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Escape (Last Chance Series, Book 3.5)

Page 2

by Davis, Dee


  She reached for the next file, a body found frozen in a well in Minnesota. A presumed accident that already was looking like anything but. Dental records had identified the deceased as an employee of a DOD contractor—located in California. Originally from Texas, there was nothing to indicate that the man had any reason to have been in Minnesota. She flipped to the latest report hoping for something to elaborate on cause of death and then froze, frowning as something rattled beyond the bedroom doorway. Moving slowly, she rolled over, reaching for the drawer in the bedside table that held her gun.

  Then the metal clang of a pan hitting the cast iron burner registered. The kitchen.

  Oh God.

  Seth.

  She’d completely forgotten.

  Her gaze moved across the room to the chair with his shirt and jacket draped across the back. Even in the aftermath of mind-blowing sex, he was always one for things in their proper place. They made quite a pair.

  She smiled, feeling a little guilty that she’d forgotten about him, even if only for a moment. It was always like that when she started to think about work. Everything else completely blocked from her mind.

  It had been a deal breaker for most of the men she’d dated. And to be honest that had suited her just fine. She liked things simple. Good sex. A little companionship. And maybe the occasional dinner partner for necessary functions.

  Anything else demanded too much. She was committed first and foremost to her work. And thankfully, so was Seth. One of the FBI’s top counterterrorist agents, he was often on assignment for months at a time. Usually undercover and therefore unreachable. Which worked nicely with the fact that she, too, was also often engrossed in a case for long periods of time.

  When they were together it was always amazing. But just as important, when it came time to get back to work, there were no recriminations. She’d played that game before and she wasn’t interested in doing it again.

  Still, she understood how lucky she was to have someone like Seth in her life. Someone who understood where she was coming from. Someone who accepted that she wasn’t interested in the white picket fence.

  As if on cue, Seth appeared in the doorway, a crooked smile on his face, wearing nothing but his tux pants. She swallowed hard, her eyes drifting along the hard planes of his chest, following the thin line of hair that led to the part of his body she loved the best.

  His smile widened as he recognized the drift of her thoughts. “Food first.” With a flourish, he held out a tray holding a plate, covered with a pan lid and a single rosebud in a shot glass. She recognized the rose from the arrangement in the foyer, a ridiculously extravagant weekly luxury she’d allowed herself once her company had made it big. “Okay so the bloom is borrowed,” he shrugged, correctly following the direction of her thoughts. “The gesture is mine.”

  He crossed over to the bed, and held out the tray.

  Tracy pulled the sheet more securely around her, not sure exactly why she felt the need for modesty, but a niggle of something worked its way up her spine. She’d made a name for herself using intuition and now, suddenly, the alarm bells were clanging in her head.

  Seth looked nervous and…hopeful.

  Tracy’s heart sank.

  She took the tray, feeling suddenly, like Alice, that she’d fallen through the looking glass.

  Holding her breath, she pulled off the makeshift plate cover, praying for eggs. Instead, a diamond glittered among an artfully arranged bed of rose petals.

  Damn it. It was perfect.

  And impossible.

  “What’s this?” she choked out, trying without success, to keep her voice light.

  Seth had dropped to one knee. “I know it isn’t as romantic as it should be,” he said. “But it always seems like we’re on borrowed time. And I just thought…” he paused, his green eyes glittering with emotion, “I mean, what I’m trying to say, and not doing very well obviously, is that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He paused, for a moment, reaching for her hand. “So will you marry me?”

  “Oh God, Seth,” she said, pulling her fingers free, clutching the sheet more tightly around her as she watched pain flash across his face. “I’m sorry. I thought I’d made it clear how I feel about marriage.”

  “You did,” he said, his voice clipped as he stepped away from her, and she wished she could just turn back the clock and somehow escape this moment. Anything to avoid hurting him like this. But there was no changing the way she felt. Marriage had never been an option. “I guess I just thought that maybe with me it was different.”

  “It is different,” she protested, feeling like the proverbial rug had been jerked from beneath her. “I thought we were both on the same page. We don’t live the kind of lives that fit with marriage. You’re gone. I’m gone. Our work comes first. I thought we shared that.”

  “And I thought that was precisely the reason why we do fit together. Why it’s right. Why you were the one. I love you, Tracy. And I thought you loved me.”

  Love was a fucking four letter word. It was trite, but true. And she’d never reacted well when backed into a corner. “Of course I care about you,” she said, fighting to breathe. How the hell had they gotten to this point? “But I thought things were really good the way they were—the way they are.”

  “No strings.” Seth retreated another step.

  “Of course there are strings. I just told you how much I care about you. Only you. But not marriage.” She held up a hand. “I was clear from the beginning. Marriage just isn’t for me.” She almost added ‘not again’ but held the words. This wasn’t the time for true confessions. Either Seth understood or he didn’t. She wasn’t going to compromise. Her freedom—her life—was everything. And no man was worth giving that up for.

  Not even Seth.

  Her heart twisted in pain, but she pushed it aside. She’d set the rules from the beginning. She’d be damned if she’d feel guilty because he’d chosen to break them.

  “I see.” It was clear he didn’t see anything, and Tracy felt a moment of panic. But there was nothing to discuss. She did care about Seth. Maybe more than she’d ever cared about anyone else before. But that didn’t mean that she had to surrender to his need for some kind of traditional commitment.

  “Obviously you don’t,” she said, hating the note of pleading in her voice. “Seth, I love what we have. And I don’t want to lose it. But I haven’t changed my mind. I don’t want to marry anyone.”

  “Meaning you don’t want to marry me.” He nodded as if accepting an unwanted edict.

  “It’s not about you.”

  “The hell it isn’t,” he said, grabbing his shirt off the chair and pulling it on, his anger palpable.

  “Seth.” She pushed the tray aside, moving to intercept him. “Why can’t we just keep things the way they are? It works. We’re happy.”

  “Maybe you are. But when I fall in love with a woman, I want to scream to the world that she’s mine.”

  “Mine being the operative word,” Tracy said, fighting a surge of anger. “I’m not a property you can acquire.”

  “I never said that you were. I love you, goddamn it, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Is that so wrong?”

  Tracy felt as if she were drowning. “No. It’s lovely. Except that it’s not what I want. And I thought you were the one man who understood that.”

  “So this is it? You’re saying no?”

  “I’m not saying no to you, Seth.” She struggled to breathe, wishing to hell that she could turn back the clock. “I’m saying no to marriage. It isn’t the same.”

  “It is to me.” He finished buttoning his shirt and reached out to snag his jacket. “So clearly, we’re not on the same page after all.”

  “And what? You’re issuing an ultimatum? Either I marry you or it’s over?” How could she have missed this? She’d thought he understood. Recognized her fears and accepted them.

  “I guess I am. Just because you’re afraid of commitment doesn�
�t mean that I don’t want it. Or for that matter deserve it. I love you, Tracy, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m not going to apologize for that.”

  “I’m not asking you to apologize. I just want things to stay the way they are. We don’t need a piece of paper.”

  “I do. And I guess I thought you loved me enough to take the leap with me.”

  “I just don’t understand why we need a leap at all. Everything works the way it is.”

  “No.” He shook his head, the sadness in his eyes damning. “It doesn’t. When two people love each other—commitment is easy. Or at least a risk worth taking. And the fact that you can’t go there—well, let’s just say it’s telling.” He blew out a breath, and she felt the power of his disappointment.

  Just like her father.

  Whatever it was she wanted was never good enough. There was always a better path. An accepted path.

  Tears filled her eyes. “So this is it?” her voice wavered, but she knew his decision was firm.

  Seth stood in the doorway to the bedroom, at once familiar and a stranger. “Yes. Either we move forward together or clearly this was never meant to be.”

  A part of her was screaming that he was wrong, but she could see the determination in his eyes, and so she squared her shoulders, pushing the pain down deep inside. “Then I guess this is goodbye.”

  He nodded once then turned, swinging his tux jacket over his shoulder. Tracy swallowed the tears, telling herself it was better to find out now. But as the abandoned diamond glittered on the plate, she wished she’d been born somebody else. A woman who wanted nothing more than to find the right man and be a wife.

  But she’d never been that woman. Not even for someone like Seth. Her eyes fell to the rose petals. Plain and simple, she wasn’t the marrying kind. And even the most beautiful proposal couldn’t change that.

  Chapter 2

  “Give me another.” Seth pushed the shot glass toward the burly bartender, nodding at the Irish whiskey sitting on the counter.

  The man lifted the bottle and filled the glass. Seth downed it in one swallow and pushed it forward for another. “Bad night?” the guy asked, as he poured again.

  “Yeah, the worst.”

  “Well, keep this up and you’re going to have one hell of a morning to go with it.” It wasn’t a judgment, just a statement of fact. And Seth nodded in agreement as the man moved off to serve a patron at the far end of the bar.

  Seth blew out a breath, and ran a hand through his hair. This wasn’t exactly the way he’d planned for the night to end. He’d been so fucking sure of himself. How the hell had he gotten it so wrong? Despite what Tracy had said, they did fit. The two of them belonged together, he was certain of it. Not that his feelings mattered. Tracy had certainly made that clear.

  He blew out a breath, taking a sip of the whiskey as he replayed her words for the thousandth time. The truth was that she had told him she didn’t want to get married. But he’d written it off as the kind of thing he would have said to a woman he hadn’t wanted to get serious with. Hell, when she’d said it originally, he’d been relieved.

  But then he’d fallen in love with her. And he’d believed that she’d fallen in love with him. But obviously he’d gotten that one wrong. He looked down at his phone, tempted to give his friend Harrison a call.

  After all, Harrison had been the one to introduce the two of them. But Harrison was an hour away. At Sunderland. Or maybe even farther afield if he was on the job. Harrison currently worked for a black ops division of the CIA, but before that he’d been with an intergovernmental task force called Last Chance. Best of the best sort of thing. And Seth had consulted with Harrison for one of their cases.

  The two of them had hit it off, and Harrison had called him in on several CIA operations as well. Over the years the two of them had become friends. And so it had only been natural that Harrison would have brought him and Tracy together. She often consulted for both Last Chance and the CIA and besides, she and Harrison went way back.

  He could still see her that night at the party. Dressed all in white, her dark hair piled high on her head. He’d felt as if someone had slammed him in the gut. Harrison had laughed and said it was fate. Or a stomach virus.

  Hell, he’d been going to ask Harrison to be his best man.

  He drained the glass, glanced over at the bartender, who was still talking with the guy at the end of the bar. With a shrug, he grabbed the bottle and filled the glass himself. Desperate times and all that.

  The funny thing about all of this was that he’d never thought he’d find a woman who would understand him the way Tracy did. She understood his need to walk the line. His commitment to making the world a better place. She got it in a way no woman he’d ever been with had been capable of.

  And until that night at Harrison’s party, he’d been convinced that having it all was out of reach. That he just wasn’t cut out for a long-term relationship. But they’d stayed up most of the night talking. And screwing. He smiled at the memory. But it had been more than that. From the very beginning he’d felt a connection. A kinship. It was like he’d come home.

  Only clearly he’d been a fucking fool. Whatever it was he’d felt, she hadn’t shared the emotion. Or if she had, she was willing to throw it all away for the sake of maintaining her freedom.

  He took a sip, relishing the burst of heat as it slid down his throat. How ironic was it that he’d finally fallen—and fallen hard—only to be rejected in the same way he’d rejected the women in his past who’d thought they could change him. Turn him into a nine-to-five-picket-fence kind of guy.

  Turns out karma was a bitch.

  He looked at the phone again, wishing to hell Tracy would call. Tell him she’d changed her mind. But he knew her well enough to know that no matter how much he wished it so, it wasn’t going to happen. Tracy was the kind of woman who didn’t just close doors, she slammed them shut, and then drove in nails just to be sure they stayed that way.

  He’d fucked up royally. And there was no going back.

  The bartender moved down to his end of the bar, picking up the bottle to top off the glass. “On me,” he said as he poured. “And whatever it was you did, I suggest you figure out how to make it right.”

  “Not sure that’s possible,” Seth said.

  “That bad?” Again there was no judgment. Just the unconditional sympathy of a stranger. Which at the moment was better than wallowing in his misery all alone.

  “Yeah. I asked her to marry me.”

  “And I take it the response wasn’t what you’d hoped for?” The guy leaned back against the counter, his expression quizzical.

  “No.” Seth shook his head, his voice filled with bitterness. “Turns out she meant it when she said she wasn’t the marrying kind.”

  “Most men would see that as a bonus,” the bartender offered.

  “Yeah, well, you haven’t met Tracy,” Seth sighed, taking another sip from his glass.

  “Must be one hell of a woman.”

  “An understatement, actually.”

  “So what happened? She just didn’t love you?”

  “No. She does. At least I know she cares. She just doesn’t want to marry me.”

  “Maybe it isn’t you. Maybe you were right the first time,” the bartender said. “Maybe it is just the idea of marriage. I mean, I can understand that. It’s not like with a guy—when a woman gets married she loses her identity.”

  “This isn’t 1950.” Seth sat back crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Yeah, but things aren’t nearly as liberated as we’d all like to pretend. If she’s already got a life then maybe she’s just afraid of losing it.”

  “I don’t know, maybe you’re right. But what difference does it make? The outcome is still the same. She said no.”

  “And you walked out, right?”

  “Yeah—what other option did I have?” He frowned, something tugging at his brain. “She rejected me.”

  �
�Sounds to me like she rejected your proposal. Not you.”

  In truth, she’d pretty much said as much. She’d wanted things to stay the same. But he’d been hurt and angry and incapable of thinking rationally. “So what, you’re saying I shouldn’t have walked out?”

  “I’m not saying anything,” the man said. “It’s my job to listen not offer advice. But if she’s even half the woman you claim she is, then it seems pretty foolish to let her go just because she doesn’t want to seal the deal in front of the justice of the peace. But hey, it’s your pity party.” He shrugged and moved to refill a beer for another patron.

  Seth clenched a fist, and blew out a long breath. Maybe the guy was right. Maybe he’d been too quick to walk away. After all, the important thing was to be with Tracy. And when had he become the poster child for happily ever after? Harrison and his girlfriend Hannah were happy. Hell, he’d never seen two people more in love. And they weren’t rushing to the alter.

  Maybe Tracy was right and he’d been too carried away with making her officially his. It wasn’t about possession. It was about loving. And that much he was damn sure of. He loved her. More than he’d ever loved anyone in his life.

  But maybe it wouldn’t be enough to just be with her. Maybe he really did need the commitment of marriage. After all his parents had just celebrated fifty years together. Or maybe he was hanging on to some outdated notions of what real love was supposed to be. Maybe he loved her enough to give her the freedom she needed. The bartender was right—Tracy hadn’t rejected him. Only the proposal.

  He’d been the one who’d walked out.

  And so now the question was whether he had the courage to walk back in again.

  *****

  Tracy paced across the bedroom, stopping once to take a sip from a glass of white wine she’d poured. The ring, still surrounded by rose petals, lay on the bed, shining up at her as if in silent rebuke. She wanted to take it and throw it out the window, but every time she went to pick it up, common sense reminded her that it had cost Seth a fortune. Better to just have it messengered back to him.

 

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