Dax cuts off my view with a brown cup extended my way. “For you. A double shot with extra milk,” he explains, sliding into the seat directly in front of me. I take a scorching sip and wait. I take another. And then another. His blue eyes tick over my face and neck, studying me. Six months is a long time to be away from the person you love. If I had it my way I would sit here and stare at him just the same. He takes the first gulp of his drink and sighs.
“Out with it, honey. You are killing me here. Hookers and blow? Is that it? A love child in Japan? Fourteen wives on a private island named after you?”
“Lane. Baby,” Dax says, face ashen, but completely alight with love. I’m not entirely positive how that’s possible, but I think it’s a good sign. “I’m not sure how to tell you this.” He pauses, winces a little, and waits for some godforsaken cue from me. “I’m not sure how to tell you this and I have no idea how you’ll take it, but I can’t keep this from you for much longer and I want to be the one to tell you. You know, before the media gets the details and…well,” Dax stutters, looks down at my left hand and twists the beautiful diamond engagement ring he delicately placed there. It sparkles a million different colors in the light, reminding me of a happy time.
I slam my hand down on his. “Tell me,” I say. “We’re engaged to be married. Whatever it is can’t possibly be as bad as what I’m imagining right now.”
He raises his eyebrows and breaks eye contact. Shit. Can it?
“What details will the media get?” I ask again, trying to piece together what he’s having such a hard time saying. I glance back at the television and narrow my eyes at the news anchor with large fake boobs and a microphone that should be in a music video and not on location. I see a headline scroll across the screen. The words SEAL TEAM catch my eye. The next words HOSTAGE RESCUE cause a surge of panic.
“Are the guys okay? Did someone get hurt? Die?” My heart in my throat, I bring my hand up to my neck. The pulse there is hammering Dax’s cool fingers are on my cheeks. Gently he turns my face away from the screen to meet his gaze.
“The guys are fine, Lainey. No one is hurt. I guess this is a good jumping off point.” The lights flicker in our little corner and it draws his beautiful eyes away from mine. “We had a successful mission, Lane. I…we…rescued a high value hostage. We brought him home. He’s safe.”
I nod at him. “That’s great, honey.” I fail at keeping sarcasm out of my tone. “I don’t see what the problem is then.” Navy SEALs don’t fail. When they do, they fail really freaking hard. It’s all or nothing. It’s a life I’ve become accustomed to. It’s a life I’ve been enveloped in for so long that I’m not sure how normal individuals succeed on a daily basis. If the guys were successful, then he wouldn’t be looking at me with such sadness that I feel it down to my bones. I want to wrap him in my arms and comfort him, and I have no idea why. A shiver runs all the way down my spine.
I take his hand with both of mine. “It’s fine. Keep talking,” I whisper.
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and his ocean eyes glaze over. He’s a million miles away from here in this moment. “He’s alive,” he chokes out. Two words that could mean as little or as much as I want.
“Who is alive?”
“The hostage.” Again. Dax did his job. What could possibly make him this upset? A man who is never perturbed or shaken by anything is on the verge of a breakdown in broad daylight in our coffee shop.
He realizes I’m still not following because he takes one deep breath and then another. “Cody Ridge is alive, Lane. He was the hostage I rescued.”
The next seconds are a blur of Dax’s words bouncing around in my skull. Alive. Cody. Alive. Cody. Alive. Cody. I don’t even pause to consider if his words are truth. I know they are. He wouldn’t lie to me about something of this magnitude. Cody Ridge, my deceased fiancé. I remember the empty casket I buried. I didn’t even get to bury his body. They told me it wasn’t recovered. There’s a stuffed dog, a letter I wrote to him, a photo of us, some childhood mementos, and a memory stick with code buried six feet under a tombstone that bears his name. The flag that was draped over his casket sits above my fireplace in my home in Virginia Beach. How is this possible? I’m burning, my chest is burning. My heart. It’s a burn that sears my soul—a jagged wound ripped open so wide I bet New York City just stopped to rubberneck.
“Breathe, Lainey. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe,” Dax says. I hear the worry in his voice. I want to do as he says, but I can’t. I can’t breathe. Cody Ridge is alive.
“No,” I finally manage to say. My coffee soaks through my blouse and my skirt. Dax is pressing napkins against my neck to mop up the spill I didn’t even know occurred.
He kisses my forehead. “I didn’t believe it either. How could I? It was impossible. He’s alive.” Images of his funeral flash every time I blink. The pain. The unknown factor. The grief. The years and years of grief and unbearable pain. How can this be?
I shake my head as hot tears spring to my eyes. “No.” Now I remember fond memories of Cody and I. The time I made him ride a roller coaster and he actually got sick. Vacations spent in Cabo tan, naked and so in love we couldn’t see straight…or walk straight. His laugh. Cody’s laugh could cure any ailment. The night he proposed and I couldn’t say yes fast enough or loud enough. I yelled it at the top of that mountain, all sweaty from a hike. It was Christmastime, my favorite time of year. I never let myself think of these memories. They’re too painful.
My gaze darts back to the television. I suppose I’m waiting for a photo of Cody to flash across the screen. Something. Anything—to signal this impossible truth as a fact. Maybe that would make it real. I have so many questions I want to ask. Words don’t come, but tears do. They flow in a cascade down my face as a new wave of unfamiliar grief washes over me. Dax’s beautiful, anguished face pierces the piece of my heart that he owns. He knows he can’t be my hero right now. No one can save me from this.
Cody Ridge, the love of my life is alive, and I’m sitting in our coffee shop falling to fragments because of it.
Chapter Three
Cody
Present Day
“I’m sure. No dates.” I laugh. Molly, my administrative assistant, tries to set me up any chance she can get. She’s this spunky woman with a penchant for organization and controlling things. She is amazing at her job.
Molly sighs on the other end of the phone. “It’s Friday, Cody. Just a coffee date?” She’s a good employee. I let her schedule a lot of things for me. Dates aren’t one of those things. It doesn’t mean she’ll give up. First it was dinner and a movie with her friend Laura. Then it was just dinner and now we’re at a lowly coffee date. “Aren’t you the least bit interested?”
I have to think about her question. Am I interested in other women? How can I be? In my fucked up mind, I’m still with Lainey. It’s as if my life here in the real world was merely paused while I rotted in hell for all those years. Obviously I understand that time passed and everything changed, but it’s hard to grasp. It’s hard to think about moving on.
I chuckle. “No thanks, Molly. You have a good weekend, though. Tell that boyfriend of yours to behave. He has important shit to do on Monday.” He’s also one of my employees. A big lumbering man with dark eyes and a shot so lethal even I wouldn’t take my chances in a draw. Horse is a man no one fucks with. It amuses me to think of Molly razzing him. Does he own a laugh? Something to ponder over another time.
“I know, boss. I’m the brains behind this operation,” Molly drawls. Everyone works from wherever they want. This has to be the best job in the world with regards to freedom. “I’ll make sure he’s well rested…and uh, well, everything’d before his flight on Monday.” He better be. He’s hunting down someone important—someone I’d give anything to hunt myself, but I can’t chase them all. It’s physically impossible. The guys know how important each job is. Whether it’s just to gather intel, teach others how to defend themselves, or to do more, we are metho
dical. I need Horse to glean as much information as possible next week. The man he’s after has ties with the men I’m after.
My blood boils. Molly clears her throat. “Did you hear me?”
“Repeat, please.” It’s common for me to get lost in thought. She knows this. She is, in fact, the brains behind my operation after all.
She sighs. “I said Dances like the Wind called while you were on a phone call. You should really tell Lainey I can recognize her voice.” She called me? My heart stutters. The blood that was boiling starts pumping. I haven’t heard from her since the first time I saw her after my rescue. That was when I just returned to life. Before I had my business or anything except old dreams and a big case of what-ifs. I can’t help it. A cheesy smile breaks across my face. It feels out of place, big time.
“Dances like the Wind called? Really? When were you planning on telling me this tidbit, Silent Secret Harboring Hobbit?” After the joke leaves my mouth I clamp it shut. What did I say?
Molly laughs. It’s a snorting, guffawing noise that helps ease the embarrassment. I play with an external hard drive that sits on my desk, tossing it up and catching it on the opposing end while I wait for her to catch her breath. “You made a funny. Cody Ridge made a funny. I’m writing this down so I can tell Horse later.”
“Don’t tell Horse anything. I’ll fire you.”
There’s a long pause on the phone line. I know what it means. “I shouldn’t have told you. Not that you should take advice from me, but it will be a mistake if you call her back. Mark my words.” Of course it will. She’s engaged to be married to another man. Another SEAL. A brother. Someone I respect. She waited years to move on. Despite all of these things, I already know curiosity will get the best of me. Why is she calling after all this time?
“Where will you be working from next week?” She glosses right on to the next subject. I think about it. Then I think about it some more. Lainey called me. Is she in NYC? Why is my mind even wandering there? I do have a ton of work I can do from my computer. Hacking into accounts, codes that need to be worked out so I can get my hands on information, programs to debug and overall mischief to be perfected. I can do these things anywhere. I toss and catch the hard drive, the beautifully portable workstation, and decide to leave my week open.
I clear my throat. “I’ll get back to you.”
“Okay. If I hear from Dances like the Wind and she changes her name to Lying Cheating Scandal I’m sending Laura over to lure you away.” Laura? Oh, the friend she’s trying to fix me up with.
“Molly, go work. Leave me to my personal life, which obviously isn’t personal enough.”
I hear her shuffle her phone. She’ s probably leaving her home office. “Oh, come on. I get it, Cody. Lainey will always be it for you. You’d be balls deep in her right now if those assholes didn’t steal you away from your life. But the fact is you’re going to have to move on. You can do it delicately or you can do it all at once. All that matters is to move the heck on. I’d screw your brains out myself, but I don’t think—”
I cut her off. “No.” Horse’s face crosses my mind. Maybe he doesn’t laugh at all. Ever. “I don’t need any favors.”
She huffs. “I was obviously just joking to make a point. You’re a catch. Be a catch. Play the field.” No words have ever seemed more like a bad idea. Not only am I too tied up in my work, but she’s correct—Lainey is it for me. Always. There’s no moving on after I’ve had a taste of perfection. It was the image of coming home to her that kept me alive during my years in captivity. Solely her. For that reason alone I know I will call her back. I make light work of confirming my scheduled telemeetings with Molly and give her answers to several questions she asks, and our nightly catch-up meeting is done.
Swiveling in my desk chair, I pad over to the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks Manhattan. They don’t call it the city that never sleeps for nothing. It’s nine at night and it’s bustling. Office lights in the skyscrapers are still lit, workers burning the midnight oil, or having torrid affairs with their secretaries after hours. I shake my head, thinking of Molly’s ludicrous joke about sleeping with me. I haven’t slept with a woman in so long that I’m considering adding Born again Virgin to the end of my name. My bare-chested silhouette gleams back at me in the freshly cleaned glass. A few scars mark my chest, and the full complement of tattoos I got when I returned make me almost unrecognizable as a former Naval Officer. My blond hair is longer, my eyes are a little darker, my soul a little less pure than it was before. Surely Lainey doesn’t want to talk to me? This person?
I call her back—her cell phone number is still the same as it was all those years ago. I know it by heart. I always will, even if it becomes someone else’s phone number. I’ll probably go crazy as an old man and call the number every day in hopes of hearing her say hello. Her phone rings a few times and I’m about to hang up when she finally answers.
“Cody,” she says, out of breath and obviously surprised. I smile. My reflection in the glass shocks me. I almost look happy. Quickly, I look away. Her voice reverberates in my soul. It sounds exactly the same, yet completely different.
I sigh. “Fast Lane,” I reply, my voice shaky. She takes a few more deep breaths and I reconsider. Maybe she’s not out of breath, perhaps she’s extremely nervous. That would be a new occurrence. I’ve never made her nervous before. She trusted me implicitly—with her secrets, with her body, and most importantly, her mind. “Molly gave me the message that you called. Or someone who makes up names just like you do called,” I say.
I can hear her face turning red over the phone line. “Yeah, sorry. I opened my mouth and it just popped out. Typical diarrhea mouth. You know?” I grin. The woman is utterly endearing.
“I figured. Molly knew it was you. So,” I prompt, running a hand through my hair.
I hear doors closing in the background wherever Lainey is. She’s leaving the room. Hiding? From him. “I know it’s been forever. I just needed time to sort through everything, you know? It took a long time for me to even believe you were alive. Somehow even seeing you in the hospital bed…after you came home just wasn’t…real. I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me, but I was hoping you’d meet with me. Cody.” She says my name because she wants to hear it, I can tell. I wonder if it tastes differently now that oceans of time and space have drowned our relationship.
It feels as if something large and sticky is lodged in my chest. I can hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth. Unsuccessfully, I clear the emotion from my throat. This isn’t part of the plan. I’ve learned the only thing I can count on is change. One quality a man must have in this world is versatility. “Oh, Lane. Is that a good idea? I don’t blame you for the less than stellar welcome home. Years passed. No one is the blame for that.” Actually there are people to blame. I just haven’t tracked them down quite yet.
“Don’t feel guilty, but meeting up now? After all this time? Of course I will if that’s what you truly want. If it helps you find closure.” The words are all lies. I care a lot. I want to see Lainey with every fiber in my being. My bones, all of them, want her in every possible way. When she glanced at me in the hospital bed for the first time in over three and a half years, but then turned from the room without saying a word, it was worse than torture. “It’s what you want?” I ask again, praying to whoever is out there she answers with a yes.
“Yes.” Firm. Assured. Lainey has thoroughly thought this through. It shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. It’s been so long. I assumed she was well on her way to a happily ever after with the new SEAL who stole her heart.
My smile wanes as reality trickles into my awareness. “I don’t want to sneak around. Your significant other knows you want to see me? This isn’t me jumping to any conclusions, mind you. I know seeing me is just that…seeing me. But will he think the same?”
The phone crackles. “I’ll tell him.” My chest clenches. She’s still with him. Of course she is. Who would let a woman
like that go? “It’s just an innocent meeting. Dax understands.” Maybe for her it will be innocent. His name. Dax. I look up at the ceiling. Turning, I walk away from the window and back toward the kitchen, gripping the cell phone tighter against my ear. “When and where?” I ask. “I’m in Manhattan this weekend, but my schedule is flexible.” I’m not sure how much Lainey knows about my life these days. She knows about my home here, and about my work, but I’m not sure what else. The media had a field day after I was rescued. My face was plastered everywhere and then again when I opened Ridge Contracting. I remember the headlines, ‘Former SEAL opens contracting company. America’s elite scramble for employment.’ It depends on how badly she wanted information about me. It’s all out there. For multiple reasons.
“I can meet you in Manhattan tomorrow,” she replies. “I’m in Virginia Beach right now. I’ll just tie up some loose ends with work first.”
“I can go there,” I reply, barely containing my excitement. “I have to ask one more time, Lane. Why now?” It’s a valid question. A stronger man would tell her no—that she lost that chance when she refused to speak to me after years apart.
She sighs. My entire body responds like a match lighting. I can envision her face…her small nose pinched on one side as she contemplates her answer, her bottom lip worrying between her teeth.
Slinging a leg over my barstool, I hang my head in one hand and close my eyes. “Why now?” I ask again.
“Our relationship was…is… like a shoe with really long shoe strings. No matter how you tie those things you still trip over the laces.” Always eloquent. “I wanted you to recover. Dax needed me to be…a different person. I couldn’t handle it. It was too much. As my wedding approaches I’m finding the shoelaces longer than ever.”
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