30. Strike
Strike
For the last four hours, Millie hadn’t said anything, just stared at her phone between twisting her fidget tangle.
They’d taken a longer route to avoid motorway cameras and had barely spoken when they’d taken a comfort break in a layby.
Several times, he’d nearly stopped the car and pulled her onto his lap. He should have asked Cameron to guard her instead. She wasn’t safe when he was like this.
“I told you last night that one of the reasons I left was because I didn’t think I was good enough for you,” he stuttered. He’d tried to protect her from the past, but he couldn’t control her emotions any more than he could his own around her.
She hesitated, staring at him before replying, “Which is ludicrous, but I understand a bit better why.”
“Your family didn’t think I was good enough, either.
Your brother told me to stay away from you, and your mum treated me differently the closer we got,” he said.
“The only way I saw you having the future you deserved, while also ensuring my parents were okay, was by leaving. If I stayed, you’d ruin your future trying to be with me, a stupid jock who didn’t deserve you. ”
“I wish you’d shared some of that with me.”
“So do I. The mistakes of a teenager.” His laugh was strained. “I joined the army to become a man fit for your future, someone your family would accept, and if not, someone with enough money to provide for my parents and for you.”
“You were enough for me.” Her heart thundered in her chest as she rested her hand on his thigh.
“I couldn’t believe that. I was so damn impulsive. But within a day, I knew I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. I nearly returned, but it was your reaction to the letter that stopped me. Or the reaction I was told about.” He croaked on the last sentence.
“Tell me about it. I still don’t understand how I didn’t receive it.”
“As I left, I posted a letter in your letterbox, explaining what had happened, saying sorry, and that I’d always love you.
When I messaged Bear a day later, he said you’d asked your brother to return it ripped in two, with the words, ‘Never speak to me again.’ It convinced me there was no coming back.
I’d burned my future down by running away.
” Strike spoke faster and faster, his chest heaving.
“I never received a letter. I wouldn’t have reacted like that if I had. I was angry, but I wanted you back with me.”
“I’m so sorry, Millie. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know.”
“You need to stop blaming yourself.”
Now she sounded like his counsellor. He didn’t want to be someone she felt she had to fix. She was always caring about others. He wanted to be the person who cared for her.
But even though his feelings for her had never changed, he couldn’t say the same for her. She was still keeping big secrets. And even if he let her in, he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t hurt her again.
He kept people at a distance for a reason.
Maybe they could just be friends.
“I can see the sea,” Millie said softly.
The mid-afternoon sun glinted off the water. Colours were more vivid here, from the spring green fields they waited by as cars passed them on the narrow roads to the blue skies with wispy clouds slowly drifting across them. Millie opened the window and took a deep breath.
“I’m excited to see the house,” Strike said, forcing himself to relax.
He fixated on her hand still casually resting on his thigh, calming him.
“Stal, aka Jonah, said his garden has a gate at the bottom to the beach, and we’re a short walk from the cliffs and a small town.
We won’t be able to go far, but maybe we could go for quiet walks. ”
“That would be nice,” she replied softly. “I don’t want to feel trapped.”
“Me neither, wife.” He laughed awkwardly.
“There’s a weak link in our story. The neighbour and anyone we meet will think we’re lying or you’re a crappy husband.”
“Why? I’m great at undercover ops.”
“You forgot a ring.” She waggled her ring finger. The salty scent of the sea travelled through the car.
“Check the memory box under your seat.”
She eyed him suspiciously as she reached beneath it, grabbing the shoebox. Sparkles from the glitter twinkled on her skin as she ran her fingers across the top before opening it.
Her eyes widened at the ring box tucked under postcards and trinkets. The velvet covering it was worn from all the times he’d turned it over in his hand. “How long has this been here?”
“I hid it in there a few nights ago when we took the memory box from your house.”
She moved it between her hands. Her brow furrowed further. “But it’s not new. How long ago did you predict we’d pretend to be married?”
“It’s not a wedding ring. Open it.”
There was a cracking sound as she opened the box. Sparkles reflected the sun, and the topaz-like jewel was as blue as the sky. He hid his smile as she stared at the fake diamonds.
“I love it,” she whispered.
“Yeah?” He grinned.
“Where did you get it?” She slid it on her ring finger. “It fits perfectly.”
“There’s an inscription on it,” he said as they reached a small town on the coast’s edge.
He should have paid more attention to his surroundings, but he was desperate for her reaction. She removed it from her finger and twisted it. Suddenly, she froze.
“Read it out, Mixie.” He was desperate to show her he’d once been a guy worthy of love. His emotions were so tangled. He needed to speak to his therapist once they were in the safe house.
Millie whispered the inscription.
“When you see the sunset, remember me. All my love, Caleb.”
“When did you get this?” she asked.
“I picked it up the morning after we slept together. That was what your mum caught me doing and what started everything in motion. She saw the ring box in my hand,” he said, his voice straining with emotion.
“Did she think you were going to propose?” Her voice pitched higher.
“Yes. She was livid, blaming me for your decision to ditch medicine.”
“Were you going to propose?” Millie asked shakily.
“No. It was a promise ring, to tell you that no matter how far apart we were, I was there for you. I tried to explain to your mum, but she wouldn’t listen.” Strike gripped the steering wheel before flipping on the indicator and parking in the driveway of a beautiful white house.
“You kept it safe all this time?” she asked breathlessly.
He held her hand that still rested on his thigh. “Of course.”
Pretty pink flowers swayed in the breeze, and the white and grey stones leading from the drive to the front door glinted in the sun.
Millie’s stare was like wisps of promise wrapping around his body.
He opened his mouth to tell her that she’d been his only love and the only person he’d slept with when Millie said, “We’ve got company.”
An elderly woman with white hair and a broad smile strolled from her driveway to beside Strike’s car, carrying a hamper. She nudged the middle-aged woman accompanying her.
“It’s a welcoming party,” Strike said as they reached his window. He faked a smile. “I guess we need to show we’re a madly in love couple on the first day of their honeymoon.”
“I promised I’d help you show you’re not always a robot. It’s time you expressed your goofy ‘in love’ side.”
“Now? But I need to keep an eye out for danger.”
“A bodyguard like you can do both. Come on, Strike, show me how good you are at undercover ops. Imagine we’re here to recreate that erotic romance I found on Liss’s shelf. I dare you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I can’t.”
“Says the man who talked about me crawling to him this morning. How would that Strike play this?”
At that, Millie jumped out. But Strike reached the two women first.
“Hello, happy couple, and welcome to our beautiful corner of the world. I’m Joyce. And this is Merryn. She lives in town with her eighteen-year-old daughter,” the older lady said.
He beckoned Millie closer with a cocked finger, channelling the side he kept hidden. At her deepening flush and cheeky smile, he knew he was in trouble. As she sauntered toward him, her hips swaying, he suddenly felt light-headed
“This is my wife,” he said, his voice thick.
Millie poked him in the back, and he grabbed her hand and pulled her to his side. “Hi, you can call me…” she stuttered on the last word.
“Mrs. Steph Strickland,” Strike said, realising they should have discussed fake names. “And I’m Roy Strickland.”
“Lovely to meet you, Steph and Roy. Jonah told me you’re staying for two weeks.”
“Yes, we’re excited to be here, aren’t we, baby?” he replied.
Millie licked her lips, looking up at him. “We are. We can’t wait to get… comfortable after our wedding yesterday.”
He swallowed at the sensual way she said comfortable.
“I do love a wedding. Was it a big one?” Merryn asked.
“It was small but beautiful,” he stuttered, fighting against the side of him pushing to get out. “Just nice.”
Millie’s eyes twinkled, and she replied, “Please excuse my husband. He’s too polite. Lots of things went wrong yesterday. Would you believe my mum tried to push me off the dancefloor so she could dance with just him at the reception?”
“Oh, really? I love a bit of gossip,” Merryn replied. “Promise me you’ll come to my bakery in town and tell me everything. It’s called The Little Bakery of Joy.”
“I’d love to, even though Roy here would prefer to lock me in the house.”
Joyce and Merryn giggled, but Strike scowled at Millie and whispered, “We’re meant to be undercover.”
“At least I didn’t say ‘tie me to the bed,’” she hissed back.
He pressed his lips tightly, holding in a growl, before saying, “Excuse our whispering. I’m desperate to get her in the house.”
“Honeymooners. I remember my honeymoon. It was a lot of fun.” Merryn chuckled as she grabbed the hamper and held it out to Strike.
Joyce explained, “This is for you, as I suspect you don’t have any groceries.”
“That’s so kind,” Strike said, his voice warm as Millie reached under his shirt and dragged her nails down his back. He choked as he grunted, “Wasn’t that kind of her?”
“Yes, so kind.” Millie’s voice was as sweet as chocolate. He wanted to throw her on a bed and do what honeymoon couples really did.
Joyce pointed out the items in the hamper now sitting in Strike’s arms with her liver-spotted hands. “There’s bread and eggs from the chickens in my garden, honey and spread from our Saturday market, a bottle of wine from the local vineyard, and a few other bits.”
“Including cake from my bakery. I’ll save you a pastry tomorrow morning in case you visit.”
“They’re flakey bits of heaven, and Merryn is a fantastic confidant. If you ever need a bit of wisdom or someone to chat to, she is your woman.”
“Perfect,” Millie said.
Joyce beamed. “We locals care for our visitors, and Jonah has always been lovely to us. He helped make my chicken coop. He’s so handy.”
Strike nodded. “The best.”
“Don’t let me distract you. I hope we see you once or twice, if you’re not too busy,” Joyce said, wriggling her eyebrows.
“We’ll see,” Strike replied hesitantly. He gripped the basket with one hand and Millie tightly with the other. “Steph and I have many inside activities planned, don’t we, sweetheart?”
Merryn and Joyce giggled so hard they missed Millie reaching up behind Strike and flicking the back of his neck. He shook his head and pinned her with an authoritative stare as she replied, her cheeks reddening, “We do.”
“I’ll punish you for that later,” he whispered, surprising them both, before saying louder, “We’d best get our bags inside. Thanks again.”
“Have fun.” Joyce turned before saying over her shoulder, “Don’t be strangers.”
“We wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Merryn shouted.
How was Stal able to keep his secrets while he was here? The place had no privacy.
“Bye,” Strike and Millie cooed together while poking each other out of eyeshot.
Loud enough for the women to hear, he said to Millie, “Why don’t you go into the house with this, baby?”
Strike quickly deposited the bags and caught up to Millie in the doorway. He directed her to a bedroom beside the front door.
“Don’t move. I need to perform an internal check, then a perimeter check, and review Stal’s security measures.” He gave the bedroom a once-over. “You stay in this room for now, and I’ll get you when dinner is ready. And don’t you dare go to that bakery.”
“You’re a very dominant husband. I didn’t sign up for that kind of marriage,” she teased.
Blood rushed to his groin.
“Bloody brat,” he grunted as he left the room.