Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Natasha couldn’t let him storm out like that. His heart appeared to be breaking with every passing second, and it was clear he was angry and upset with himself.
“Wait,” she croaked out as she approached him in the hall, the word barely audible. “Please, stop.” More punch to her tone this time to get him to hear her.
Wyatt stood outside the elevator doors, head bowed, palms on his hips. “I’m okay. You don’t need to try and—”
“But I do.”
He’d saved her from feeling lonely at Dale’s wedding.
He’d swooped in to rescue her in Algeria.
He literally walked through fire trying to get The Knight out alive for her in Romania.
And surely there were dozens of other instances (probably many more) that she didn’t know about, where he acted selflessly to help others. So yeah, she did need to do this, because she refused to let this man beat himself up.
Standing a foot away from him, she turned to the side and pointed to her room, knowing they couldn’t have this conversation out in the hallway. “Get back in there right now. I won’t take no for an answer.”
He grumbled something too low to hear but followed her command. Once they were inside the room with the door shut, he whirled to face her, a silent plea in his eyes to let him be. Not going to happen.
Wyatt pinned her in place with a glare, his irises a shocking mix of blue and titanium that robbed her speech and had her heart racing.
Her breath froze in her lungs as silence hung in the air and filled the space, creating an almost visible pressure between them.
“I’m not cut out to be a dad. And she’s twenty. She had one already. She doesn’t need me filling Arthur’s shoes.”
“That’s a load of crap, and you know it. And men like you don’t just give up and walk away when things get tough.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I’m not as strong as you think.” If defeat were an overflowing river, it’d sweep them both away.
She absorbed some of his pain, and her tone was shaky when she whispered, “That’s not true.” With a palm to the planes of his chest, the muscles hard beneath her touch, she dared a step closer. “We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you didn’t feel a sense of responsibility toward her.”
“You think she wants a dad who only sticks around out of honor or a sense of duty?” he challenged.
“You’re just scared. You put your life in danger all of the time to save strangers.
You do it without any thanks afterward. But knowing Gwen is your blood makes it personal.
It changes things. She’s no longer a stranger, and if something happened .
. .” She drew in a shaky breath and released it.
“Walking away from this case and from a child you haven’t even had a chance to meet won’t change the fact she’s your daughter.
It won’t make whatever hurt or anger or frustration you’re feeling inside go away. ”
“Your shrink teach you that?” He was intentionally hitting her with a verbal left jab, hoping to leave a sting, but it wouldn’t work. She was stronger than that.
And she understood his need to fight back. To keep his guard up. She’d done the same when she was ordered to go to therapy. She hadn’t wanted counseling then, only revenge.
“When my brother almost died, I never regretted being his sister even though the anguish caused me pain. When The Knight had most of my team murdered, I never regretted my relationship with them or for crying over their loss.” Her eyes burned with tears as she relived the tragedies.
“Don’t you get that? She’ll still be your daughter.
You can’t change that by pretending she doesn’t exist.”
“I spent twenty years unaware I had a child.” His breathing picked up, and his gaze intensified. With every heave of his chest, she witnessed him struggling with his own personal demons. Sometimes the hardest battle to fight was against yourself, and she knew that all too well.
Wyatt wasn’t just scared about losing Gwen, he was angry he’d already lost twenty years of her life.
“Maybe her mum was right to keep her from me.” More anger directed at himself.
“You don’t mean that,” she said, keeping her voice soft.
His jaw tightened. “You were right to never reach out to me. To not—”
“No, I was just scared, like you are now.” She fought the tremble in her tone the best she could.
“I was afraid of falling for you. I wasn’t worried you’d leave me at the altar like Dale, but that you’d .
. .” Her throat grew thick, the words trapped inside.
The truth was unsettling. A truth she hadn’t yet faced.
He leaned in. “Say it.” His words were hot and fanned across her face. “You were worried I’d die.”
“No,” she rushed. “Dale was a Marine, but I was still going to marry him.”
“I bet you didn’t really love him. And that was before the Agency, before you discovered how screwed up the world can be.” His hands slipped from the wall as if realizing the implication of his words, at the suggestion there could be love between them in the future.
“Don’t turn your back on Gwen.” She had to focus on why they were having this conversation to begin with. “She needs you.”
“And how would you know?” He drew his hands to his hips.
“Because at thirty-five, I still need my dad, even if I’ll never admit it to him.”
“Yeah, well, she had a father, and he died way too damn young.” He walked to the window and brought a palm outside the frame, even though his view was obstructed by black curtains. “My men will keep her safe, but I shouldn’t stay here. What if my actions get her killed?”
“You’re a hero and—”
“I’m not. I’m just a guy doing his job.”
She walked up to him and brought her hand to his back. “Fathers are often heroes in their children’s eyes. Military or not.”
“My dad was no hero,” he bit out, catching her eyes from over his shoulder.
“But you are.” And there was no doubt in her mind. “Maybe you and I don’t know each other that well, but I respect you. And whether you want me to or not, I care about you. Please don’t write off what I’m saying.”
He slowly turned, his eyes softer now as he peered at her. “Tash.”
His nickname took her back to their conversation in Colorado. “So, it’s ‘Tash’ again?”
“After everything we just talked about, and you putting me in my place while wearing those polka-dotted PJs, yeah, you’re Tash to me.
” Thankfully, his tone was laced with a lot less anger now.
“I need to tell the team and see what they say, and I’ll let them make the call as to whether they want me here or not. ”
“Okay,” she agreed. “But since we’re now working together, you know my vote.”
The back of his hand caressed her cheek before his thumb skirted along her parted lips.
“Which version of you did I get just now? CIA Natasha or . . .?” He stuffed both hands into his pockets.
She shrugged. “I think you got all of me.”
A small smile of surrender met his lips. “Just the way I like you.”