Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BARCELONA, SPAIN - PRESENT DAY
Harper’s hips gyrated ever so slowly in the smallest of circles as if she were dancing in her dream. Roman didn’t want to wake her, but she was cradled in his arms and currently rubbing her ass against his morning wood.
He’d woken up a short while ago, and this time, he hadn’t been confused as to where he was or why he was there.
Overall, he was just a little groggy from sleep.
His body still felt as though he’d gone twenty rounds in an MMA Octagon, and although he was lying on his good side, the bad hip felt like someone was trying to pull his leg apart from his groin.
At least his mind no longer felt banged up. He may have dreamt about making love with Harper while he slept, but he was fully aware of why she was in his bed now. And it wasn’t to have sex.
The second he’d come face-to-face with one of Carmen’s bodyguards fleeing the scene of Mauricio’s murder, every one of his memories had slammed back into his head as if someone had clobbered him with an entire set of Encyclopedia Britannica—the Roman edition.
The good and the bad came rushing in to fill all the lingering blank spots. His mind was once again at capacity, and hell, he almost missed those gaps in memory. Not having his past smother his present had been somewhat of a relief.
Not all of his memories were unwelcome, though. Harper was someone he never wanted to forget.
Not prepared to lose hold of her just yet, Roman kept his hand resting on her hip where he’d set it before they’d fallen asleep.
He wasn’t ready to come to terms with the fact his two worlds were quickly converging, either.
Case in point, they were in a Riviera hotel, not to mention having encountered Carmen’s bodyguard during last night’s op.
His initial fears about operating in Spain, specifically Barcelona, were materializing.
And this amazing woman in his arms really needed to stop swaying her hips in her sleep. He couldn’t handle the temptation.
Harper stilled a moment later, and he sucked in a breath at her pause. Was she awake?
“I remember.” Her voice was soft, almost frail. “Everything.” She slowly turned to face him, and he dropped his hand from her body.
A soft blush crawled up her cheeks. “It’s like a veil has been lifted.
I needed sleep, I guess. Weird how being shot multiple times in Monaco a few years ago didn’t affect my memory, but a bump on a street curb had me out of sorts.
” She winced as if angry for bringing up that incident and closed her eyes.
“But I think all of my memories are back. Maybe they’ll stick around this time. ”
All of them? Was it too much to hope she’d forgotten at least one? She’d followed him at zero four hundred hours the morning of the car bomb incident, which meant she’d seen what he’d done, what he had no choice but to do. A memory he’d prefer to have permanently deleted.
“It feels like someone hit the reset button in my head.” Her black lashes parted to reveal her sobering brown eyes.
That kind of honest and heartfelt look was why men sometimes did crazy and stupid things. So terrified they’d lose what was right in front of them that they often made bad fucking choices. Pushing those they cared about away. I have no other choice, though, he reminded himself.
“I wish I could get a fresh start, too.” Her lips rolled inward as if with regret. “I’m sorry if I distracted you and—”
“You’re not the reason he got away. That’s on me. I was off my game.” Roman had to figure out why Carmen’s bodyguard killed Mauricio. Unless the guard also arrived after Mauricio had been killed and got spooked when Echo Team showed up.
But why would he have been there in the first place, and how had he found Mauricio before Harper did?
“Might I remind you that you were only off your game because you’d recently jumped in front of a car for me?” She glowered, and on her, it only made her look cute. “We had a deal, remember? No saving me before someone else? And that someone else includes you, by the way.”
“First of all, that deal was while we were still—” What word would he use? He had so many words in his head at all times, yet around her, he could never seem to find the right ones. “The terms of our deal expired. Second of all, anyone on Echo would have done the same thing, and you know that.”
This frown was much more painful to look at. It was tangled up with true sadness. He’d move heaven and earth to be with her, but he’d been forced to make a deal with a devil, one that meant he had to stay the hell away from her.
“Fair points,” she whispered.
She started to shift farther away, but he reached out and stopped her. His palm went to her curvaceous ass in her skinny jeans, and her mouth rounded as if torn whether to be surprised or move closer.
What she should do was hit him, and he should smack his own damn self since he had no business touching her.
“What are you doing?” she finally asked since he hadn’t moved his hand off her ass.
“I have no clue.” And he couldn’t blame getting hit by a car this time. This was all him.
Her eyes lowered to his bare chest as she lifted a hand between them and unexpectedly ran a palm over his wall of muscles.
“You’re only wearing briefs.” Her voice was throaty but feminine and reminded him of those silver screen actresses like Lauren Bacall.
His gaze locked on to her mouth, and when she slowly wet her pink lips, the sultry level in the room shot through the roof.
Why was he playing with fire? Why did they always do this, cross the line no matter how hard they tried to stay in their own lane? It was why he’d been afraid to go to her apartment last week for Valentine’s Day to watch a movie. He wanted to spend time with her, but he didn’t trust himself.
They were never meant to be just friends. They were meant for more. But more is impossible, he added the reminder because his brain kept refusing to recognize reality.
Harper rotated her hips a little, adjusting herself in just the right spot to feel his rock-hard length. Her hand wrapped over his shoulder as she arched into him.
If only they really could start over without the past and his current problems trying to shackle them to a stack of cinder blocks at the bottom of Lake George.
Lake George. One of his happier memories.
He’d stolen Harper away to a cabin one weekend by that lake a week after Wyatt and Natasha married last July.
It was the only time Roman had ever felt truly safe from being interrupted by a knock on the door by Harper’s brother or a random visit by Finn or one of the guys at his place.
They’d spent most of the weekend naked. In bed.
By the fire. On a blanket by the lake at the base of the Adirondack Mountains.
What could’ve been better than Harper in his arms, moonlight glimmering on the water, and crickets performing a symphony just for them?
“Where are you?” she whispered, knowing him well enough to notice he’d let his thoughts slip from the present. A pre-concussion issue of his, too.
“I’m by the lake.” His throat tightened. “Our lake.”
“Can I be there with you?” she tenderly asked.
“You’re always with me.” Emotion had his voice hoarse.
And you always will be, even when I have to be away from you.
Even when you’re married with kids and living a new life.
He squeezed his eyes closed, the pain from that idea unbearable.
He wanted her happy, but he wanted to be the one to share in that happiness.
Maybe they could find a way to be together if he brought in the teams to help.
But that would mean revealing his secret life and what he was up against . . . no, this is my problem. He couldn’t put targets on anyone’s back, there was already a bulls-eye on his, and it wouldn’t be right for people he cared about to share the burden.
He opened his eyes at the feel of her fingers threading through his hair, pushing the locks to the side and off his forehead.
“Did we make a mistake?” The pained expression on her face when she spoke nearly distracted him from the fact Harper clearly didn’t remember everything. If she recalled what she’d seen him do the other night, she would have led with that. And she wouldn’t need to ask if they’d made a mistake.
She started to pull her hand back, but he caught her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth, then brushed his lips over the knuckles.
That was wrong to do.
And his hand on her ass was also a shit idea.
But put them in a closed space, and they struggled to keep their hands to themselves. Bull and the waving flag and all.
“I miss you, well, us, even more now that I had to relive all of our memories together as if they’re new,” she confessed in a whispered tone before he’d had a chance to answer her.
He stopped himself from setting another kiss to her closed hand, searching her gaze instead. He needed to tell her the truth at some point.
And he was most likely on the verge of having no choice soon. But how did he start that conversation? Hey, I’ve been living another life. Lying to you. To the team. Even if you forgive me, I can’t change what has to happen.
Roman released her wrist, and when she cushioned her forearm tight to her chest, he took that as his cue to remove his hand from her ass.
When he tipped his head to the side, he caught sight of the clock on the table behind her, and he cursed. “Nine?” He balked. “They let us sleep in until nine.” What in the hell were the guys thinking? “Maybe we can talk later?”
She pulled her head back in surprise. “You’re actually going to talk?”
He gulped. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ever wanted,” she said, her voice delicate.
“And you?” Will you finish telling me what you were on the verge of sharing in the car? Your secret?
Her lips parted, but the knock at the door silenced whatever she planned to say.
“You decent?” Finn asked through the door.