Chapter 23
Five months later.
The expanse of Puget Sound was mesmerizing.
Willow couldn’t resist having a coffee and staring at the beauty before she started her shopping.
She heard the soft footsteps on the deck behind her but didn't turn.
Other people were scattered around the dock, minding their own business.
It was the perfect place to be alone and sit with your thoughts.
The ocean stretched endlessly before her, the rhythmic waves against the rocks below both soothing and hypnotic.
“My husband is an explosives expert, too.”
The voice was feminine, calm, and carried an undertone of authority that made Willow's instincts sharpen. She kept her gaze on the horizon, her fingers wrapped around her coffee cup.
“Is that so?” Willow's tone was neutral, giving nothing away.
“Mmm.” The woman moved to stand beside her, maintaining a respectful distance. Willow caught the scent of expensive perfume. “He goes by the call sign Smoke. I'm Charley.”
Willow glanced sideways. The woman was polished and beautiful.
She wore designer jeans, a cashmere sweater with her long dark hair pulled up in a ponytail that hung almost to her butt.
She had an ease in her bearing that spoke of confidence.
Yes, she was pretty, but she also had sharp eyes that assessed everything.
“Willow.” She offered nothing more.
“I know. Willow Tucker.” Charley smiled, her gaze following Willow's out to the water. “I also know you're one hell of a pilot. The kind that doesn't come around often.”
Willow's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “I'm retired.”
“Are you?” Charley tilted her head. “Or are you just … recovering?”
The silence stretched between them, filled only by the cry of seagulls and the distant rumble of the waves.
“I'm not interested in going back to the CIA,” Willow finally said, her voice firm. Wasn’t it just like the CIA to send someone to recruit her … again.
“I'm not asking you to. Actually, that would be really awkward since I work at Guardian.” Charley leaned against the railing, mirroring Willow's posture but angled slightly toward her. “We’re offering you something different. Something with options.”
Willow turned to look at her fully now, one eyebrow raised.
Charley met her gaze steadily. “We have an aircraft depot about an hour up the coast. It manages repairs, scheduled maintenance, and parts inventory. We need someone who knows birds inside and out to run it. Someone who understands what's on the line when equipment fails.”
“Guardian,” Willow said. It wasn't a question.
Charley's smile was slight but genuine. “I'm one of the COOs, yes.”
“And if I'm not interested in being chained to a desk?”
“Girl, this isn’t a chain. It’s a way to pass the time between missions.
” Charley straightened, crossing her arms loosely.
“When Levi's home, you two run the depot.
When he's deployed, and if you're needed and want to go, you travel with him as his pilot and partner. Your choice. Every single time.”
Willow's heart kicked against her ribs. The thought of flying again, of being in the air with Levi at her side instead of waiting and wondering if he'd come home …
She forced the hope down, buried it deep. “Why are you doing this? Why are you offering this to me?”
“Because you're not just a pilot, Willow. You're a survivor. You know how to think on your feet, how to adapt, and how to keep your head when everything goes sideways.” Charley's expression softened just slightly. “And because Z trusts you. That matters more than any résumé.”
Willow looked back out at the water, her mind racing.
She'd been adrift since they’d returned.
It wasn’t bad. She loved being with Levi and spending her time with him.
But sometimes she felt like she’d been caught between who she'd been and who she was becoming.
The idea of having a purpose again, of being useful …
“I have nightmares,” she said quietly, surprising herself with the admission. She’d been hiding that fact from Levi. Or at least she’d tried.
“Most of us do.” Charley's voice was understanding, not pitying. “That's why Guardian has the best support staff in the business. Therapists, doctors, trainers. Whatever you need, when you need it. No stigma, no judgment.”
Willow swallowed hard against the sudden tightness in her throat.
“Think about it,” Charley said, reaching into her pocket.
She pulled out a thick black card and held it between two fingers.
Nothing but a phone number was printed on its matte surface.
“Give me a call when you're ready. No pressure, no timeline.
The offer stands whether it's tomorrow or six months from now.”
Willow took the card, the weight of it substantial in her palm. She turned it over, but the back was blank.
Charley pushed off the railing and took a step back. “For what it's worth, I think you'd be good at it. And I think it might be good for you, too.” She paused, then added, “Levi's lucky to have you in his corner. Talk to him and make a decision.” Charley's smile was knowing.
Before Willow could formulate a response, Charley turned and walked back toward the parking area behind the seafood markets.
Willow stood alone on the deck, the black card in her hand and the vast Pacific spread out before her.
Levi was running his usual route along the beach when he spotted the figure leaning against the wooden railing at the trail entrance. Something about the man's posture sent recognition clicking into place before Levi could even make out his features.
Lycos. And there was another man just past him. Levi didn’t recognize the other guy, but he recognized the stance. He was a Guardian. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind. The question was why Lycos and another Guardian were here on the beach he ran every afternoon.
He slowed to a jog, then a walk, his breathing controlled despite the five miles he'd just covered. Sweat dampened his shirt, and the afternoon sun beat warm against his shoulders.
“Bit far from home, aren't you?” Levi stopped a few feet away, hands on his hips.
Lycos pushed off the railing with that same easy grace he'd had the first time they'd met in that jail so many years ago. The man didn't age; he just existed in some eternal state of sharp-eyed competence.
“Could say the same about you, Z.” Lycos's mouth curved in a half-smile. “Playing house suits you. You look … settled.”
Levi's jaw tightened. “That a problem?”
“Not for me. This is Smoke. He has the same specialty as you. He likes to make things go boom.”
“That isn’t what I like,” Smoke said and then laughed. “Ah, hell, who am I fooling. It’s awesome, but the control is where it’s at.”
Levi blinked and looked at the man again. He was a bit older than Lycos but fit. Smoke reminded him of Fury. There was something caged there. Just like Lycos. Hell, like all of them.
Smoke crossed his arms, his gaze hitting Z. “We have a proposition for you. “
The silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant crash of waves and the cry of gulls overhead. Levi grabbed a water bottle that Lycos offered him, taking a long drink to buy himself a moment. Then he asked, “What is it?”
“Simple question.” Lycos tilted his head. “Do you still want to work?”
The answer came too quickly, too instinctively. “Yes.”
Z kind of hated how true it was. How much he missed the clarity of a mission, the focus required when lives hung in the balance, and the satisfaction of knowing his skills mattered.
Shit, the feeling of the weight of C4 in his hands, the precision of setting charges, the controlled destruction that saved lives instead of taking them randomly.
But he was building a life here with Willow.
And it was a good life, a peaceful life …
but there was a restlessness under his skin that daily runs and homebound errands couldn’t touch.
“You haven't discussed coming back to work with her,” Smoke said, and it wasn't a question.
“Haven't found a time that seemed right.” Levi's fingers tightened around the water bottle.
“Because there is no right time for this conversation.” Lycos's expression softened almost imperceptibly. “There's just the conversation itself.”
“She's been through enough.” She was still healing.
“And she's still here. Still standing.” Lycos straightened. “Give her some credit. She's tougher than you think.”
“I know exactly how tough she is.” Levi's voice carried an edge now. “That's not the point.”
Smoked asked, “Then what is?”
Levi looked away, toward the ocean that had become so familiar these past months.
“I love what we have. The quiet, the routine, just …
being together. Figuring out who we are when no one's shooting at us or hunting us down.” He dragged a hand through his sweat-dampened hair.
“But if I'm honest—” The words stuck in his throat.
“You miss it,” Smoke finished for him. “The work. The purpose. The explosives and the control.”
“Yeah.” The admission felt like a betrayal, even though Willow wasn't there to hear it. Even though he had an idea she’d be okay with it. “I do.”
“Nothing wrong with that, Z. You're a demolitions expert, one of the best I've ever recruited.
It's not just what you do. It's who you are.” Lycos's voice was matter of fact, neither judging nor absolving.
“Question is whether you can find a way to be that person and still have what you've built here.”
Levi's heart kicked hard against his ribs. “Is there a job?”
“There is.” Lycos pulled his hands from his pockets. “Needs your specific expertise. Time sensitive. Critical.”
“When?”
“We need an answer tomorrow.” Lycos met his eyes squarely. “You're either in, or you're out, Z. No more fence-sitting. No more pretending you can ignore who you are.”
The weight of it settled over Levi's shoulders. It sat heavy with responsibility and purpose and the knowledge that lives would depend on his skills.
“Tomorrow,” Levi repeated.
“Talk to her. Be honest.” Lycos took a step back.
“Whatever you two decide, make sure it's a decision you can both live with. Guardian will always have work for you, but that woman?” He gestured vaguely toward the house in the distance.
“She's a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Don't fuck it up because you couldn't have an uncomfortable conversation.”
“Lycos—”
“Tomorrow, Z. Before fourteen-hundred hours.” Lycos and Smoke turned at the same time and started walking toward the parking area where a nondescript sedan waited. “Make your call,” Smoke said over his shoulder.
Levi stood alone on the trail, his chest heavy. He watched until the men disappeared from view. The afternoon suddenly felt heavier. What was he going to do? The peaceful life he'd built with Willow was the best thing he’d ever known.
He looked back toward the path he’d run to get here. His heart felt like it was being pulled in two directions. Toward the woman he loved more than his life, the one who'd become his anchor, or toward the work that had defined him long before he'd met her.
Tomorrow.
He had until tomorrow to figure out how to be both the man she deserved and the assassin Guardian needed.
If that were even possible.