Chapter 23
Las Vegas. Knowing Juniper as he did, John should have guessed she would have some sort of knee-jerk reaction to his rejection. I’ll show him , he could almost hear her thinking it as she returned from Honduras—humiliated and angry—and called up her erstwhile fiancé. Lets’ get married, the sooner the better. We’ll elope. How’s next weekend? Now here he was, and the most he could say for the grimy, debauched place was that it was hot, unlike DC had been.
He stared through the peephole of the door. Not the most dignified entrance, but he needed to know something before he entered.
Juniper and the fiancé stood at the front of the room, a preacher between them. The man looked about like John imagined he would, like the sort of man who worked with his head instead of his hands for his living—well-dressed with wire-rimmed glasses. Juniper, on the other hand, was spectacle-free. John squinted, staring hard at her face. She glanced at her watch, then at the clock, and that was when he saw it, or rather the lack of it. Juniper’s face, lacking her telltale dimple.
John wasn’t one for dramatic entrances. But that missing dimple was his undoing. He kicked the door open, fighting a wince when it banged hard against the wall, echoing through the small room.
“I object,” he called, loud enough for his voice to carry and reverberate.
“We haven’t gotten to that part yet,” the preacher said. “We just got started.”
“Well, I still object,” John said, walking forward. Now he stood before the duo and across from the preacher. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
“Easy way,” the preacher said. His bored tone told everyone it probably wasn’t the first time he’d had such an encounter.
“Hard way,” Juniper said, hands on hips. Her dimple flashed, in annoyance, but the sight made John smile.
“I’ll split the difference. Hard way for you, easy for them,” he assured her. He faced the two men. “I’m sorry about this. Maybe someday we can sit down like gentlemen and discuss it.” To the preacher he added. “Sorry to desecrate the holiness of this tacky chapel.”
“Who is this guy?” the still unknown fiancé asked, tone full of sufficient outrage.
“Bear,” Juniper said, outrage matching her fiancé’s.
The man’s eyes bugged. “That’s Bear? You said he was old.”
“He is,” Juniper said, stamping her foot.
“Fine, just for that,” John said and tossed her over his shoulder.
“Wait, what is going on?” the fiancé asked as John began carrying Juniper back down the aisle.
“None of your concern,” John told him. “Mind your business.”
“I’ll call you,” Juniper said.
“Oh, no, you won’t,” John contradicted, resisting the almost overpowering urge to smack her on the behind when it was so easily within his reach.
They reached the outside and he tucked her safely in his car. Juniper crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him in silence until he slid behind the wheel.
“Where are your glasses?” he demanded.
“Is that really the first thing you say to me after you force carry me out of my wedding?” she asked.
He quirked an eyebrow, waiting her out.
“I got contacts,” she said, tossing her hands wide. “Bear…”
“Wait. If we talk here, we’re going to broil. Plus there’s the chance your boyfriend could come outside. I made it thus far without breaking his nose, I’d like to see it through.”
She re-crossed her arms and glowered. John drove through the streets of Las Vegas, eventually parking in the shade of a tall building. It wasn’t cool by any means, but it was better than being in direct sunlight. He left the car running for the air, put it in park, and faced her.
They squared off, waiting to see who would break first. Since he had, in fact, carried her out of her wedding, he figured he owed her one.
“I went home.”
Her lashes fluttered furiously a few times. “Then I guess you know.”
“I do. What I don’t know is why you didn’t tell me. How could you keep something like that from me, Juni?”
Her shoulders sagged. “I didn’t want you to know.”
“Why not?”
“Because I knew if you did, you’d do something like this. You’d come get me.”
“I thought that was what you wanted,” he said.
“Of course it was what I wanted. But not like this, not out of some sense of misplaced responsibility or, worse, pity.”
“Huh,” he said, studying her. The female mind was unfathomable to him, Juniper’s especially. In Honduras she’d done nothing but tell him they should be together. And now here they were together and she said it wasn’t right.
Her eyes filled with tears. She turned away to try and hide them, but too late. John took a shaky breath. The sight of those tears was worse than being shot. Slowly, tentatively, he reached across the console and stroked the soft curls at her temple, gently, tenderly . “How about if I came to get you because I don’t want to go one more minute of my life without you?”
Her head swiveled in his direction, eyes luminous with unshed tears. She regarded him in wary silence, eyes skimming his face as if for clues. “I think I need a bit more explanation than that.”
“Of course you do. I swear, Juniper, you find it physically impossible to let me take the easy way in life.”
“You hate the easy way,” she reminded him.
“I do, at that,” he agreed happily. He took a breath. “I spent six years with your family, six years of daily hugs and I-love-yous and them trying their best to fix me. I don’t have to tell you it did not take, not even a little. I hated the hugs, cringed at every I-love-you, shied away from sharing my feelings with the group. But there was this little girl who wouldn’t give up on me. And then, fourteen years later and all grown up, she still wouldn’t give up on me. And this time I wanted every hug, every I love you, wanted to hoard them, stuff them in my pockets, get them tattooed on my arms. But all I knew was being a soldier, that’s no kind of life for her, especially not when she had that big, devouring family waiting to take up the slack.” He paused and reached out, sliding his finger around the curve of her ear. Even her ears were adorable to him, proving he was the worst sort of besotted fool. “Only it turned out she didn’t have that family anymore. She was an orphan, like me. And I realized there was no way I could let her go if it meant she would be on her own. Because, see, she’d been taking care of me since I was twelve, protecting my heart, trying to make it whole. I figure it was about time I returned the favor.”
She regarded him in unnatural silence, eyes shiny and big with unshed tears.
“Nothing to say?” he prodded, poking her shoulder. “Two weeks ago I couldn’t shut you up.”
“I have something to say all right,” she snapped, scowling, tears dissolving in a mist of outrage.
“Let’s hear it,” he prompted, bracing himself for her outburst.
She grasped his shirt with both hands and hauled him closer, until they were nose to nose. “Cutting it a mite close, weren’t you, Major?”
He grinned, cupping her face in both his hands. “You’re a difficult woman to track, Juniper. I had to call in multiple favors to the intelligence community, some I might never be able to repay. The President sends his best, by the way.”
Her lashes fluttered again. “Are you joking?”
He eased closer, lips brushing hers. “Classified.”
“Doesn’t matter, I don’t care anymore.” She drew in a shuddery little breath and erased the distance between them, crawling into his lap. “What does a high and mighty major do with his prisoners?”
“I don’t know because I’m not a major anymore,” he said. His fingers were skimming her neck. He’d like to think that was the cause in the three-second delay before she reacted.
Her body jolted. “What? What did you say?”
“I resigned my commission.”
She sat up away from him. “WHAT? Why would you do a fool thing like that?”
“For you. To prove to you I was serious and meant this thing were about to undertake.”
“I never wanted that, ever. Bear, you love the army. The army is your life.”
“Juni.” He gripped her waist and tugged her impossibly closer. “I love you. You are my life now.”
Her eyes softened and she pressed a palm to his cheek. “I appreciate that, more than you could know, but you have to get it back, you have to undo this. Let’s go make some calls.” She started to slide off his lap, but he anchored her in place.
“That won’t exactly be necessary,” he said.
“Why? Do you have a new job lined up?” she asked.
“In a manner of speaking. The army was…not inclined to accept my resignation. They offered me a new position.” He pressed his lips to her neck.
“What k-kind of position?” she asked, taking a shaky little breath that set his heart thrumming. Her hands gripped his shirt, and he congratulated himself that she seemed to need the support.
“An intelligence job, working under cover, pretending to be a diplomat, heading up a new intelligence sector.”
“Diplomat where?” She tipped her head and closed her eyes, allowing him easier access to her neck. Why had he ever thought for one minute he didn’t want this, didn’t want her? Now that he had such ready access to her, he could never be without it again, never be without her again.
“How would you feel about Africa?”
Her head snapped up. “You know exactly how I feel about Africa.”
He grinned. “Yes, in fact I do, which is why I requested it. They gave me my pick of locales, along with a promotion to Lieutenant Colonel.”
“Oh, Bear,” she murmured, eyes filling with tears again. “Am I going to get to come with you?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Of course we’ll have to get married. Army regulations.”
She sat up. “Now? Today? Because, I mean, I do have the dress. It seems more economical to get double use from it.”
He rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t wait two seconds for me to ask? Girl, ya vex me. Hold your horses.” He leaned around her, opened the glove compartment, and pulled out a small box. “I’m not good with the flowery language, so I’m going to skip all that and tell you we’re getting married. And you’re going to give me those babies you promised. Four of them.”
She gasped, covering her midsection protectively. “Four? That’s too many. Two.”
He shook his head. “No deal. Two’s too few. Three?”
She pretended to think it over. “I could manage three.”
“I doubt that. I have great confidence any children you and I produce will be wholly unmanageable. Also I demand boys.”
“I don’t think I can control that,” she said.
“No girls,” he warned, going stern again. “I can’t handle that much crazy making in multiples.”
She circled his neck with her arms. “I’ll try. No promises. Now kiss me.”
“Blast it, woman, can you let a man be a man and make the first move?”
“You’ve had twenty years to make the first move. Kiss me or I’ll bite you,” she said.
“I’m only giving in this once. Don’t get used to it,” he warned.
“No promises,” she repeated.
“Try again, Juniper. I want all the promises, every last one.”
“Which promises specifically?” she asked, suspicious now.
“Love, honor, cherish.”
“Not obey?” she asked.
“It’s my first time being in love, not my first day on planet earth. Of course not obey,” he said.
“Not to be difficult here, Bear.”
He made a choking sound of repressed incredulity.
“But we’re engaged, on our way to be married, and you still haven’t kissed me. It’s beginning to feel very Victorian all up in this car.”
“Juniper,” he said, shaking his head in exasperation.
“Is it that you don’t know how?”
“Juniper,” he said, tone changing to annoyance. “You did not just ask me that. Do you honestly think I’ve never kissed a woman before?”
“You’re the one who said you avoided women,” she pointed out, matching his annoyed tone with one of her own.
“I said I avoided relationships; I never said I was a monk.”
She narrowed her eyes, inspecting him anew. “How not a monk are you, Major Caruthers?”
“That’s Lieutenant Colonel now, if you please,” he said, amused by her possessive jealousy. He pressed his lips to one side of her neck, “And if you would give me.” He pressed his lips to the other side of her neck. “Five minutes of peace.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I would show you exactly how un-monastic my existence is about to be.” He brushed his lips on hers, feather soft, then pulled back to assess the damage. Her eyes were drowsy and heavy lidded, lips parted, cheeks flushed. “You look like you’ve been hitting the poppies a little too hard.”
“That’s it, I’ll poppy you,” she said and, threading her fingers through his hair, kissed him. And when it was over he had no memory of who made the first move, nor any desire to keep track of who made the next.
They might have remained in the car all day, kissing like love-drunk teenagers, if not for the fact that Juniper slid her hands under his shirt and felt the incision from his surgery. And when he told her he’d been shot the entire time they were together in the jungle, she was so incensed he took her to the chapel to save himself from her wrath.
Then, despite her protests, he carried her over the threshold of their hotel and deposited her gently on the bed.
“I’m still mad at you,” she told him. “For lots of reasons, all the reasons.”
“I’ll take it,” he replied.
“You’re supposed to be terrified, not smile gleefully,” she said.
“Can’t help it. You’re cute when you’re mad. Plus you’re latched on to me, not very ragey.” He tapped her arms, now laced tightly around his neck.
“I can be mad at you and never want to let you go at the same time.”
“That’s what I’m counting on for the rest of our lives,” he said.
“I’m never going to be bored again, am I?” she asked.
“I think we can safely rule it out as a possibility.” He lay down beside her with a sigh of contentment, feeling happier and fuller than he thought possible. He was tired, but his eyes didn’t want to close, didn’t want to stop looking at her, drinking her in. He wondered if she felt the same because her eyes were fastened on his, roaming his face as if trying to memorize it.
“Bear.”
“Mm.”
“What would you have done if you’d arrived too late, if I’d married Gabe?”
“Would never have happened,” he said.
“Are you so certain of your impeccable timing?” she asked.
“No, I’m so certain of your inability to marry him. I saw your face, Juni. You were getting ready to object.”
“Don’t be smug.”
“Can’t help it. I got the girl.” He tipped forward to kiss her.
“I feel pretty bad about it,” she said when the kiss was over.
“Don’t. It never would have worked with him. Want to know why?”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because you and me were meant to be. You are and have always been and will always be my girl.” His finger reached out and began to lightly trace her face.
“Big talk from a man who doesn’t believe in destiny.”
“I changed my mind. Rather, you changed my mind. You are my miracle, Juniper. From day one you took this broken, ruined boy and began to put him back together, one persistent, affectionate gesture at a time. And I reckon you’ll keep piecing me back together because I keep finding new ways to be broken.”
“I guess there’s only one thing to do about it,” she said.
“What’s that?” he asked, smiling preemptively at whatever her words would be.
“Better make it official real quick.”
“Oh, I’ll make it official,” he said, easing closer. “But it definitely won’t be quick.”
“Have mercy,” she murmured.
“No promises,” he said and kissed her.
S ome time later in the night he woke in a sweaty panic. He sat up, gasping for breath. Being a soldier was easier in the day than in the night. There were moments when he slept where he saw faces, heard sounds, sometimes even smelled smells that brought back things he’d rather forget. He hunched into a ball, pressing his forehead to his knees, eyes squeezed tightly shut to try and block the memories.
“John.” He jumped when Juniper said his name and laid her little hand on his back.
“I’m fine,” he lied. “Go back to sleep.”
She ignored him, as usual, and sat up, easing closer to snuggle against him. That snuggle did something to him, something good. His next breath came easier. He opened his eyes and made himself see her and nothing else, and what a sight she was—hair tousled, lips puffy, silken nighty askew. And then she poked him. “You owe me recompense.”
“For what, exactly?” He lay down. She snuggled into his embrace, head on his heart that still thrummed with unremembered dread.
“Waking me. And other things. All the things. I keep long accounts and am completely unforgiving.”
“And how am I to ever pay this debt?”
“Incrementally, in installments,” she said, easing up to kiss him. He kissed her in return, and then it circled back around, the panic. He froze and sucked a shaky breath, pressing his forehead to hers.
“What if I can’t actually do this, Juni?”
Instead of answering, she pressed him into the bed and rested her chin on his chest again, this time peering into his face. “Let me to tell you a story.” When he didn’t reply, she continued, now reaching forward to trace her finger gently around his face. The action was so soothing he closed his eyes, breathing deeply once again. “It’s years from now, after you’ve spied on everyone in Africa. We come back to the states with our three beautiful boys who are all amazing and well-educated, like their daddy.”
“And their mama,” he interjected. He couldn’t see her smile, but he could feel it.
“They can ride a horse, tie a rope, shoot a gun, quote Shakespeare, and cook.”
He quirked a brow at that.
“Don’t be misogynistic. Boys can cook,” she said, poking him.
“Fine, they’ll cook,” he agreed, sighing as her finger continued its perusal of his features. “They’ll still be hooligans.”
“Well-educated and proper hooligans,” she added, then smoothed her miffed tone and continued. “Anyway, once we return, you’ll start spying on people in the states. Maybe you’ll work in Washington.”
“Perish the thought,” he interjected, pressing his lips together when she poked him again.
“And then the best thing happens,” she said.
“What?” He could almost picture it, their future, with him happily married and a father. They could have a good life, an amazing life. He saw shadows of it all around as she talked.
“They have babies,” she whispered.
He opened his eyes and looked at her. “More babies?”
“Better than babies. Grand babies. You’ll be a Grampy.”
“Huh.” He hadn’t pictured that far in the future. In truth he had never allowed himself to picture beyond the next dangerous assignment. “Maybe I’ll be retired by then.”
“You will never retire, it would kill you,” she said. “No, someday you’ll be on all fours in your office, toting a grandbaby on your back, and the President will enter unannounced. You’ll try to pretend it’s undignified, but secretly you won’t care.”
He could picture that, too. It wasn’t so far fetched; he’d met three presidents already. “Huh.” His gaze landed on Juniper again and he reached for one of her curls, pushing it out of her eyes. “Juni.”
“What?”
“Maybe we could have a girl.” He could picture a girl like her, with those curls and that dimple and that irrepressible spirit, and it made his heart melt, more than a little. “Just one, though, because not even I am intrepid enough to handle more than that.”
“I’ll consider it, but, Bear.”
“Yes?”
She eased closer, now planting herself provocatively in front of his lips. “It takes two to tango, or so the saying goes.”
“My dance teacher told me I was aces at the tango,” he said, his breath now stilted and shallow for reasons that had nothing to do with a panic attack.
“Prove it,” she whispered.
“Never let it be said that I resisted a challenge,” he whispered and kissed her.
Later, when he woke again, calmly this time, he found Juniper cuddled in his embrace, nestled against him, her hair spilling over his arm. He lay still a few moments, staring at her with this sudden realization that nothing that came before mattered, not in any way. Not his career, not his heartache, not his knowledge or training. Only this. And from this moment on his real life began, and every moment after would be the one that counted. For her, for all that they would have together, he would make it count.
With that decided, and his heart and mind clear, he kissed the top of her head and fell asleep, deeply and restfully this time. And every night he was with her, he would continue to sleep the same—secure and at peace, regardless of his career or world events, or anything else. As long as he had Juniper by his side, his life felt whole and unbroken, and so did his heart.
T hank you for reading The Woman and The Warrior, book nine in the Spies Like Us series.