Chapter 33
Ten days later...
Eliza paced back and forth across the shop floor, her heart firmly lodged in her throat.
At some point, the damn thing had grown spikes that dug into her trachea, making it difficult to breathe. But that wasn’t the only part of her body that had turned traitor. Her hand shook as she clutched at her locket. Her lips burned where she’d bitten them.
It had been two hours since the Black Knights had landed at O’Hare. Two hours since they’d returned from a mission that had gone sideways from the start. Britt’s injury weighed heavily on her, along with knowing they hadn’t reached their objective.
What in the world went wrong out there? Human error? Faulty intel? What?
Anxiety gnawed at her stomach. Impatience poked at her brain.
Because Britt had been hurt, instead of letting them make their way home via cab, Uber, or train, Boss had rented a van to pick them up. Which meant they should’ve pulled into the compound an hour ago.
What is taking so long?
Although…if she was being honest, she could no longer rely on her ability to measure the passing of time. The seven days her guys had been OUTCONUS—military speak for outside the continental U.S.—had felt like seven years.
She was always a little bored and lonely when they were away. But this time, she’d been bored and lonely and heartbroken.And apparently that last thing caused the hours to trudge by at a snail’s pace.
She still wasn’t sure what had happened to make Fisher call it quits on their arrangement. Had she said something to drive him away? Done something to push him to end it?
She’d replayed every interaction in her mind—most of which were so steamy she’d found herself sweating. But no matter how many times she’d gone through it, an answer eluded her.
She might have thought the reason behind his decision could be blamed on her confessing her love for him. But it wasn’t like he’d heard. He’d been sawing logs like a lumberjack, and she’d been careful to keep her voice barely above a whisper.
The voice of reason that lived in the back of her head demanded, Why did you have to go and confess? Why didn’t you keep things to yourself?
The answer was simple. She’d been unable to sleep that night because her feelings had been too big to hold in. She would have burst open like a human pi?ata if she hadn’t spoken her love aloud, just once.
She’d waited until she was sure he was deep asleep before letting her feelings out. She’d said to the unconscious man all the things she’d promised herself she’d never say to the conscious man. And then she’d fallen into a deep, peaceful slumber.
If she’d known what the next morning would bring, she might have pulled a Rip Van Winkle and just stayed asleep for the next twenty years. Instead, she’d woken up with a heart full of love and a head full of ridiculous ideas that maybe…just maybe, if she played her cards right, she could convince Fisher he didn’t want to Hugh Hefner his way through life. That what he really wanted was to experience a big BKI love. With her. Because they were so, so good together, and he had to see that, right?
What an idiot I turned out to be.
I warned you the loss of him might be worse than never having him to begin with,the voice taunted.
But it’s not,she argued back. She had no regrets about becoming his lover. She’d loved every moment of being with him and she’d learned so much about him and about herself.
However, her worry that things would get complicated after they’d been together. Well, that had turned out to be justified. Because Fisher was?—
Before she could finish her thought, movement on the security feed caught her eye. Her breath strangled in her throat as she watched the heavy wrought-iron gate roll open, revealing the sight of a white van as it pulled into the compound grounds.
Relief flooded her veins, momentarily washing away her heartache and worry.
They’re home!
My guys are home!
She smashed the button on the wall that activated the garage door. Snake had replaced the shot-up motor. And this new one was quieter than the original as it rolled back the metal panels.
The summer sun had baked the blacktop outside until it looked shiny and slick. The smell of new seal coat tunneled up her nose and left an acrid taste in her mouth. And the heat was nearly enough to steal her breath.
She didn’t care.
After two weeks of living in what had come to feel like a cave, she welcomed the intensity of the sun and the chemical smell of the blacktop. Since they’d removed the various window treatments they’d hung, she’d watched the dawn of each new day from her bedroom window, promising herself she’d never again take that view for granted.
“Are they home?” Ozzie called from the War Room. He was spinning his usual hair band playlist. Currently, M?tley Crüe was telling the girls to kickstart my heart.
“Ten-four!” She shouted. And, speaking of hearts, hers raced with anticipation as the van pulled up next to the factory building and Boss cut the engine.
It seemed to take forever for someone to open the sliding door. But it eventually rolled back to reveal Britt looking wan and weary. His entire left leg was encased in a blue cast.
“My god.” She rushed forward. “Hewitt called and said you broke your leg. But I didn’t realize how bad.”
“Femur,” Britt grunted as he accepted her help out of the vehicle.
“Throw your arm around me,” she told him. “I’ll help you inside.”
“How’s ’bout you let someone more Britt’s size do the heavy lifting?” Sam hopped out after Britt and took up a position on Britt’s other side.
Graham tapped her on the shoulder. He didn’t have to say anything. In fact, he rarely said anything. She understood what he wanted her to do, though, simply from the look on his face.
Moving out of the way, she allowed Graham and Sam to haul Britt inside.
“What took you guys so long?” she asked Boss once he’d rounded the front of the van with three duffel bags in hand.
“Britt insisted we stop by Taco Bell on the way home.”
“Painkillers make me hungry for cheap, fast-food Mexican!” Britt called over his shoulder. “Think outside the bun, baby! Live mas!”
Boss chuckled. “Don’t mind him. He’s high on morphine.”
Hunter and Hewitt were at the back of the van, pulling out their go-bags. Fisher remained in the passenger seat, his phone in his hands and the screen lighting his face.
It was so good to see him and the butterflies he always managed to excite in her belly agreed. But she wondered if he was pretending to text in the hopes she’d wander off and he could avoid talking to her.
She hated the thought of that. Especially because she’d missed him like crazy.
Once again she racked her brain for what she’d done to change his mind and start acting like a bona fide jackass. And once again she came up with a big ol’ handful of nada.
“Did they tell you what went wrong?” she asked Boss, forcing her mind to latch onto a topic that wasn’t Fisher.
No easy task.
“Nope.” Boss shook his head. “Just said the whole damn thing was pear-shaped from the beginning.”
“That’s the second time that’s happened.” She felt a crease appear between her eyebrows. “I’m starting to wonder if the guy inside the D.O.D. who’s been dropping intel to Dad knows what the hell he’s doing.”
“That’s a question for another day.” Boss shifted all three duffels to one hand so his giant paw could grip her shoulder and give it a comforting squeeze. “For now, let’s be glad they’re home and give them time for some R and R.”
“Right.” She nodded.
When Hewitt and Hunter lumbered past her, their shoulders weighed down with all their gear and Britt’s crutches, she told them, “I made spaghetti and lasagna. There’s tiramisu for dessert. If you’re not full of Taco Bell, of course.”
“I’ll take you up on that, thanks,” Hunter said over his shoulder as his foot landed on the metal staircase’s first tread. “In high school, I got a case of Montezuma’s revenge from Taco Hell and haven’t been able to touch the stuff since. Mind if I load some up in Tupperware to take home to Grace?”
“Not at all.” She shook her head. “Everything is on the stove. Help yourself whenever you’re ready.”
“Has Becky eaten yet?” Boss glanced at his wife who was in the shop welding some framework. Becky wore pink bib overalls over a white tank top, and her thin, muscular biceps bulged as she worked. Becky had always given Eliza arm-envy.
“Not yet. She was waiting on you.”
“Excellent.” He smiled broadly. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“You avoided Taco Bell too?”
“Nah. I ate two burritos. But you know me. That was just an appetizer.”
She chuckled and watched him saunter up the stairs to deliver her guy’s gear to their rooms. After he disappeared onto the second floor, she turned to see if Fisher was still sequestered in the van.
She nearly fell over backward when she realized he was standing directly behind her, his own duffel thrown over his shoulder.
Her hand automatically clutched at her locket. When she realized what she was doing—a dead giveaway that she was nervous—she hastily dropped it.
“Welcome home,” she said. Or, rather, whispered because her throat had suddenly closed up.
Welcome home? Seriously? That’s the best you could come up with?
“Thanks.” He dipped his chin and then brushed by her.
She opened her mouth to say…what? She had a million things she wanted to tell him and yet she couldn’t think of a single one of them. In desperation, she reached for the one topic she knew he wouldn’t avoid. “What happened out there?”
He swung back around. She tried to read his expression and couldn’t. “Simple. Either they knew we were comin’ or they just got really, really lucky.”
She blinked uncomprehendingly. “No way they knew you were coming. If they knew that, you’d all be dead.”
“Oh, they tried. Believe me. And once they realized we were getting the best of ’em, they figured out a way to hurt Britt.”
“Hurt him? Not kill him?”
“A dead soldier reduces a force comin’ against ya by one. But a wounded man puts a strain on the entire force. They were good.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Too good.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re all okay.”
“Thanks.”
There was that word again. She was beginning to hate it.
“Is there anything I can do for Britt? Should I run to the pharmacy or?—”
“He’s got everything he needs. And the only thing that’ll heal that leg is time.”
“Right.” She nodded. When he went to turn around again, she felt desperate to keep talking to him. To keep looking at him. To keep breathing the same air. “So what about you? Is there anything I can do for you?”
God, you’re an idiot. And you sound as desperate as you feel.
He lifted an eyebrow. “What exactly is it you’re offerin’?”
She felt her cheeks flame red. “Well, not that.You made it clear we wouldn’t be doing that anymore. I just feel like maybe we got off on the wrong foot once we ended things, and I feel like if we just?—”
“People feel things all the time that are inconvenient. It sucks. But it happens.”
Blood rushed to her head. The roar of her heart in her ears was enough to give her a headache. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re tellin’ me how ya feel like we got off on the wrong foot. And I’m tellin’ ya that I’m not sure what the right one would be.” When all she could do was shake her head and blink at him, he sighed. “Look, I’m dog-tired. And I’m not sure why we’re standin’ here havin’ this conversation.”
“Because standing here in awkward silence would be worse?” she offered, trying to lighten the mood.
It didn’t work.
“This is worse than awkward silence. This is an awkward conversation.”
“I’m just trying to show I care, Fish.”
“Stop trying, Eliza.” She swallowed when he used her full name. He hadn’t done that since she’d told him she liked it when he called her Liza. “It just makes it worse.”
Tears threatened. But only for a second. Because she reminded herself he was being a dick and she didn’t deserve it.
Squaring her shoulders, she snarled, “Do you have a heart in your chest or is there just an empty space where you keep your wallet?”
Instead of answering, he asked a question of his own. “Are we done here?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, her hands curling into fists so tight her nails bit into her palms. “We’re done. Because you might not currently be the biggest asshat in the world, but you better hope the guy who is doesn’t die.”
Instead of coming back with a quick quip, he simply headed for the stairs.
She shot his broad back a venomous look. But when she saw Becky walking over to her—she had to have overhead everything—Eliza was careful to wipe her face clean and offer a smile.
“You’re right,” Becky said from the side of her mouth once Fisher disappeared onto the second floor. “He is being an asshat. I hope you’re not letting it get to you. I know you…have feelings for him.”
Eliza’s shoulders drooped. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only to anyone with eyes,” Becky affirmed unhelpfully.
“Well, damn it.” Like, seriously, DAMNIT!
“But don’t worry.” Becky nodded decisively. “You’ll get over it.” She pulled a Dum Dum from the front pocket of her overalls. “You’re beautiful and kind and smart, and there’s plenty of fish in the sea.”
Eliza would’ve loved to share Becky’s optimism, but… “Yeah. There’s lots of toxic trash too.”
Becky winced. “So what say we go crack open some beers and enjoy your Italian spread? Did you make that yummy garlic bread I like so much?”
“I did.” Eliza nodded. “But don’t you and Boss need to pick up your girls?”
“Nope.” Becky shook her head. “They’re having a sleepover at Aunt Michelle and Uncle Snake’s house. We try to take turns one weekend a month looking after each other’s kids, so we get some adult alone time.”
Boss came bounding down the stairs then. He didn’t hesitate to pull his wife into his arms and smile down at her. “I missed you.”
“You were only gone two hours.”
“All the same.” He wiggled his eyebrows before planting a smacking kiss on her mouth.
“Fine. Yes. I’ll share a beer with you guys.” Eliza was glad to have a distraction from Fisher, from her thoughts of Fisher, from her love for Fisher. “If it’ll make you stop rubbing your sickeningly wonderful relationship in my face, I’ll share ten beers with you.”
“Challenge accepted. I’ve been needing a good, ol’ fashioned, adults-only house party. ” Becky laughed and grabbed Boss by the hand to pull him toward the kitchen.
Eliza took a more leisurely journey down the hall, marveling she was still functioning when she felt as fragile as glass and as sad as a person could get. She still talked and walked like normal. Still got up in the morning, brushed her teeth twice a day, washed her makeup off before climbing into bed at night.
The human heart is stronger than I ever imagined,she admitted. Even broken into a million shards, mine still manages to pump blood.