Chapter Three Audrey #2
“It’s okay,” I told him, knowing he needed both of us to agree before following any kind of order.
Chase shifted around so I could see his face. His lips rolled inward, his eyes still suspiciously darting between us, assessing the uncomfortable situation. Smart beyond his years.
Once he hesitantly took off for the cocoa he didn’t care about, Trevor gently took me by the arm, a silent order to have that moment in private.
I quietly allowed him to guide me down the hall to his office. Books lined the walls, and as the door softly clicked shut, I sought them out as a refuge while waiting for what would probably be a lecture.
“How much did you hear?” His words projected low and deep as I removed a book from the shelf.
Silence of the Lambs. I thumbed through it until I landed on a dog-eared page. “Really? No bookmark?” I faced him, holding up the evidence of his crime.
“Audrey.” He let my name stretch, a plea for me to focus on his question.
I turned away, returning the book to its place, curious how many months or years it’d been since page fifty was folded over and those words were left to live their fictional lives without him.
“Does Eden not want me here?”
“Of course she does,” he shot back without hesitation.
I could feel him closing in behind me. “Please don’t lie to me. You were never good at it.”
“I unfortunately tried to lie to you quite a lot, didn’t I?” Regret seeped into his voice and had me guilt-turning around.
“You just had trouble talking about everything you went through. White-lied your way through your struggles. There’s a difference.”
“Shut one too many doors in your face.” That solemn tone hurt to hear as he hung his head, tearing a hand through his hair.
“I’m trying to be the man I should have been before .
. .” He looked up, meeting my eyes. “For our son,” he said steadily, as if worried I might misread his intentions, and I was thankful for the clarification.
I reached for his forearm and gave him a gentle squeeze.
“You have to stop beating yourself up. The war . . . it just . . .” What could I possibly say that he didn’t already know?
I’d only ever imagined walking that mile in his shoes (well, combat boots) to try to understand.
He’d been the one to wear them every day.
“I know, I know. I’m here now. We all are. Fresh start for us as co-parents.” He forced a smile. “I’m trying to make this work, I promise.”
“And you’re really happy not jumping from planes anymore?” I frowned, worried about him all over again, especially with that hesitant look.
All he did was nod.
I knew him well enough to know that was a yes and a no. Yes, he was happy to be fully present in Chase’s life. Attend his hockey practices and never miss a game. Be there for his sister at the lodge to help her out too.
But also, I heard the unspoken no. He was miserable no longer being part of a team and saving the world.
Wasn’t there a happy medium somehow? There had to be.
I’d tried to have that conversation with him a hundred times before he turned in his official papers and left the navy. I had to assume Eden had, too, but when the man made up his mind, there was no turning back.
“I’m going to find out who broke into your place and handle it,” he said, steering the conversation back into territory he could control. His jaw tightened, blue eyes sharp on mine as he ground out, “You have my word.”
I let go of his arm and stepped back. I recognized that look, and I didn’t like it being aimed at me. “What are you keeping from me?”
“Nothing.”
“Trevor.”
He rubbed his temple as if he’d been the one hit instead. “You know me.”
“And that’s supposed to mean . . . ?”
His hand fell to his side. “That I won’t rest until whoever’s responsible for Friday’s break-in is taken out, that’s all.”
“Fine,” I huffed out, nowhere near satisfied with his answer, but I’d let it go for now. I pointed up, a silent message he’d understand. “But are you really okay with me staying until then? Same roof and all.”
His head tilted. “Would you like me to build a second one?”
I sighed. “Something tells me you would.”
“I’m fine, I swear. Haven’t thought about you naked in at least five years.” He winked, and I swatted his arm, letting go of a laugh.
“Smart-ass.”
A grin cut across his face; then he lifted his chin as a directive. “Change. Eat. Relax. And get used to being here until I know it’s safe for you to go home. Got it?”
I rolled my eyes at his punctuated commands, though he probably didn’t realize they’d come out so order-like. “What? No cocoa for me, too?”
“Take that up with the boss. Maybe she’ll give you a cup.” He turned to the side. “Now, scram. I have shit to do.”
A soft chuckle broke the last of the wall between us. “Fine, fine.” I glanced down at my clothes, pondering throwing a shower somewhere in that chain of commands he’d given me. “Did my brother tell you that—”
“That he plans on showing up to mark his territory? Show who’s boss?”
“Guess he’ll soon find out it’s Eden, not you.” I smothered my smile with the back of my hand. “Oh, and, um, do me a favor and be nice to his friend coming here today. He should be here any second.”
“And who is this ‘friend’?” he asked, air quotes in full force. “He going to be a problem?”
“Why in the world would Ryder’s friend be a problem?”
“Because you have . . .” He squeezed one eye closed like he regretted starting that sentence. “You have the tendency to see the good in people where there isn’t any.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
A steady, gruff breath escaped his lips. “You never gave up on me even after I did, even after you should have. And as for Mitch, well . . . you know how I feel about him. Never liked the guy. And as much as I hate speaking ill of the dead, we both know he didn’t deserve you.”
I had no idea how to answer that, so I didn’t respond. Instead, I gave him a nod, then went to open the door.
The fresh smell of pine hit me as I halted when he remarked, “Just so I’m clear: Nothing will stop me from making sure no one ever hurts you again.”
I shivered as if an icy hand had touched my bare skin. “I have no plans to get my heart broken, so you don’t have to worry about that.” I peeked back at him over my shoulder. “Okay?”
“And how can you guarantee you’ll keep that from happening?”
“I think you know,” I said somberly.
He grimaced and rested his hands on his hips while whispering, “That’s what I was afraid of.”