Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“How many of these places do you have scattered all over the world?” Jared asked when Liam returned from putting Elaina to bed.
Jared did a three-sixty inside their black site location in Loughton, a town in the district of Essex about twenty kilometers northeast of the hotel and convention center in London where The Golden Minds Gala was being held tomorrow night.
It was an old twelve-bedroom bed-and-breakfast that closed down over a decade ago. The team had bought it, fixed it up, and converted the main living space into a command room with a safe off to the side to house their arsenal of weapons.
“Let’s just say we’ve got our bases covered,” Asher said.
“Sure you’re just civilian contractors?” Jared grabbed his duffel bag.
“Well-paid ones,” Wyatt answered with a wink.
Jared had asked the same question en route from the base to the B&B when Harper filled everyone in on what she’d discovered about the shipment from Carballo and their mystery man Connor Grady. Guess he wasn’t done questioning them, yet.
Liam had a feeling working with Jared was going to end badly. Or worse, maybe the president would suggest Jared join their team. And that’d be a hard no from Liam.
“We use this place a lot,” Asher said, “so the bedrooms should be good enough to sleep in. Pick any on the third floor,” he directed his comment to Jared. “Everyone else, get some rack time. Sun is up in two, but I’m feeling generous—take four hours.”
A couple of the guys rolled their eyes and muttered curses under their breaths.
“Oh, come on, you slept on the plane.” Asher waved them off. “I’m about to drop the four hours back to two.”
“Not all of us have the pleasure of getting shagged while on ops to cheer us up,” Wyatt shot back.
“Screw you,” Jessica said with a laugh.
“Pretty sure the big guy would murder me if I did.” Wyatt kissed the air Asher’s way.
“It’s a bit early—or maybe late—for this, isn’t it?” Emily flashed a smile at Jessica.
“These guys are nonstop. You’ll get used to it.” Jessica spoke as if Emily would always be around. And it killed him to know she wouldn’t be. That she couldn’t be.
“What’s Luke’s ETA?” he asked Jessica once the room cleared out save for a few of them.
“He’ll be arriving tomorrow morning,” she replied. “He just brought Eva back to New York.”
Back to his daughter. Sometimes it was hard for Liam to believe Luke had a baby girl.
“You ready for bed?” he asked Emily. “You can sleep in the room connecting to Elaina’s if you’d like to.”
He grabbed her bag in one hand and his duffel in the other and moved down the hall and to the back set of stairs, each old, creaky wooden step moaning.
“I’ll stay in the room across the hall.” He stepped inside her room and flicked on the light. “New sheets are in the closet. The ones on the bed have probably collected dust.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.” A brief smile crossed her face.
He dropped her bag on the chair off to the side of her bed and came up before her. “You can obviously sleep for more than four hours, you know.”
“I rested on the plane.”
“With Elaina,” he added, going back to the visual in his head.
“True. I don’t think either of us slept all that well given we were basically swaddled in a big net.”
He chuckled, but when she didn’t say more, he found himself simply staring at her full lips, envisioning what he wanted to do. What he wished he could do.
A soft brush of their lips.
A gentle flick of their tongues.
Then lose total control and claim her mouth completely.
“You okay?”
“Of course,” he answered, but a hint of desire probably rattled loose in his tone when he’d spoken. “Are you?”
“I’m trying to be.” She blinked a few times, her nerves showing.
“This life is—”
“Meaningful,” she cut him off.
That word pinged around in his head, playing on repeat, masking the sound of Elaina padding into the room.
She’d changed into a long-sleeved unicorn top with matching pink pajama bottoms before they’d left the base. Her PJs served as a reminder of how young she was—even if she acted way beyond her years.
“I had a bad dream.”
Emily crossed the bedroom to get to her and wrapped a hand over her wrist. “Sorry, sweetie. Can we get you something?”
“I’m kind of hungry.”
Liam glanced at his bag. “I have something.” He motioned for Elaina to have a seat on the bed, and Emily sat next to her, wrapping an arm around Elaina’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world to do.
He lowered to the floor, unzipped his bag, and grabbed Oreos. He stood and faced them. “I picked them up at the store when we filled up for gas on our way here.” He peeled the top flap down to expose the rows of cookies and saw Elaina’s face light up. “I don’t have milk, though.”
“That’s okay.” Elaina waved a dismissive hand. “The cookies are perfect.”
He sat on the other side of Elaina on the queen-sized bed, the color of the bedspread matching her PJs. “If you twist the Oreo just right you have a fifty-fifty chance of guessing which side of the cookie the cream will end up on.” He handed out the cookies.
“Actually, I’m ninety-two percent accurate in my guesses. Only eight out of every hundred times I’ve been incorrect.” Elaina stared at the cookie. “Top side,” she said and twisted the two halves.
Emily clapped her hands together. “You’re right.”
The kid was a genius. An adorable genius.
“Mm. Good.” Elaina finished chewing then licked a crumb from her lip and focused on Liam’s arms. Or more so on his inked right arm. “I like the artwork. Do you have more pictures I can’t see?”
“Yup.” He shoved up his pant leg to show a trident on the back of his calf muscle, then stood and shifted the material of his black tee to expose the skeleton frog tatt on his back shoulder. “I sketched this frog when I was about your age,” he said when sitting back down.
“Navy SEAL, right?” Elaina asked.
He nodded. “I knew at a young age what I wanted to be when I grew up. What about you? Do you know?”
“Maybe an astronaut. But if I can I’d like to help people. Maybe be a world leader. We’ll see.” She shrugged.
Liam blinked a few times and caught Emily’s eyes from over Elaina’s head, seeing she shared the same surprised look. “I bet you’ll do that someday. No doubt in my mind.”
“Thanks.” She grabbed another cookie from the package on his lap. “Are the pictures on your arm special?”
He skimmed a hand over the different images there. “I used to get a new tattoo every time I came home from being deployed.”
“Because you survived?” she asked, her voice so full of innocence, and yet, she somehow understood the world. The problems with it.
For the people who didn’t survive, but he didn’t want to say that. “Sort of.”
“I like the lion. It’s bright and colorful. Very fierce.” She put a hand in the air like a claw and growled, which had both Emily and Liam chuckling.
“I want to be strong like you and Emily when I grow up.”
His heart nearly pressed against his breastbone as it pumped harder. “You already are, sweetie.”
“And what do you do, Emily?”
“Lawyer.” Emily crinkled her nose. “Not nearly as exciting.”
“So, he catches the bad guys, and you make sure they stay behind bars.” She looked left and right, back and forth between the two of them. “You make a great team.”
“We don’t normally work together,” Emily admitted in a soft voice. “You brought us together actually.”
“Oh. Well, will you two get married?”
How could he say that they already were, but it’d been an accident?
“That’s okay. You don’t need to answer. I know what you’re thinking.” Elaina stood. “I should go to sleep now. Can you take me? You sing better than Liam.” She glanced at him. “No offense.”
He held a palm in the air and grinned. “None taken.”
Once the door was closed, he set the cookies on the nightstand, grabbed his bag, and went to his room and into the en suite to change and wash up.
After splashing water on his face and toweling his skin dry, he caught sight of Emily in the vanity mirror standing behind him.
“That was quick.”
“She’s burnt out.” She leaned against the doorframe, her arms resting casually at her sides. “We have to talk to her about her dad, but I have no clue how to begin that conversation.”
“I’m not looking forward to it.” He tossed the towel and faced her. Her eyes moved over his inked arm like she was inventorying the designs.
“The tattoos,” she whispered. “They represent people you lost, don’t they?”
All he could do was nod. It wasn’t something he talked about. Barely even with his brothers on the teams.
“That black rubber band you’re wearing, I’ve seen Owen wear it before. Asher, too. But never at the same time.”
He glanced at his wrist. “I’m not sure if you know, but we lost a guy from our team.
” He smoothed a finger over the inch-wide band.
“Asher replaced Marcus on Bravo. Marcus always wore this, and when he died—well, his wife thought the bracelet should stay with the team. And now we rotate wearing it as a way to keep him with us on ops.” His throat tightened.
“He’d been the only guy on the team in a relationship before Luke began the domino effect of our brothers falling in love. ”
“I, uh, didn’t know,” she answered softly.
“The lion,” he began, his own voice catching him by surprise, “I got that tatt after we lost him. Everyone always said he had the heart of a lion.”
Her mouth tightened as if she were battling with what to say.
She crossed the space between them and reached for him. Her fingers gently wrapped around his wrist, her bottom lip quivered ever so slightly, and he knew she could feel the climb of his pulse as she held on to him.
Her eyes became the color of rich, glossy mahogany as liquid pooled. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose someone you love.” A tear escaped and slid down her cheek.
His shoulders sloped. His heart squeezed. An almost shaky breath followed. “I hope you never have to know.” With his free hand, he brushed the pad of his thumb over a teardrop.
“Liam, I realized something,” she said softly, sniffling back her tears. “I’ve been lying. I thought I was being honest with you, but I haven’t been. And I’ve been lying to myself, too.”
Liam went still, his shallow breaths mirroring Emily’s, her obvious case of nerves showcased in the clench of her jaw. “What do you mean?”
“I told you I could do casual because in the two years since my ex I’ve never opened up to a guy. Never felt the need or desire to have anything more than casual.”
And God, he didn’t want to imagine her with any guy, not even the ones who came before him. But it didn’t change the fact he felt like he was getting kicked in the nuts right now.
“I’ve always been attracted to you, and I hoped it’d go away. I think I subconsciously let Vegas happen—well, the sex part—because I thought it’d help me get you out of my head.”
She let go of him, and he resisted the urge to tightly cross his arms to try and get through what she was saying.
“Instead of getting you out of my system, though, I want you with me now more than ever.” She brought a hand beneath her nose and held it there as if somehow, she could prevent the tears that brimmed in her eyes.
“Deep inside I knew that for me, it could never just be sex between us, and so I lied. I’m so sorry. ”
He had no idea what to say at this moment.
Admit that he’d fallen for her long before their accidental I do, only to break her heart when they’d have to split tomorrow? Or the day after?
He had to sever whatever this was between them sooner than he’d hoped, but God, it gutted him to think about it, let alone actually say or do it.
He covered his eyes with one palm, trying to summon the courage.
He could breach a compound with an unknown number of enemy combatants, take down terrorists, and jump from a plane, all in the same night—but a relationship with Emily and the chance of breaking her heart . . . no. He couldn’t take the risk.
Fear. The fucking four letters that could be both the giver and taker of life.
Fear of failure kept his people moving forward. Pushing to be the best. It motivated them on their darkest day and even on the brink of their brightest hour.
But his fear of hurting her was going to ultimately rob Emily from him—take away the only woman who’d ever made him want more in life than just the teams.
His lungs filled with air, an almost sharp stabbing pain hit his chest until he let the breath go. “I can’t be with you,” was all he could get out, all he could manage, but it was enough to have her stepping back.
“Is this about what I admitted to you back in Chile?” That slip of insecurity thanks to her ex touched her words, and it slayed him.
“What? God, no.” The tension in the back of his neck and shoulders intensified. “You’d be more than enough for me,” he said, in as steady a voice as possible.
“Then—”
“But it can’t work for us.” He roped a hand around the nape of his neck and squeezed, willing the pain to go away. Wishing it could truly fade with time. “I’m sorry,” he said and brushed past her. “I’m so damn sorry.”