Chapter 9
Chapter 9
“ H ow are you?”
When the question was asked by your former team leader, a man who was working his ranks to the higher realms of the intelligence community, it had more significance than a casual, “What’s up?”
Cameron Ridge sat behind his massive wooden desk, squinting at Ribs in concern as he awaited his answer, reading between the lines as ever.
“I’m all kinds of things,” Ribs answered honestly.
“What’s winning?” Ridge asked.
“Anger. And fear.”
“The anger I get, but why the fear?” Ridge asked.
Ribs picked up a paperweight, started to toy with it, saw Ridge eyeing him in disapproval, and set it back down. Like The Colonel, Ridge had a low tolerance for fidgeting. “Jordan’s talking about moving away, closer to home.”
Ridge blinked at him. “Maybe that’s for the best.”
“What?” Ribs exclaimed. “Of course it’s not. She can’t go.”
“I meant maybe it’s what’s best for Jordan, not for you. Think about it from her point of view.”
Ribs stubbornly shook his head.
Ridge expelled a breath, annoyed or impatient, it was hard to tell. “Look, I am telling you as a dad, having family around is important. I never thought I would be happy to have Darren nearby, but he picks up the baby and watches him for two hours every Wednesday until Maggie gets off work. And Amelia is our backup whenever we’re stuck. You don’t realize how invaluable your family is until you become a parent. We literally couldn’t make it without them some days.”
“I could be her support,” Ribs insisted.
Ridge tipped his head at him. “When you’re in town, you mean, and not working twenty hours a day on a case.”
Ribs’s mouth opened to argue, but no sound came out. Instead he sat back, deflated. “She can’t go. She can’t. I cannot take losing her, too.”
“Does she know?”
“No.” Ribs gave a rueful chuckle and swiped his hand over his face. “I don’t think she’d realize if I hired a skywriter.”
“Women,” Ridge agreed, shaking his head. “I had to spell it out for Maggie. She had no idea.”
“What? Everyone knew,” Ribs said.
“Not Maggie. But back to you. Here’s what I’m saying, suppose you make it clear to Jordan, then what?”
“Then we live happily ever after?” Ribs said hopefully.
Ridge rolled his eyes. “What can you offer her that she doesn’t already have? She’s going to have Shimmer’s insurance, so she’s financially set. She’s used to being on her own and still would be. What, exactly, would you add to her life?”
“This isn’t exactly the encouraging pep talk I hoped for,” Ribs admitted.
“Then make it so. Fix what needs to be fixed, then get your girl.”
“Right,” Ribs nodded. “So we’re both clear, what needs to be fixed?”
Ridge took that breath he took whenever it was clear he was dealing with an idiot. He rested his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Losing Shimmer was a trauma. Losing him that way was worse. But before that, Jordan had been dealing with a lot, mostly his absenteeism. Single parenting has taken a toll. What would be different about you in that scenario?”
“Are you saying I should quit my job?” Ribs snorted.
Ridge spread his hands imploringly and shrugged.
Ribs sat up, now truly alarmed. “I can’t quit my job. I love my job.”
“Then I guess you need to choose. Because I am telling you as a friend to you both, as well as a husband and a father, that you cannot have both right now, not at this time, not with this woman. She’s way too fragile to take on another ex-SEAL turned spy.”
Ribs stared at his former commander, openmouthed and blinking. Never in all his life did he believe he would hear Cameron Ridge telling him to quit his high profile, hard-earned, espionage job for a woman.
“What would I even do?” he asked.
Ridge shrugged again. “That’s for you to figure out. Jones made it work.”
Ribs grimaced. They had all given Jones a hard time when he chose the soft life over continuing to do field work or remain in the navy. On the other hand, Jones had someone now. They were planning a future together, saving for their eventual retirement and children. He would be a fulltime, hands-on dad. For the first time in his life, Ribs began to envy that, to envy Jones . “Oh, geez,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Ridge smiled as if he could read his thoughts, which he probably could. “Let me tell you this: I dreaded leaving the field to take a supervisory roll, thought I would hate every bureaucratic moment of it. But it’s still challenging, still exciting. Maybe not in the same way, but I haven’t turned into the brain dead, atrophied zombie I feared. I’m still working hard, still fulfilled. I look forward to each day, maybe even a little more now because, statistically speaking, my chances of coming home alive are much higher.”
“I’ll keep an open mind,” Ribs promised. It was the best he could do. Right now he felt torn because the thought of leaving his beloved job felt as bad as the thought of losing Jordan. At this point there wasn’t a clear winner in his mind. But maybe if he had somewhere else to go, something else to do, a way to imagine a life outside the one he currently lived, maybe then he’d be able to let go and move on.
“One final word and I’ll drop it. As a boss, I am telling you this: if you die on the job, people will be sad, but I’ll have your replacement waiting in the wings and ready to go in five minutes. If you die as a husband and father, you’ll leave a hole forever.”
Ridge always had a way of making him think about things, deep things he would otherwise prefer not to ponder. Even though he was only a few years older, he had that type of wisdom Ribs thought could only be gained by life in the country or, in Ridge’s case, on a sprawling ranch in the middle of Texas. Ranch Wisdom , the guys used to call it, back in the day whenever Ridge turned philosophical. Back then, when action had been their bread and butter, it hadn’t happened so often. Now they all sort of depended on it. Despite the fact that they hadn’t been SEALs for half a decade, he would forever be their leader.
“Thanks,” he said sincerely.
“We’re all rooting for you. For both of you,” Ridge said.
“You’ve turned sentimental,” Ribs accused.
“Marry an amazing woman, have a beautiful baby, and see if it doesn’t happen to you, too,” Ridge said.
Ribs didn’t reply because, from where he was sitting, it sounded ideal.
T his time Jordan was ready. She was showered and wearing clothes, hard pants and not her usual yoga wear (despite the fact that she hadn’t done yoga since her twenties, she somehow had an entire wardrobe of yoga attire.) The house, while not immaculate, was at least tidy, and she had made supper. Meatloaf, Gaines’s favorite.
He was right on time as usual. Navy life wasn’t really conducive to people who couldn’t keep to a schedule. So much training over so many years had a way of beating the undisciplined portions out of a man. All of the guys were generally early for everything, except Jones who tended to be the most scattered. He rang the bell, which struck Jordan as odd. It was much too formal for their long acquaintance.
She opened the door and saw greenery.
“I bought you a plant,” he announced cheerfully, holding it aloft.
“Oh,” Jordan said, trying not to cringe. A plant would be one more thing that depended on her, one more thing to try and keep alive.
“It’s fake,” he added in a whispered aside.
She laughed and reached for it. “You do know me.”
“Yep,” he agreed, and then he leaned in. And kissed. Her cheek. Jordan froze like the proverbial deer, unaccustomed to the new ritual. Was this a thing they did now? Should she kiss his raspy, good smelling cheek in return? Thinking of his smell caused her to inhale deeply.
“Are you sick?” he asked, taking a step back as his eyes swept over her in concern.
“In the head, maybe,” she said. Get it together. You’ve smelled men before. Four weeks as a widow and you’ve become a walking hormone.
“Join the club,” he said, closing the door. She noted that he took a look around outside before he did so, a thing Jay had also done. It was as if they couldn’t stop being alert, looking for trouble, scanning for hotspots. Jordan had always liked it, enjoyed the feeling of safety and protection it provided. It highlighted a gnawing underlying feeling of insecurity since Jay’s passing. I will probably never have that again, she thought. Those random and depressing thoughts had been happening more often, as if now that the shock was wearing off the reality of grief began its dark descent. Jordan would probably never sleep next to a solid, reliable man again, never be held in his arms, soothed, kept safe from all life’s terrors. Even though Jay was gone a lot, she had taken his alpha-male status for granted, always knowing she was well protected in his presence. Being without that now left a gaping hole of low-level anxiety.
“You got awfully silent,” Gaines said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder.
“Sorry, I didn’t sleep great.”
“Nash?” he guessed.
“No, my imagination. I keep…” she broke off, embarrassed.
“Keep what?”
“I keep hearing things. House noises I never noticed before, which is completely ridiculous because we’ve lived here four years and I spend many of those nights here alone. But everything feels different now. Dumb, I know.”
“Hey, not dumb. Not dumb at all. You’re going through a monumental life shift right now. Lean into it, don’t back away and try to talk yourself out of it. It’s okay to feel…”
“All over the place and completely mixed up?” she volunteered.
“Yes,” he agreed. “You’re allowed to feel exactly how you feel, at any given moment. No apologies.” He clasped her hand and gave it a squeeze.
Jordan stood there, staring at him, a little bit dazed, unable to put a name to the newness. Their still-clasped hands swung idly between them. Gaines smiled. She smiled in return. The moment felt like it was about to stretch into something more, and then Charlotte barreled into him, wrapping her dog-laden arms around his legs while Nash squealed and tossed his cup from his high chair.
And we’re back, Jordan thought with a little bit of relief. Whatever was going on, she was certain it was completely one sided and due to her rattled, sleepless state. Gaines only saw her as a pal, his best friend’s girl, more like a sister than anything else. That was how it had always been between them, how it would always be. She was not nor never had been on his level, which was perfectly okay because they were friends. Friends-in-law, really. Their mutual love for Jay had been their deepest connection.
“Uncle Wibs,” Charlotte declared. Since the arrival of her stuffed dog, he had been her favorite person, which was an unmitigated relief because it offered a distraction from Jay’s absence. The kids were used to not seeing him—Charlotte still hadn’t asked where he was. But someday Jordan would have to explain in a way she could understand. She was dreading that day.
“Baby girl,” Gaines declared, picking up Charlotte and tossing her in the air before kissing both cheeks. Like most women in the direct glare of his focus, Charlotte squealed and blushed with delight. Even little girls seemed to understand and appreciate Gaines’s uncommon beauty and perfection. The man was an Adonis.
Once again Jordan realized she was staring at him, having thoughts, and made herself snap into focus. What on earth was wrong with her? She’d known him for more than a decade and never suffered more than a detached sort of recognition of his good looks, the same way she could appreciate Ethan and Ridge’s beauty. They were devilishly handsome men; such was life. Jordan had always been much more comfortable with everymen like Jay and Jones, attainable men who didn’t make you feel aware of every flaw within yourself. Even now she patted her hair, attempting to right all that had gone wrong since Amelia last laid hands on her.
“We’re having meatwoaf,” Charlotte told Gaines importantly. “Cause Mommy said it’s your favorite.”
“Did you know the first day I met your mom, she served me meatloaf?” Gaines said.
“I did?” Jordan asked, tossing him a smile. “How on earth do you remember what you ate, after all these years?”
“It was a momentous day,” he said.
Jordan pressed her lips together and turned toward the stove. What did that mean? He must have received some kind of award or commendation that day and I’ve forgotten, she assured herself, certain that meeting her and eating meatloaf hadn’t ranked high enough on his life events to be termed “momentous.”
“Hey, buddy,” Gaines said, pausing to bend over and kiss the top of Nash’s head. Jordan’s heart melted a little. What was it about tough guys and babies that did that? So strong, yet so tender and gentle. It was likely Gaines had personally killed a few people, and yet he stood in her kitchen, loving on her kids.
Jay had been the same for a while, but the disparity had started to wage war in his mind. He seemed unable to resolve the things he’d seen and done with who he wanted to be, began having terrible nightmares, lashing out at Jordan and even sometimes the kids. He hadn’t become violent with them, but there were times when his temper made him unrecognizable to her, she who believed she knew him so well.
“Can I help?” Gaines asked, coming alongside her and squeezing her shoulder again. She stared up at him with big eyes, taking a moment to disconnect from her memories. Would the same thing that happened to Jay someday happen to Gaines? Were all of them doomed by their difficult and burdensome jobs?
“Jordy,” Gaines prompted, smoothing his thumb along her neck.
“Do you ever worry about it?” she whispered, pausing to lick her dry lips. “Ending up like Jay?”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t, but Jay and I were different. His family dynamic was such that…” he glanced at Charlotte, not wanting to say too much. “He was more old school. My mom was pretty good about getting us to open up, making us connect, identify, and talk about our feelings. My dad was a hugger, a bawler, was tender and connected to his soft side. I guess I don’t really have much trouble telling people when I’m sinking, never really had that macho urge to try and heal myself. If I’m in trouble, you better believe I’m going to be the first in line to get help.”
She thought that was probably true, especially after hearing him urge Jay so many times over the years to get help. His thumb was still smoothing along her neck, and it felt so good. The lack of touch the last few weeks made the touch almost feel like sensory overload now. “Gaines,” Jordan whispered.
“Yes,” he whispered in return, staring at her lips when she licked them again. The baby ate her lip balm, and she desperately needed more. He was probably noting how dry and cracked her lips were, and she fought a cringe.
“Charlotte’s birthday is in a couple of weeks and we’re having a party. I hope you can make it.”
“Pwease,” Charlotte chimed in, giving his neck a crushing squeeze. “Pwease, Uncle Wibs.”
“I’ll try,” he said, hating that it was the best he could do. He had no idea where he’d be two days from now, let alone two weeks. “I’ll try,” he added again, this time to Jordan.
She smiled, but he thought it looked sad. Or maybe resigned. She more than anyone knew it would be useless to give a promise he might not be able to keep. Suddenly Ridge’s words of wisdom made sense because if anyone deserved someone to keep his word and be there, it was Jordan. The fact that he couldn’t provide that when she needed it most kind of killed him. But what could he do? What was the answer? He had no idea and a great sense of urgency to find it.