaw. “I’ve been wanting it for days. The way I’m attracted to you…it’s been so difficult to focus on doing my job, Jenna. You have no idea. I’ve been fighting every instinct I have, trying to put you out of my mind so I could keep you safe.”
“You didn’t have to choose,” I say, feeling breathless. “You could have told me.”
“No,” he says. “I can’t be involved with a client like that. That job has to come first. I can’t allow myself to feel conflicted about anything. God forbid Boetsch had discovered I was attracted to you. He might have found a way to exploit that.”
I lean across the armrest and kiss Joel again, this time very gently on the forehead. It’s been harder on him than I could have realized. “I’m not your job anymore,” I say.
“Thank God for that.” He tips his head up toward me and catches my lips with his again. “It’s been torture, staring at your face every day, wanting you so badly, knowing nothing could ever happen. I was going out of my mind.”
“I thought I was going out of mine,” I say with a laugh. “Falling for my kidnapper. It actually made it harder for me to trust you because I didn’t know whether or not I could trust myself.”
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Joel asks.
“What is?”
“That we’re actually going to have a real chance at this,” he says. “That Boetsch was drawn out and caught so quickly. It’s amazing because your safety is assured now. But it’s doubly amazing because of what it means for us.”
We kiss again, desperately, until I can’t stand it anymore. Separating from him is hard, but I manage to pull away and clamber out of the car. Joel is at my side in an instant, and I take in how disheveled and wild-eyed he is. I can feel how much he wants me, tangled up in how much I want him, charging the air between us with reckless energy.
“Do you want to come upstairs?” I manage to focus my mind enough to talk, aware as I speak of what a stupid question it is. Our hands are already finding each other again, searching for any inch of exposed skin. My fingers work to untuck his shirt, to slip their way along the bare strip of torso above the waist of his pants. My fingers flirt with the pants button as I work, teasing both of us—will I open it? I want to. God, I want to. I’m losing my ability to breathe.
Meanwhile, Joel’s hands are roaming under my top. A moment later I feel a sudden lightness and know he’s released my bra, and I lean into him, aroused and gasping. He takes advantage of the situation and works his mouth down my neck, kissing and nibbling. I feel like I might cry with how much I need him right now.
“Joel,” I say. Not capable of uttering more than his name.
“Hmm?”
“Inside.”
“But it’s so beautiful out.” He’s being deliberately cruel now. If he isn’t careful, this is going to backfire on him, and I’m going to rip off all our clothes right here on the sidewalk. Maybe that’s what he wants. I still don’t know him that well. Maybe this is a game. Maybe he’s trying to see how far he can push me before giving me what I want so badly. In which case…
I drop my hand to his waist again and pop open the button I’ve been toying with.
Joel hisses. “Jenna…”
My hand travels lower. Now the tables have turned, and I’m in control. Joel writhes against me, biting back moans, and I take a moment to revel in the fact that I’ve got him exactly where I want him.
You should have known better than to toy with me, Joel.
“Inside,” I say again, injecting steel into my voice and making it absolutely clear that this is not a request. I give Joel a little squeeze that I hope serves as both a warning and a promise, and my tactic seems to work. Immediately, before I even realize what’s happening, he scoops me up in his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he carries me straight to my own front door—of course, he knows which door is mine—pulls the key from my pocket, and lets us in.
Epilogue
A Year Later: Jenna
The dinner table is set. I’ve brought out the good china, which I’ve never had occasion to use since receiving it as a gift from my grandmother. The table is set on a simple ice blue tablecloth I picked up at the home goods store earlier today. I have candles spread all over the table between the various serving dishes, filling the air with soft light and the pleasant aroma of hot apples and cinnamon.
I survey the dining room and, satisfied with the effect, step into the living room. We set up the tree last night. Joel didn’t have any ornaments from his childhood, so all the old ones are mine, but I picked up a few to start his collection while I was at the home goods store. I touch my finger to the black workman’s boot, hoping he’ll like it. It’s probably supposed to represent Santa Claus’s boot, but every time I see it, I’ll think of the days we spent in that cabin and how worried he was about my feet staying warm.
The back door opens, and Joel comes in, stomping the snow off his boots. “Merry Christmas!” he calls.
I run to the door and hug him. “Merry Christmas yourself! You’re home early.”
He grins. “You’re a fine one to talk. It must be nice to have two whole weeks off for the holidays.”
It is nice. Although I’m still at the same company, I’ve transitioned into a job that’s much less demanding. That means fewer hours worked per week, less travel, and more time spent with Joel. I was nervous when I first made the change, but it’s turned out to be one of the most satisfying choices I’ve ever made. Between my relaxed career and having Joel in my life, the past year has been my best yet.
“Come on,” Joel says now. “I have gifts in the car. Help me bring them in.”
I swat his arm. “I thought we said we were done shopping.”
“Well, I stopped at the store on the way home and spotted a few things I couldn’t resist,” he says, grinning. “I finally found that biography of Abraham Lincoln we were hoping to give to your dad.”
“You’re kidding!” I slide my feet into some shoes and follow Joel out to the car. “I thought that was sold out everywhere?”
“I guess I got lucky,” he says with a grin. He leans into the car and pulls out two big paper bags with handles, handing
one of them off to me.
I feel the weight of it. “This isn’t one book. What else did you get?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.” He nudges me with his shoulder. “And don’t even bother trying to peek because I had everything gift wrapped.”
I groan. “You weren’t supposed to buy me anything else, Joel. We agreed on one present each!”
“Yeah, and I’m sure you stuck to that.” He laughs.
He’s got me there. I grin and lift the bag, making my way inside to unload the new batch of gifts under the tree.
I thought I would have to argue with Joel about leaving the disappearing business when we bought this house together. As much as I know his work meant to him, I’d had enough of the dangerous lifestyle that comes with associating with people like Carl Boetsch, and I was more than ready to put it behind me. But Joel surprised me by bringing it up before I even had the chance. On the very day we signed the papers, he told me he was giving up on that line of work. “It’s too risky,” he said, “and I need to make sure you’re safe. I can’t justify staying in that industry if it puts you in danger.”
As thrilled as I was to be chosen over the work I knew he loved, I also felt guilty and a bit concerned. After all, he had put a lot into building a reputation for himself as a disappearer. Could I really let him give it up for my sake? Would he come to resent me for it?
But Joel is happier than he’s ever been. He loves being a firefighter. He tells me the constant adrenaline of the job is great for him—it wouldn’t be my idea of a good time, but that’s my Joel. And he also likes knowing that he’s still helping people, still saving lives. That’s something that’s very important to him. He needs to feel like his existence in the world is a positive force. Not only that, he needs to feel like Shadow saved his life all those years ago for a reason. Every time he saves a life in the course of his work, he comes home looking so satisfied and fulfilled that I’m confident he’s in the right job. It doesn’t hurt that he also looks unbearably sexy in his uniform.
My Protector (Once a SEAL, Always a SEAL Book 5) Page 14