“You knew this day would come. You knew how impossible it would be for us.”
“And then you made love to me and screwed me all up again.” She smacked her hand, or something, against the door. “And now I am acting immature and crazy. Thanks for that.”
What the hell could he say at this point?
Could he tell her he’d love to take her to dinner, to try and have a normal life, and to see what could happen between them—that he’d love to play cards and lounge around with her on a rainy afternoon, and then have sex in every room of his home in Nashville?
Her life was more important than what he wanted, though. And he couldn’t forget that his head hadn’t been focused on the mission with her around. Of course, she wouldn’t be on future ops with him, but . . .
No, he was trying to convince himself it could work, and he couldn’t do that.
“Please, let me in.” He lowered his forehead to the door, bracing the frame as his heart and mind raced in different directions.
“Why? Our relationship started through a door, so maybe it should end through one.”
She was crying, and the sounds of her broken sobs would destroy him. “I need to see you. I need a chance to—”
“Say goodbye?”
He lifted his head and pushed away from the door.
“If I see you, I’ll want you to kiss me. And I can’t handle the touch of your lips, knowing it’ll be for the last time.” She grew quiet, only the sounds of the water in the back to lull him into a state of uncertainty.
“You’re leaving before me with Owen. I need to see you—”
“No,” she said and hiccupped. “Thank you for saving me. I’m sorry for everything that happened with your team, but let’s just end this here. If you don’t have any plans on changing your mind, I don’t have any plans on opening this door.”
He cursed under his breath, and rolled his head skyward as if the answers were above him. “Don’t do this.”
“I can be as stubborn as you.”
He almost smiled.
She was damn stubborn, and it was a quality that had had him tripping all over his words and actions ever since she’d made the decision to show up at the cabin a week ago.
“You drive me nuts,” he whispered, not sure if she could even hear him, or if he’d meant for her to.
“Ditto.”
He pulled at the tight skin on his throat and expelled a long breath. He allowed the silence to sweep between them, trapping them in the moment.
“I care about you,” he finally said after a few minutes. “I hope you find what you’re looking for in life.” His hand hovered before the door, and he resisted the impulse to shake the knob to try and see her again. “Goodbye.”
He turned on his heel and rushed from the room before he gave her a chance to respond.
“Can you stay in the room with her until she heads to the airport?” he asked Jessica once he joined some of the team.
“Yeah. Do I need to pick up the pieces of a broken heart when I go in there?”
“Like you’d know how,” he grumbled.
She rolled her eyes. “Liam’s on his way back, by the way. Harper’s doing much better. She’ll make a full recovery.”
“Thank God for something.”
She touched his chest, and his sister’s normally icy stare dissolved. “Are you okay? I mean, Will’s betrayal, plus—”
“It’s a lot, but I’m always okay, aren’t I?” he asked.
“Yeah . . . but I’m worried this time might be different.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Is this your first time at Camp David?” President Rydell handed Luke a Scotch and offered Jessica a drink before sitting in the leather armchair across from them.
“Yes, Mr. President.” The aged drink kicked up in the back of his throat but went smooth into his chest. It was what he needed, plus maybe five more. The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind.
From his anger at Will to his gut-wrenching ire at himself for the way things had ended with Eva—he’d become a tightly wound bottle of rage, and he was near ready to explode.
“It was a shock to all of us about Will Hobbs. We have a team investigating all of his actions, dating back to 2003.” He took a sip of his drink and crossed his ankle over his knee. “He’ll pay for what he’s done.”
Luke nodded, not sure what to say. He was waiting for the moment when the president would announce the disbandment of his group. The idea made his lips twitch, so he took another drink.
“What happens to us, Mr. President?” Jessica bit the bullet.
“After talking to the CIA director this morning, we’ve decided not to make any changes. The intel alone you recovered from the safe is going to take down a half a dozen operational terrorist cells. If you consider everything you’ve done in the past five years, we can’t afford to lose you.” He released a long sigh. “But, we’ve decided to eliminate one position. Well, more so alter it. We’d like you two to be the point of contact for future missions. Will was a middleman, and maybe that was the problem. We’d like to work directly with you.”
Luke leaned back into the couch and took a moment to consider his words.
“It’d be an honor, Mr. President.” Jessica looked to Luke for a response.
He blinked a couple of times as he thought about what this meant—any hope he’d clung to that he could be with Eva in the near future had gone out the window.
“Yes, of course,” he finally said and stood. “Thank you, Mr. President.” He extended his palm, and Jessica followed suit.
After they chatted for a few minutes, Jessica and Luke made their way to the chopper outside. “That was unexpected,” she said, her words competing with the blades. “It’s what you want, right?”
“Yeah.” But he also wanted Eva, even though he’d said goodbye to her.
He couldn’t have both, he reminded himself.
“The team will be happy,” she hollered over the noise once they’d strapped in.
He squeezed the emotions down his throat, emotions that had been foreign to him up until the moment Eva had come crashing into his life with her “Clark Kent” glasses and her beautiful smile.
His gut tightened, and he tipped his head back and listened to the sounds of the familiar helo blades, which afforded him the safety of what he knew—being a SEAL.
He’d been born and raised for this life.
But part of him didn’t want to go at it alone anymore.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” His sister squeezed his arm, taking him by surprise.
Without opening his eyes, he nodded, not wanting her to see the thread of emotions slip through his eyes. He’d also promised her he wouldn’t lie.
And hell, he was anything but okay right now.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Eva took a shaky breath and pressed both hands to her cheeks as she stared at the last page of her finished script. The words had poured straight from the heart during the last five days she’d been tucked away in Charleston with Owen.
“I’m done.” Emotion squeezed in her throat, and she swiped at the tears on her cheeks.
Owen sat in front of his laptop at the bar counter of the pub he owned. She’d learned he was a man with a lot of skills, apparently; one of which included making ridiculously delicious cocktails.
The pub was closed down in the winter, so they’d been staying in an apartment he had on the second floor. Luke hadn’t been too concerned about a threat, but he’d wanted her with one of his people until everything blew over. Well, that’s what Owen had said on their drive from D.C. to Charleston.
“You really banged out an entire script from start to finish in five days?” He came next to her and brushed a strand of blond hair from his face. He had the whole Charlie Hunnam look going for him. Intimidating, but super sexy. Of course, he wasn’t Luke, and she highly doubted any man would ever measure up to him.
“It’s amazing what you can do when you’ve
almost died.” She closed her laptop and sniffled, trying to stifle the tears.
“You didn’t write about what happened, did you?”
Amusement spread through her, warming her cheeks at the sudden nervous look on his face.
“No one would believe that story.”
He wrapped a hand over her shoulder. “You’re probably right.”
“I scrapped the movie I’d been writing before I met you guys, though. Inspiration sort of seized hold of me when we got here.”
“This place can do that,” he said lightly, his eyes now focused on the wall at her side, and she followed his gaze to see what had captured his attention.
It was an old framed photo of two people, but how could she not have made the connection sooner . . .? “Is that you? You’re so young.” A smile found her lips, and she faced him again.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice flat.
“Who’s the guy next to you?” Concern had her skin breaking out into goose bumps, and she crossed her arms and rubbed the chill from her biceps.
“My brother.” He cleared his throat and blinked as if ushering away whatever thoughts were on his mind.
“Oh?” Relief swelled in her chest. “It’s hard for me to imagine you running this place alone, while working at Scott & Scott, as well as doing your other job. Does he help out?”
“He’s dead, so no.”
Her fingertips pressed to her lips, shock spiraling through her at fifty beats per second. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. He was military.”
“Was that before or after you joined?” She couldn’t seem to stop herself from asking questions—it was second nature to her—but the way his mouth tightened, she worried it’d been a mistake.
“Let’s talk about you instead.” And it was as if a switch had been flipped, and his lips curved at the edges into a smile. Forced, but still. “Who are you gonna have star in this film? Do you need me to help cast the female leads? I’d be happy to assist.”
It took her longer than him to pull her thoughts out of the darkness, but when she finally did, she said with a chuckle, “Because you don’t already have your plate full.”
“You won’t forget us little people when you’re . . .” He let his words go, as a puff of air left his nostrils. “Shit, you’re already famous, right? So maybe I should ask, are you gonna go back to that life?”
“Well, I—”
“Hold that thought.”
He grabbed his phone from his pocket and answered. “Yeah?” A pause. “Okay, great. I’ll tell her.”
Her heart sped up. She knew Luke’s team hadn’t been sent to take down the terrorists, but the thought of his voice being on the other end of the line, knowing he was okay, it had a quiver of hope darting up her spine.
She understood his reasons for letting her go, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept.
“You’re free,” Owen said after he ended the call, which snapped her out of her Luke-induced state of mind.
“Oh. Was that—”
“Jess,” he said, and a moment of disappointment washed over her. “So, where would you like me to take you? Your place in New York?”
Her gaze flicked to her laptop, to the memory of her finished script. “Actually, I think I’d like to go home.”
He tucked his phone in his jeans pocket. “I thought New York was home.”
She smiled. “I mean my other home.”
“You really can’t tell us what happened?” her mom asked.
Eva lifted her shoulders in thought. “I’m sorry.” She glanced around the room swelling with family members she hadn’t talked to in a while; they’d all gathered at a moment’s notice when she’d put in the request.
She was fortunate to have them.
Her older brother, Harrison, had his back to everyone, his palm resting on the mantle above the lit fireplace in her father’s office. “People will find out you’re here. The real you. It’s probably not a good idea to stay much longer.”
“That’s okay,” she said softly, letting them know for the first time her decision to return to her old life. “I’m done hiding. I thought it was what I wanted, but”—she stretched her arms, palms up—“I miss you guys. I miss being part of this family.”
“Are you serious?” Her mom was on her feet and striding to her. She wrapped her arms around her. “Finally.”
Harrison faced her now. “What about your show?”
“I spoke with everyone yesterday and let them in on my secret.” She smiled when she pulled back from her mom. “The director figured me out a few months after I started, but he assumed I had wanted my privacy.” She’d been in shock when he’d dropped that bomb on her, but also relieved that her lie of a life had been paper thin. “I’m going to keep working on the show for as long as they’ll have me, but I’ll need to do a better job of safeguarding my life from now on.”
“We’re happy to have you back, sweetheart,” her dad said from behind his desk. He was never a man for hugs and big emotions, but she loved him for who he was.
Her mom clapped her hands together before glancing at her dad’s fourth wife. “Well, I think this is cause for celebration. Let’s have a party this weekend.”
“I’m not really up for that right now,” Eva said and looked to her older brother for support.
“Yeah, she’s had a stressful few weeks, apparently; let’s just be glad we have her home,” Harrison said.
“It’s up to you.” Her mom smiled.
“Could I have a word with Dad alone?” Eva glanced around the room, and her family scattered. She waited for the doors to close before she went to her bag resting against one of the bookshelves that lined the wall.
Her gaze lifted as she reached inside, catching the spine of a Tolstoy novel on the shelf, and her heart shriveled in her chest.
“Are you okay?”
Shoving thoughts of Luke from her mind, she stood upright with the printed screenplay in hand and slowly approached her father’s desk, terrified of losing her nerve.
He reached for his glasses and slipped them on when she placed the pages in front of him.
“Crossfire?” He read the title aloud.
She tucked her hands in her khaki pants pockets, not sure what to do with her cold fingers as she fought the nerves tangling in her throat. “It’s about a man caught in the moment of indecision—love or career. He thinks he can only have one choice, not realizing he can have the world if he only wants it bad enough.”
“Is there any action?” He started flipping through the pages.
“Of course.” She looked skyward for a moment, corralling her thoughts so she could string together the right words. “I want to make a movie with you, Dad. It’s been my dream, and I’m so proud of this script. I couldn’t get myself to hand it over to anyone else first without at least seeing if you wanted it.”
He removed his glasses, his green eyes narrowing. “Sweetheart, I’ve been waiting a lifetime for you to ask me.”
“But I don’t want you to say yes because I’m your daughter.” She placed a palm on his desk for support. “I needed to know I had what it takes to be in this business—”
“I get it. I did the same thing when I was your age.”
His words had her taken aback. “What do you mean?”
He motioned to the armchair in front of the desk, and so she took a seat.
“I was in my late twenties, and your grandfather was this famous producer, as you know—but I always feared I’d be living in his shadow. So, I changed my name and went out on my own for a few years, which is when I met your mother.” He smiled. “She fell in love with me without knowing I was a Reed.”
“And then what happened?” she asked, surprised that she’d never known of the story.
“I was failing miserably on my own, and so she convinced me to go back and be who I was born to be.” He laughed. “Basically, I needed my name to make it anywhere in the industry.”
“But you’re incredible. That’s not true.”
He shrugged. “Maybe that’s the case now, but when I was young, I swear I didn’t know my left from my right sometimes. I realized I needed to be in my dad’s shadow to learn enough so I could cast my very own someday.” He stood and scratched at his white beard. “I never wanted to eclipse your light, though. And I never could. You shine so damn bright. You know that, don’t you?”
Eva was on her feet, wiping the tears from her face yet again as he came around and reached for her arm. She’d never heard such words from her father, and maybe she never knew she had needed them until now.
“What I’m trying to say is I want nothing more in the world than to make a movie with you.” He looked into her eyes, his experience obvious, not so much from the wrinkles, but from the depth of his green irises.
“If it’s shit, you’ll tell me, though, right?”
He laughed. “I’ve always been honest with you. This time will be no different.”
She nodded and smiled. “Okay.” A tiny bit of happiness filled her heart when her dad hugged her—something he hadn’t done in years. “Let’s do this.”
When she left his embrace, his gaze softened even more. “Why is it you still don’t look happy?”
She wished she could tell him in figuring out who she truly wanted to be, she’d fallen for someone she could never have.
He pointed to the script. “Is your story about a certain someone who may be the cause of whatever’s eating at you right now?”
She gave an innocent lift to her shoulders. “Maybe.”
“Tell me, then . . . how does the story end?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“People are treating me differently. I don’t like it.”
Jayme nudged Eva in the arm and stared off at the ocean. “What’d you expect to happen when you came out?”
“They’re being super nice to me. And the guys who didn’t give me the time of day before have been asking me out.” Eva slouched back into her chair on the dock, waiting for the cast to wrap up with hair and makeup before they began shooting.
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