Chapter Twenty-Six
The month of August saw Gus visit five countries. He worked like a son-of-a-bitch and spent all his time on the road. In hotels. In meetings. He even attended functions that required suits. Something he usually hated.
He did all of it to forget, but damned if a certain woman with auburn hair and eyes that could see into a man’s soul would let him. Hell, even the blonde in Germany hadn’t tempted him, and she’d all but stripped naked in the middle of the hotel lobby.
He was grumpy as hell, tired, and wanted nothing more than to sit in the dark and nurse a bottle of Scotch.
It was late, Friday night — the eve of the long Labor Day weekend, and Gus had been back in DC for exactly two hours. He’d been doing what he’d wanted to do and was halfway through a bottle of single malt when his doorbell rang out.
“The fuck?” He glanced at the TAG Heuer on his wrist and frowned. When he opened the door, his scowl deepened. “Little late for house calls.”
Walker grinned and pushed past him. “Your fault. You didn’t answer my text.”
“Just so you know, when a person doesn’t answer a text, it usually means they don’t want to be bothered.”
“I see it as a cry for help.”
If looks could kill, Walker would be a puddle of blood and guts. He held up the bottle of Scotch and poured a glass when Walker gave a nod. He handed it to Walker, then proceeded to chug straight from the bottle. He let the fire burn and settle in his gut, then turned to his buddy.
“Just say it.”
“You look like shit.”
“I’m nearly a bottle deep.”
“About that.” Walker sipped from his glass. “You’re not the guy who drinks alone unless something’s wrong.”
Annoyed, he snarled, “Why the fuck are you here? I closed our deals.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s officially the kick off to the long weekend, and I’m not back in the office until Tuesday.”
Walker was quiet for a few seconds, and when he spoke, his voice was low. It was full of memory. “Dalton Daniels, remember him?”
How could he forget the man who saved their lives on that last mission?
“He could never head out until he spoke to his wife. Do you remember how we used to tease the hell out of him for it?” Walker looked down at his glass. “He would just look at us and call us—”
“Dumb fucks.”
Walker nodded. “Dumb fucks with nothing to lose. Then he’d tell us that he had everything to lose.”
“That having everything to lose made him a better SEAL. A better man.”
“Why are you bringing him up?”
Walker turned to Gus. “He was right, about that. Having more. Wanting more than just to follow orders.”
“I don’t understand where this is headed.”
“I’m talking about love.”
“You can screw a woman without wanting her forever.”
“You’ve never been in love?” Walker asked, his surprise obvious.
“No. Have you?” Gus was curious.
Walker shrugged. “Maybe. But I was young and dumb and who the fuck knows.”
“What did it feel like?”
“Jesus. We sound like a goddamn Hallmark movie.” Walker had a pained expression on his face.
“Look, this is what I know. You and I have seen the worst of humanity and then some. I think it fucks with our minds knowing the damage a human being can do to another. Maybe it makes us question the validity of what it means to love someone.”
Gus set down the bottle as he considered those words. “My experience with love is different. And maybe that experience molds a person, but it doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”
Walker shrugged. “But it’s out there. One thousand percent it is.
We’ve seen it play out hundreds of times.
You can’t see that kind of pain without knowing there was love.
Hell, my parents act like they’re fifteen half of the time.
They got it right. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that if you meet a woman who makes you want to take on the world to keep her safe, that means something.
If her smile stays with you all day, that means something.
If you can’t picture a future without her in it, well, that means a hell of a lot more. ”
Walker raised his eyebrow. “What does your future look like? That’s the question you need to be asking yourself.”
“Why are we talking about feelings?” he scoffed and snatched up the Scotch. But this time, the burn wasn’t as good. It nearly made him gag.
“You’re not right.” Walker spoke quietly, but his words carried some weight.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“There’s a girl in Fire Lake who means something to you. There’s a family there who mean something to you.”
“Ford and Sunday don’t want us there.”
“Since when do you let someone dictate the rules? I get that they have trauma. I get that it bleeds through decades and follows a person into adulthood. But you’ve got trauma too.
Hell, all of you do, and there’s no way any of you are getting past it until you all meet up and deal. Sunday is a mess and she—”
“How do you know what Sunday is or isn’t?”
Walker’s expression changed. It was subtle but Gus caught it. “She’s off limits.”
“What? Don’t worry about that. The woman can’t stand the sight of me. But I was trained to observe, and she needs some kind of closure.” Walker dipped his head back and finished his tumbler. “You all do.”
He strode to the door. “Your plants are all dead. This place isn’t your home, bud.
Go back to Fire Lake. Go back to Faith.” He opened the door but paused.
“Don’t worry about the business. I’ll take the meeting in Argentina next week.
We’ll figure out a way to make it work. Go home and clean up the mess you made before it eats at you so bad you’ll never recover. ”
Gus stared into the dark for a long time. So long in fact, that his bleary eyes witnessed the first rays of sunlight split the night sky. He felt like shit and decided a shower would make things right.
But ten minutes later, as he stood in the middle of his expensive home, there at the top of one of the most prestigious addresses in DC, he realized that Walker was right.
The penthouse was filled with expensive things, but it was empty.
There were no plants — none that were alive, anyway. No books. No Taco or dog treats.
He was empty.
The sun ebbed closer and sent light streaming through the windows, spilling gold into the dark. He realized it was nothing compared to the sun breaking over Fire Lake. That this place had nothing on the home he’d made there. And without a certain woman in it, he was as empty as this penthouse.
With a good long, hard gaze, he turned in a full circle, wondering if he was about to make the second biggest mistake of his life.
“Only one way to find out.” He grabbed his cell phone from the counter and searched for the one name he couldn’t forget. His finger hovered over it for a few seconds and then he typed.
I’m coming home.
Gus pressed send and then stared at the message that now showed delivered. His fingers hovered once more, and before he could stop himself, he added one last text.
I love you.
He stared at the words. Said them out loud so that he could. And then smiled. They sounded good. They felt right.
His finger hovered over the text, and he realized he wanted her in front of him when he said them. He wanted to feel and see her reaction. He left the message unsent and got busy making plans.