by Sarah Curtis
Yep. Maggie was still pissed.
He stood from the wall and snagged her hand, pulling her to him. “I don’t care about Maggie.” He took a moment to skim her face, trying to read her mood. “But I do care about you. I know we haven’t really had a chance to talk.”
“You mean because you ditched me at the hospital?”
He grimaced and released a small sigh before admitting, “Yeah, that wasn’t my finest moment.” He shook his head. “I was given some advice, and upon reflection, I think I might have taken it too literally.”
She raised her brows. “Advice?”
“From a friend. I’ll tell you about it over dinner.”
Staring at his temple, she started to raise a hand but let it drop.
“What?”
“Your head.”
He fingered the small line of stitches covered with waterproof surgical tape. “They’re a little sore and I have a killer fucking headache. But I’m okay.”
“I hate that you got hurt.”
So fucking sweet. He brushed her cheek with his thumb. He knew how lucky he was. A fraction of an inch over and it would’ve been lights out. Something he tried not to dwell on, and he didn’t want her to either. “Come on. If you play your cards right, I’ll buy you ice cream.”
She attempted a small smile, and he was grateful he got that. Best to get their evening started.
He walked her down the stairs and to a red sports car parked in the visitors’ lot. He felt a tug at his hand—Sadie had stopped in her tracks.
“This is yours?” she all but accused, making it clear she thought he’d lied about being a biker, too.
“Rental.” The rain had stopped, but there had still been a chance of it in the forecast. “I won’t put you on the back of my bike in bad weather.”
She glanced down at the jeans she’d paired with a red sweater and brown boots then at the suit he still wore. “Maybe I should change.”
He tugged her until her front was plastered to his side. “You look beautiful.”
“I feel underdressed.”
“We’re not going anywhere fancy. I’ll be overdressed. I just haven’t had a chance to stop home to change.”
“Too busy catching criminals?”
She was purposely trying to bait him. He took it in stride, knowing it was well deserved. “Paperwork, actually. A shit-ton of it.”
He opened the passenger side door and helped her in. Rounding the hood, he did the same and started the car.
They drove for a few minutes in silence before she blurted, “Was everything you told me about yourself a lie? Part of your cover story?”
They stopped at a red light, and Dean looked at her. “Everything I ever told you about myself was the truth.”
“Everything but your real last name,” she deadpanned.
Dean internally groaned. How many times would he put his foot in his mouth that night? “Yeah, everything except that.”
“So, the military, that your dad’s a mechanic and your mom’s a schoolteacher, that your favorite color’s blue… All that is true?”
“Yes. And I really do hate anchovies and black olives.”
“This isn’t a joke.”
Guilt ate at him, causing his temper to flare. “You think I don’t know that? You think, for one second, I don’t regret having lied to you? I do. I regret hurting you more than you’ll ever know. But also know this, I’d do it all over again. Not because I enjoyed hurting you but because missing my shot with you is inconceivable.”
A honk sounded behind them, and he lost her eyes when she trained them out the front window. “Light’s green.”
He pulled his eyes from her and hit the gas.
A few moments of silence passed before she tentatively asked, “Where are we going?”
“Mike’s and then Frosty’s.”
“Trying to win me over with pizza and ice cream?”
“Would it be that easy?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Then she threw him a bone. “But it’s a start.” She sighed. “Listen. I’m not playing hard to get or putting you through the paces just to see you sweat. You hurt me. I’m trying to let it go, but I need a little time.”
Dean turned into the parking lot of the pizza place and pulled into a spot before he put the car in park and twisted to face her. His hand cupped her neck, his thumb tracing her jaw. “I’m not a patient man, but for you, Sadie, I’d wait an eternity. All I ask is that you don’t shut me out.”
“No more lies. Promise me that. That will go a long way toward me trusting you again.”
“No more lies.” He rested his forehead on hers. “Promise.”
Dean got out of the car and came around to Sadie’s side, opening the door and helping her out. Mike’s was a family-owned restaurant that served a variety of Italian dishes but were best known for their pizza. At six o’clock on a Tuesday, the place was busy but not like the weekend crowd. On a Friday or Saturday night, all the tables would be full and there’d be at least a thirty-minute wait. It was one of their favorite places, but they usually ordered their pizza to-go so they could enjoy it at home.
They were shown to a booth, and Sadie slid in. He followed, moving in to sit close. She kept scooting and he kept following until she reached mid-horseshoe when she finally gave up.
Her eyes narrowed. “There’s a whole other half a booth, you know.”
Dean took the menu from the hostess with a smile and a thank you before saying, “I know.” He opened his menu and scanned it.
“You don’t want to maybe… utilize it?”
He dropped his menu to peer at her. “Sadie, I keep telling you, I’m the same guy I was last week, only my last name and occupation has changed. Now, would last-week Dean have sat over there?” He pointed across the booth.
She dramatically sighed. “No.”
“Then there’s your answer.”
She picked up her menu, hiding behind it, but he heard her mumble, “Medium sausage and mushroom and an antipasto salad?”
Their usual order.
Dean plucked the menu from her hands and set it on the table. “Sounds good.”
She picked up her napkin, unrolling it from around the silverware.
“Sadie.”
Head bowed and not looking at him, she placed the napkin on her lap.
“Sadie,” he tried again.
She continued to ignore him, her sole focus on playing with the damn napkin. He reached over, capturing her fidgeting fingers.
Her head shot up.
“Sadie.” He made sure his tone was even and patient. The opposite of how he was feeling at the moment.
“Yeah?” Her eyes darted around the room, looking at everything but him.
He squeezed her hand to gain her attention. When he had it, he said, “I’m the same man I was one week ago. One month ago. The only difference now is—”
“Are you guys ready to order?”
Fuck! He speared his eyes at their waiter. Jaw tense, his tone was not even nor patient when he barked, “No.”
“I’ll, uh, come back.”
Dean gritted a smile. “Don’t rush.”
“Right.” The guy beat a hasty retreat.
He looked back over at Sadie and gave her hand another squeeze. “The only difference—”
His phone rang.
He ignored it. “The only—"
It rang again.
And again.
“You better answer that.”
Frustration had him clenching his jaw. “Just let me see who’s calling.” He dug his phone out and confusion quickly replaced his irritation. “Sorry, I need to take this.”
He released her hand and used it to hit accept and brought the phone to his ear. “Conner.”
He listened to Sanchez rattle off the unbelievable. “I’m on my way.”
Hanging up, he reached out and brushed a thumb
over Sadie’s cheek. “We need to go to the hospital. Your brother and a fellow agent have been hurt.” He pulled some cash out of his pocket, thumbed through it until he found a twenty, and tossed it on the table. “Come on. Let’s see how fast a Porsche 911 can go.”
“What the fuck happened?” Dean stood, feet planted with his hands on his hips, staring at Mark Sanchez.
He and Sadie had arrived at the hospital ten minutes prior and after seeing her safely to the ER so she could check on her brother, Dean cornered Mark and dragged him into a private office.
Sanchez dragged a hand through his hair. “It was a fuckin’ ambush. A few stragglers from Matas’s organization ran transpo off the road. They thought if they could get to Pierce—silence his ass—we wouldn’t have enough evidence for a conviction to stick.”
“Shit.” Dean shook his head. “You got ‘em in custody?”
“Yeah, every last one of them. Miller was hit, and the stupid son of a bitch wasn’t wearing his vest. Took a bullet to the gut. He’s in surgery now.”
“And Ray?” With now knowing bullets flew, Dean was worried at what Sadie had walked into after he’d deposited her at the ER.
“Nothing life threatening. Bullet grazed his arm before the rest of the team got the situation in hand.”
“Who’s with Pierce now?”
“Garcia.”
Dean nodded. “Keep me posted on Miller’s condition. Let me know when he’s out of surgery.”
“Will do.”
Dean made for the door. He needed to check on Ray, but more importantly, the state of his girl.
Sadie
Five hours and a multitude of paperwork later, Sadie plopped herself into an empty seat behind the nurses’ station. She’d just seen her brother off. She was grateful Dean had bent the rules and let her spend Ray’s last few hours as a free man with him. “What a night.”
Inga tore her eyes from the computer and swiveled her chair Sadie’s direction. “Prince Charming’s in the waiting room.”
“What?” She had told Dean that he didn’t need to wait. That Inga had offered to take her home.
“Yep. He never left. Been waiting for you this whole time.”
Sadie glanced over her shoulder even though she couldn’t see the waiting room through the closed double doors. When she turned back, Inga had her brows raised with a shit-eating grin plastered to her face. “What’s that look for?”
“You’ve got it bad, my friend.”
Sadie rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on. You know you want to forgive him.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is that easy.” Inga rolled her chair until she was directly in front of her, forcing Sadie to look at her. “Did he make you happy?”
“He lied.”
“He lied for his job.”
Sadie shrugged. “A lie is a lie.”
“You never answered my question.”
Sighing, she admitted, “Yeah, he made me happy.”
“Then I ask you this… Are you willing to throw all that happiness away because an honorable man was doing his job? If you truly love him, I’d hate to see you lose that because of stubbornness or pride.”
Sadie made her way to the waiting room with Inga and Ray’s words replaying over and over in her head.
Seeing her brother hurt and that an agent was shot protecting him had really hit home.
That agent could’ve been Dean.
Could she forgive him? Should she?
She found Dean asleep, sprawled in a chair. Sitting down next to him, she reached over and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. His eyes fluttered open. She smiled at him, and for the first time in days, it felt genuine. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter Fifteen
Dean
He was dreaming. He’d had the same one countless times since they’d been apart.
Sadie’s smile.
“Let’s go home.”
Blinking, Dean realized he was awake and sat up. He scanned his surroundings as disorientation turned into clarity. He was in the waiting room of the hospital.
“What time is it?” He rasped.
“A little after midnight.”
Leaning forward, he planted his elbows to his knees and ran his hands over his face before turning back to Sadie. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just going to miss him.”
He reached out, running a thumb over her cheek. “Sorry, baby.”
“The good news is, the agent who was shot is in recovery. Looks like he’s going to be okay.”
Dean nodded. He’d gotten the call when Miller was out of surgery, but it was good to know he was stable.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here. You’re beat, and so am I.” She stood, holding out a hand. He’d like to think the gesture implied more meaning than merely helping him up, but he wasn’t about to assume anything.
He took it but used his own weight to get to his feet. Entwining her fingers with his, they headed for the door.
He took Sadie home.
To her place.
“Can I have a do-over for our date?” she asked as soon as Dean cut the engine.
He tried to hide his surprise and fucking elation at her request. “Anytime, anywhere.”
“I’m off tomorrow. Well, I guess, technically today.”
“I’ll pick you up at noon. If it’s not still raining, we’ll go to the beach. If it is,” he shrugged, “we’ll play it by ear.” He opened his car door and went around to her side.
Taking her hand, he walked her upstairs and waited while she dug through her purse to find her keys.
He took them from her, stepping in close and placing a hand on her waist. “Sadie, what I wanted to say earlier—”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. It matters a hell of a lot. To me. And I hope, like fuck, to you.” He had her full, undivided attention. “The only difference between the man I was before and the one I am now… I can finally tell you how much I love you.”
“You… you love me?”
He hated that she sounded so surprised. Even though he hadn’t been able to say the words, he’d thought he’d shown her his true feelings every damn day. He stressed the point now. “So damn much it hurts.”
Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath. “I was too scared to tell you I love you because you never said it, but I do. I love you, too.”
He closed his eyes, relief hitting him like a punch to the solar plexus. But she wasn’t done.
“But I’m not sure that’s enough. I’m hurt that you lied to me, even if I do understand why.”
Panic seized him, and he could feel his caveman clawing at the surface, trying to come out and claim what was his, but Dean pushed him back. He needed to be patient. He needed to wait until he knocked down all of Sadie’s barriers. “We still have a lot to talk about.” She parted her lips to speak, but he continued before she could. “But not tonight. You’re exhausted.” His hand moved from her waist to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing the delicate skin under her eye. “You need to take better care of yourself.”
“I haven’t been sleeping well.”
Dean rested his forehead against hers and sighed. “And that’s my fault.”
She didn’t answer, and he felt like an ass. Something else to add to the long list of wrongs he’d dealt her. Wrongs he hoped like hell she could forgive him for.
He kissed her forehead and that not being enough, lightly brushed one over her lips. He took a step back, inserted the key in the lock, and opened her front door. “Go. Get inside and get some sleep.”
That was the only way he could leave her, knowing she needed her rest. She’d had an exhausting night—both physically and emotionally.
He knew his girl. Though she loved her job, she had a soft heart, and that took its toll.
She
stepped through the open doorway and held on to the door, giving it her weight but not shutting it.
He held out her keys. “Be sure to lock up.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
It wasn’t a question, but he answered anyway. “Yes.”
“Okay. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, baby.”
She shut the door, and he waited to hear the lock slide home before he made his way back to his car. He drove home feeling lighter than he had in days.
He’d finally told Sadie he loved her, and she loved him back.
Half the battle.
Now he just needed to convince her he was worth losing the war for.
Sadie
At eleven forty-five the next morning Sadie was ready and pacing the living room, waiting for Dean to arrive.
“Would you sit down. You’re making me dizzy.” Maggie eyed her from her position on the couch. She had one foot propped on the coffee table, painting her toes.
Sadie stopped in her tracks. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so antsy.”
Maggie dipped the brush in the bottle before swiping polish on another nail. “I don’t either. It’s not like you haven’t been on a million dates with the guy. Hell, you were hanging at his place more than here.”
“I know, but this is different.”
Maggie recapped the bottle and twisted it closed before setting it on the table to give Sadie her full attention. “How so?”
“I don’t know.” She started pacing again. “I feel like something big is going to happen today.” She stopped when she got to the couch and deflated into the corner of it. “He told me he loved me last night.”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “Everybody knew that. The man is intense when it comes to you.”
“But he wanted to wait until he revealed his real identity before he said it.”
Maggie waved a magazine over her foot. “That’s a good thing.”
“I think that’s why we’ve never had sex. He didn’t want to do it under false pretenses.”
Maggie eyed her. “Again, that’s a good thing.”
Sadie sighed. “I know, but is it too good? Is Dean too good to be true?”
Maggie tossed the magazine down and turned to face her. “You know what I think?”