Chapter 20
Emotionally, Tayla was right back where she started a week ago—wanting to hug Leland, and throttle her stubborn uncle at the same time.
“Leland, you have to be nicer to the nurses. They’re doing their job.”
“They don’t need to come in here every few minutes. I’m fine. Where’s that doctor? He was supposed to come by before lunch.”
She was thrilled to tears that he felt well enough to complain. He didn’t speak much the first twenty-four hours after the surgery. That was scary. Seeing him weak. It wrecked her.
She’d held his hand while he slept. When he woke, he’d told her he loved her. And apologized again for putting her in danger. She’d spent two nights by his side, listening to the doctors, praying he healed quickly.
But now, she felt the need to stay close for the nurses’ well-being more than Leland’s. “The doctor will be by soon. You have to stop snapping at the nurses. They have to check—”
“Knock, knock.” Jason’s voice drifted into the room.
His presence elicited an unbidden grin on her face. And she didn’t care that Leland noticed. “Hey. I didn’t think you’d get back that quick.”
He shrugged. “Knox and I convinced Drakos his life would be in perpetual danger as long as he hung on to the disputed goods. He agreed to hand over most of it to Frederick. Knox called a friend in the FBI, though.”
“Chuck?” Leland asked.
“Yeah.” He nodded to Leland, then looked at Tayla. “He’s on the FBI’s Art Crime Team. He’s going to make sure none of Drakos’ treasures have been reported stolen before Frederick takes possession.”
“How does Frederick feel about that?” Tayla asked.
“After everything that’s happened,” Jason lifted his chin toward Leland.
“Frederick decided he doesn’t want anything that will garner so much dangerous attention.
I’m not saying Drakos and Frederick have both been scared straight, but maybe straighter than before?
At least for a while.” He stepped closer to Leland’s bed. “So, how are you feeling today?”
“I’ll be fine when I can get out of here. I don’t like hospitals.”
Jason shook his head. “No one likes hospitals, Leland.”
“The doctor will stop by soon,” Tayla said. “He’ll tell us how soon you’ll be strong enough to fly home.”
“I’m ready now,” Leland groused.
Jason touched her shoulder. “Can I talk to you outside?”
“You can’t talk in front of me?” Leland asked.
“We’ll just be in the hallway,” Tayla assured him. “If the doctor shows up, I’ll come back in.” She squeezed his hand.
“Wait a minute,” Leland said, a new softness in his tone. “Jason, I haven’t said . . .” He cleared his throat. “Thank you for saving Tayla twice the other night. You saved us both. And took a bullet doing it. You’re . . . a good man, Jason Bridger. I’m grateful. I won’t forget what you did.”
“Anytime, Leland.”
“Now,” he said in a stronger tone, “go have your private conversation.” He waved them away with a mock-gruffness that wasn’t fooling anyone.
They took their cue and walked into the hallway. Tayla walked about ten steps from Leland’s door and turned to face Jason. “So, what’s up?”
Tenderness shone in his eyes. But he didn’t smile. “We haven’t had a chance to really talk the past few days. But now that Leland is feeling better . . .” He scratched his unshaven jaw.
Why did she want to tell him how devastatingly handsome he was? Probably not the right time. She had no idea what he was about to say. And he looked so serious. Not unlike that morning in the car. When he asked her out. But he’d changed his mind . . .
“I was wondering,” he continued, “if you’re still open to the idea of getting to know each other better.”
Oh. Oh, yes. And something beautiful swirled inside her. Don’t say anything cheesy. Be cool.
She gave herself a moment to gather her thoughts—which was a good idea, because things weren’t really as simple as ‘handsome nice man wants to take you to dinner.’
“Open to the idea? Yes. But, I’d like to know what changed your mind. You were pretty insistent the other night. That this . . . that we . . . that it wouldn’t work.”
“I know. But I’ve had some time to think.
” His voice dropped an octave. “You’re incredible, Tayla.
I think we met this week for a reason. I’d like to figure that out.
Not getting to know you feels like a mistake.
I’d like to find out what this is . . . between us.
” He scratched his jaw again. The five-o’clock shadow was attractive, but apparently itchy.
“So, dinner? Tonight? Unless you need to stay with Leland. I understand if you need to be with him. We can wait until we get back to Houston, if you want. I just wanted to know whether or not I already blew my chance with you.”
A warmth settled inside her. “Of course you didn’t. Tonight sounds good. Leland doesn’t need me hovering, doesn’t want me hovering. I only worry that he’s driving the nurses crazy.”
“Sounds about right.”
She spotted Leland’s doctor headed their way. “We need to pop back in. The doctor is here.”
Dear Lord, please let the doctor’s news be what we want to hear. And please make Leland behave himself if it isn’t.
ONE MONTH LATER
She has news. That’s what she said.
He tugged on his jeans and pulled a black t-shirt from his dresser.
Facing his bathroom mirror, he pushed his hands through his hair, and almost laughed out loud.
This was his life now—looking in the mirror, caring what Tayla thought.
Not that she was the least bit superficial.
She wasn’t. But he still wanted to look his best for her. And that realization made him smile.
He was happy.
And worried about the stress in her voice when she invited him over tonight—to share some news.
She’d kept her words casual. And he pretended not to notice the tension wrapped around them.
It could be anything. Maybe an unexpected work trip came up and she wouldn’t be able to see him this weekend. Maybe Leland’s doctor appointment hadn’t gone well.
He prayed the news was something positive. His gut said it wasn’t. He prayed his gut was being paranoid.
Pushing his paranoia to the back of his mind proved easy on his drive over to Tayla’s townhouse. Because Eric called.
“Hey Eric.”
“It’s official.” Less stress in his voice today. Eric almost sounded upbeat. Interesting.
“The board approved it?”
“I’ve officially stepped down.”
No surprise. “Who’s director now?”
“They’re going with Cal.”
Cal Roth. Jason had only met him twice, but it was a solid choice as far as he knew.
“But they’re keeping me.” Eric continued. “I’ll be the lead agent in another group. You and I are equals now, Jason.”
And that just sounded so messed up. For so many reasons. But Jason knew the cards might fall that way. He suspected even Eric’s colossal failure wasn’t enough for the board to cut loose one of their best assets. Plus, Eric had some long-time friends on the WhiteRock board.
Jason was present for the initial meetings with WhiteRock after they all returned from Morghana. Eric presented his side of the story well. Well enough to cause some board members to see his actions as savvy initiative instead of subversive.
He’d explained how he’d kept his cousin’s whereabouts and illegal activities secret in an attempt to track down the ‘bigger fish’ Dylan worked for. He took responsibility for ‘things getting out of hand’ as he put it, in Morghana.
That phrase tested the limits of Jason’s self-control. Was he referring to Leland getting shot or Gus’s murder? Or was it Tayla’s kidnapping? Or when he deliberately put Jason’s entire team in danger with his call to Dylan?
Gus’s death should’ve gotten Eric fired.
End of story. Nothing was going to change the way Jason felt about that.
But at least Eric wasn’t his boss anymore.
And he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want WhiteRock to retain all the intelligence Eric collected.
And his contacts around the globe. And his skills.
Okay, so yeah. Eric was an asset they needed.
“I know it will take me some time to earn back your trust,” Eric said.
Jason didn’t know if that was even possible. He let that statement swing in awkward silence for a few beats. “Yeah, we’ll see. Listen Eric, I need to go.”
“Okay. Thanks for answering my call. See ya around.”
Frustration about Eric stewed until he turned onto Tayla’s street. Focusing on her white two-story townhouse, he tried to kick his former-boss’s betrayal from his mind. For now.
He maneuvered his F150 into her narrow driveway. Thankfully, she’d parked in her single-car garage, relieving him of the precarious street parking situation.
Walking up to her front porch, he noted several new pots full of bright flowers. He had no idea what they were called, but the flowers, the wreath on the door, and even the welcome mat made her modest home appear happy.
He couldn’t imagine what her house must have looked like when she was married to Spencer Carmichael.
She could have kept some of his money. She could be living in a mansion, with a pool, and a tennis court, or whatever.
At first, he was surprised she’d donated her late husband’s billions.
He guessed most people would’ve kept the money.
Until he knew what Spencer did to her. What he tried to do. Now, he understood Tayla was trying to distance herself from Spencer as much as possible. His death wasn’t enough. She needed to rid herself of his money. Not the route everyone would take. But Tayla wasn’t everyone.
He knocked. And while he waited on the porch, he realized he would feel less comfortable walking into a house solely purchased with Spencer Carmicheal’s money. Yeah. He got it. This was Tayla’s home.
When she opened the door, all thoughts of Spencer Carmicheal, Eric’s phone call, and the rest of the world fled his mind.