Chapter 24
“ W hen you join the agency, you’re afforded a certain level of protection and anonymity. For all intents and purposes, you don’t really exist anymore. No one can Google you and find you on the web. You already know you’re not permitted to have social media, but you probably don’t realize the extent we go to in order to cover all traces of your life. There is no way, for instance, to find your address. Unless you work for the agency.”
“You’re saying the only way Sam’s uncles were able to find me that night was because someone gave them my address,” she said.
“That’s what I’m saying,” he said.
“What if they followed us home?”
He tilted his head at her, annoyed. “Maggie, it’s not my first go round on this thing called espionage. We weren’t followed.”
“Don’t get snappy. It is my first go round on this thing called espionage, and I don’t know how it works. How was I to know you were keeping an eye out for a tail? I wasn’t.”
“I’m always keeping an eye out for a tail. It’s written into my DNA now,” he said, scooping another heaping helping of green beans. “The food is delicious, by the way. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said absently. “Cam, it’s no one on our team.”
“It could be,” he said.
“It’s not,” she assured him.
“How do you know? ”
“Because I know,” she insisted.
“Sweetheart, blind loyalty is nice, but it’s not the kind of thing you can afford in this game. It could get you killed.”
“It’s not blind. I know the members of our team. None of them would ever, ever sell me out.”
“Not for a million dollars?”
She blinked. “You think that’s how much they paid?”
He shrugged. “No idea. Maybe it wasn’t money. Maybe it was a threat to someone’s child or mother or spouse. Would anyone choose you over their three year old daughter? My point is you have no idea what made someone turn and, without that knowledge, you can’t possibly know who it was.”
She shook her head. “Not on our team, not possible. I refuse to believe it.”
“I hope it’s not from our team, but I don’t have the luxury of ruling out suspects without evidence to the contrary,” he said.
“Of course you do. It’s your team. Stand up for them and say no one would do that,” she said.
“I did, to the Colonel. But between you and me I’m admitting I’m not sure and I can’t be sure until the mole is found. That’s why I couldn’t use any of them to come get you.”
“Who were those guys?” she asked.
“Former SEAL team members,” he said.
“Who is Ethan?”
He scowled. “A player.”
“Easy there, Papa. I was asking out of curiosity, not because I want to have his babies.”
“Good because he’s not ready to settle down,” Ridge said .
“Is that part of the SEAL training? Do they make you swear to be loyal to the country and emotionally unavailable to women?” she asked.
“I am not emotionally unavailable to women. Hello, I’m talking to a woman right now,” he said.
“And if I were to say, ‘Cam, I think we need to move our relationship to the next level,’ how would you respond? Because I think you would leave a Ridge-shaped hole through that wall in your mad dash to escape my clutches,” she said.
“Is that what you’re saying?” he asked. “Because the way you’ve been looking at me since I stepped into this kitchen makes me wonder.”
“I think if you review our history, you’ll see I’m not the one who has ever stepped a toe over the line. In fact, I’m the one who reels us back when it happens,” she said.
“What an interesting way of not answering my question,” he said.
“What do you want me to say? That I find you attractive? You know I do. You’re well aware of how you look,” she said.
“Here’s what’s puzzling me: I’ve looked this way since you’ve known me, and for the last year you’ve studied me like I’m an interesting wallpaper in your grandmother’s living room. And then tonight I step into the room and you’re looking at me like you want to be the butter to my toast. That food analogy was for you, so you’d get what I’m saying.”
They stared at each other over the small table. Maggie wished she were back in the gray dress with full makeup and jewelry. Instead she had scrounged whatever makeup she had in her purse and thrown her long, wet hair into a loose braid. Her ensemble looked like someone put a lumberjack in a shrinking machine, and now of all times he was asking her to declare herself, when she felt dowdy, insecure, and off-kilter .
“No words, chatty Cathy?” he taunted.
“Why do I have to be the one to talk?” she demanded at last. “You’re possessive and jealous and sometimes you look at me like I’m the quarterback and you’re the defensive end who desperately wants to go in for the sack. That’s a sports analogy for you, so you’ll get what I’m saying.”
He blew out a breath. “You are the closest person in the world to me. The friendship we have is better than anything I’ve ever had with anyone else, and I’m including my entire dating history in there. I don’t want to mess it up.”
“Ditto.” She thought that was the end of it, but he continued.
“So I think you should tread carefully.”
Her eyes flew from the bean on the tip of her fork back to his face. “You think I should tread carefully? What about you?”
“Maggie, come on,” he said, laughing a little.
She set down the fork. “What are you saying here? That you think I can’t keep my hands off you?”
“Between us, who is more disciplined in every area of life?” he asked.
Her jaw dropped. “Are you aware of the words coming out of your mouth right now?”
“Settle down, I’m not trying to offend you. This is me being honest.”
“First, never tell me to settle down. Ever. Second, you may be trying not to offend me, but you’re failing heartily. Third, this is not you being honest. This is you being a self-righteous jerk.”
Now it was his turn for shock. “You’re calling me a jerk? You’ve never called me a jerk.”
“You’ve never been a jerk before, at least not to me. Here’s a word of warning for you: I’m like the Hulk. I may appear mild mannered and cheerful, but you do not want to see me angry.”
He laughed again, another mistake. “You’re being ridiculous. All I’m saying is now is not the time to try and flip our relationship into something else.”
“It’s times like these I wish I were a man so I could punch you in the face and have done with it,” she said.
“Maggie,” he exclaimed, shocked again. He had never seen her like this, and he didn’t get it. “What is your problem?”
“What is my problem? What is my problem? I’ll tell you my problem. A man I was with for four years walked back into my life after a six-year absence, a man I thought I was going to marry. Now he’s saying if we survive our current ordeal, he wants to get back together. And, in the middle of that, my best friend, the man I count on for everything, is telling me he thinks I can’t keep my hands off him, that I’m such a pathetic loser I need a lecture about how it’s ‘not the right time for us’ when, spoiler alert, I never said it was. Why do you have the delusion I’m so hot for your body, Cameron Ridge, when I have never once done anything to make you think that? Have I kissed you? Crawled naked into your bed? Begged you to touch me? No, never, not once. And yet you persist in treating me like a charity case who should be thankful for any scrap of your affection.”
“Maggie…”
“Not done,” she yelled, standing. Then, “Okay, I actually am out of words. Never mind.”
“What exactly did Din Chatti say to you when you were in that cell?” he demanded.
“His name is Sam, and it’s really none of your concern,” she said.
“Do I need to remind you he’s a terrorist and I’m your boss?” he said .
“He’s an American citizen who is innocent until proven guilty. And as far as needing to know what went down, let me assure you we were not discussing national security, Mr. Ridge .”
“Are you still in love with him?” he demanded.
“Why do you care?”
“What do you mean why do I care? You’re my friend, and he’s a terrorist,” he said, and now he was angry. “You are toeing the line dangerously close to insubordination.”
“How’s this for insubordination? I quit,” she yelled, smacking her palm on the table.
“You can’t quit. We’re in the middle of an assignment. It doesn’t work like that.”
“Then I quit when this is over. You can’t tell me what to do with my personal life,” she said.
“I can when your personal life involves a terrorist,” he yelled. He was standing now, too. Usually he towered over her, but today somehow they seemed to be the same height, as if anger had given her another foot of leverage.
“Stop saying that. He’s not a terrorist. He’s a good man who got mixed up in something he couldn’t control.”
“You don’t know what was in his control,” he yelled.
“Neither do you.”
“Do you still love him?” he demanded.
“I don’t know,” she hurled. He blinked at her, his anger morphing to hurt. “Cam…” she reached out a hand, but he backed away.
“Forget it. I’m doing a perimeter sweep.” He turned and stalked outside, leaving Maggie to clean up the kitchen. She did so in short order and then had nothing left to do. There was no television, no internet, nothing to fill the long, empty hours ahead. She searched the drawers and came up with one paperback, an old spy thriller, probably someone’s idea of a joke .
Ridge was outside for more than an hour. When he came back inside, neither of them spoke. He sat on the opposite end of the couch, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared at the wall. Maggie tried to make headway in the paperback, but she couldn’t focus. They had never fought before, and certainly not said such awful things to each other and yelled and stormed away. She wanted to make amends, but she was still seething with anger. It was an odd feeling, to yearn for him and want to kick his teeth in at the same time.
“What’s that?” he asked after an hour of silence, startling her so she jumped.
“What?” she asked, confused.
“In your hand. What is that?”
“A piece of chocolate I found in the drawer,” she said.
“Is there more?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then you have to share it,” he said.
“Why? You don’t like chocolate,” she said.
“I like chocolate when it’s the only dessert available,” he said.
“You never even ate dessert before I started making you,” she argued.
“And now I do. I love dessert, it’s my favorite. Give me the chocolate.”
“No. Finders, keepers.”
“Are you really so selfish that you’re going to hog all the chocolate for yourself?” he asked.
“What do you think?” she asked as she purposefully unwrapped the candy, making the wrapper crinkle as much as possible.
“Give me the chocolate,” he demanded, extending his hand .
She shook her head and rushed to open the candy and jam it in her mouth. Before she could do so, he dove for her. She was ready for him. She sprang off the couch and darted away, running toward the safety of the bathroom.
Like usual, he easily caught her. Unlike usual, she put up a real struggle to get away, kicking, hitting, and biting any part of him that got in her way.
“Ouch,” he exclaimed when she bit his wrist. He put her in a wrestling hold and took her to the ground, pinning her beneath him. “Give me the chocolate.”
“Never,” she said, still struggling to get away.
He flipped her onto her back and pinned her full beneath him, pressing her hard into the floor so she was rendered immobile. They were face-to-face now and panting with exertion.
“Maggie,” he breathed.
“What?” she snapped, and then he kissed her.
Maggie responded immediately, dropping the chocolate to plunge her fingers in his messy, tousled hair. They kissed for a full four minutes before taking a breath and pulling back to stare at each other.
“Uh-oh,” she whispered.
“Uh-oh we crossed the invisible line, or uh-oh this is a bad idea and we should stop?” he asked.
“Uh-oh, I never, ever want this to stop,” she said.
He smiled. “The third option is always the best,” he said and kissed her again.