Chapter 5 #2
Rory’s hands rested on either side of her, gripping the step, and as he positioned himself to sit next to her, his palm accidentally brushed along the top of her hand. As they both glanced down at the contact, Chris couldn’t help but notice how small and dainty she looked compared to him.
“Treasure hunting is ninety percent research. It’s not all diving and scaling cliffs or rappelling into caves. And then when you do find a location, there’s a ton of work. Ground-penetrating radar, sonar software, infrared tech, drones . . . it’s complex.”
“You miss it,” he said, observing what could only be equated to as loss or mourning in her eyes when she chanced a look at him.
“Yes and no. Being in the Atlantic Ocean, swimming inside a wreck, knowing at any minute it could cave in on you—it’s an experience, that’s for sure.
Seeing the twisted and broken pieces, the medley of steel and pipes.
The swirl of silt on the ocean floor. It’s like being on another planet down there.
” Her hands moved into the air as she spoke with excitement.
“Or when you’re in a secret cave, and you know if someone else shows up, you might have to run, fight, or shoot, and not necessarily in that order, your pulse will throb like crazy. ”
“So, you’re an adrenaline junkie.” He understood that.
Hell, he was the same way. “Were you more like Indiana Jones or the dude in Romancing the Stone?” He hoped to lighten the mood since a sudden darkness hovered over her, and he wanted to go back to laughing until his stomach hurt. He didn’t want to see pain in her eyes.
She chuckled. “You saw Romancing the Stone?”
“Of course.” He lifted his chin to prompt an answer. “So?”
“Neither. More like Kate Hudson in Fool’s Gold, and not because her character was a diver, but because she was with a guy obsessed with finding treasure.
” She shook her head. “But I got out five years ago.” Her gaze moved back to the open field of grass stretched out before them.
There was plenty of land for her to set up a training center.
“I don’t miss Andrew, and although I do miss treasure hunting, I’d never go back to that life. I left for a reason.”
So, what had she been doing during the last five years that would have people wanting her dead? “But you won’t tell me the reason?”
“Oh, that one is easy.” Her pinky finger touched his, most likely on accident, but the slight touch had him wanting more. “I was strongly opposed to keeping what I felt wasn’t mine to keep. And I had issues with artifacts winding up in museums where they didn’t belong, either.”
Ah. Explained why there were no artifacts displayed around her house.
“There’s a huge black market for antiquities, and the demand is high,” she continued. “Treasure hunters are all basically outlaws.”
“With a little bit of pirate thrown in,” he teased. “But I guess that makes sense. So, what you’re saying is that you’re a good person.” He smiled. “Not a criminal I should be worried about.”
“I did my fair share of things that would . . .” She let her voice trail off. “But um, Andrew will be in D.C. a week from tonight,” she quickly said. “He’s presenting some artifacts from his latest find. A Spanish galleon. He invited me, but I wasn’t planning to go.”
“But you’re thinking about it now since you’ll be so close? You know, staying with me and Bear in Virginia.”
“Nice try.” She peered at him with a grin.
“Wait, are you referring to Andrew Cutter? The Andrew Cutter, the one I’ve seen on TV?” The Brad Pitt look-alike, the Ocean’s Eleven, total badass version of Brad Pitt.
She nodded. “I know what you’re thinking.
He’s in his late forties, but I promise I don’t have father issues or something.
He just got me wrapped up in the excitement and allure of treasure hunting, and we dated on and off while working together, but then I realized that life wasn’t for me, so I walked away. ”
That five-year gap between then and now was what he still had to figure out.
And clearly, she was vague as shit unless high, so he wasn’t sure how he’d pull the truth out of her.
But he had no choice but to do whatever it’d take to keep her safe.
No way would he be able to walk away from her with a possible target on her head, not when he only finally found a woman that made him . . .
He blinked a few times, pushing his thoughts away for the time being. “But training is the life for you now?”
“That was the life I was supposed to have had if my professor hadn’t sought me out.” She brought her palms to her jeaned thighs and smoothed them up and down.
“But is it the life you want?” As much as he wanted her to train Bear, it’d crush him to have a courageous and adventurous woman like her do something that wasn’t in her heart.
He was all about pursuing what made you happy, and he was a living, breathing example of that.
Operating and the teams were everything to him.
“Yes.” But the word came out strained, and the tight draw of her lips before she rose from the step was a red flag.
“Why New Orleans? Why set up shop here?” he pushed, knowing he now had no choice but to dive into the part of the evening he’d been avoiding.
Unraveling the mystery that was Rosemary McAdams wasn’t going to happen in one night.
But one night was all he had to convince her to work with Bear.
If Chris could manage that, he’d be able to keep her safe.
“I love the culture. The history. The food. Location. Basically everything.”
Well, that was a rehearsed line if he ever heard one, one she probably offered those who asked, but he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of generic answers, not when it came to her.
Rory tucked her hands into the deep pockets of her sweater, eyes cast to the ceiling fan that wasn’t on.
“And it’s far enough away from your family to keep them safe but close enough for you to see them when you want?” The bubble of bliss they’d been floating in had officially popped.
“Chris.” Her warning shot was fired with enough flare it nearly knocked him back a step.
Rory’s hazel gaze met his face, full of that same fire, and he held both palms in the air. “How are you feeling? Stomach okay? Head?”
“Way to change the subject,” she said as if now out of steam.
“Thought that’s what you wanted, but we will have to talk about the proverbial elephant in the room sooner or later. Preferably sooner.” Who wanted her dead, and why? Chris’s life, the nature of his work, was usually the biggest secret in the room, but it seemed he had some competition.
“I know what you’re thinking.” She removed her hands from her pockets.
“You do, do ya?” he asked with a casual smile playing across his lips, a second chance to try and squash the heavy with a little light before the darkness of the truth clouded their evening again.
“My life is complicated, but being in Louisiana, well, I was hoping to uncomplicate things.” She put a hand to the hollow of her throat, and his eyes followed the path of her fingers as they trailed down to the curve of her tank top.
“If I were to bring Bear to New Orleans to train, would you consider it then?” He wasn’t sure how he’d swing that, and Elaina would be devastated, but he didn’t want to screw up Rory’s life. He also didn’t want her getting hurt, so he had to find a way to protect her somehow.
She frowned. “You can’t do that. You and I both know that.”
“But if I could?”
“I won’t let you.” She set her lips in that now-familiar tight, stubborn line.
“I hunt bad guys for a living, you know.” He carefully considered his next words. “I’d do anything and everything to keep you safe.”
“I don’t doubt you would, but it’s not your job to protect me.”
“And whose job is it?”
“Mine, and the four firearms inside my house.”
Four? His brows rose in surprise. Well, okay.
“And my black belt in karate has me covered.” She stepped around the table and moved closer to him, a challenging lift of her chin.
“I need you,” he managed out. “Bear does, too. If you don’t need protecting, then please let me hire you.
Think about how badly I’ll screw up without you.
” Time for a new plan. It was clear he wouldn’t win her over by suffocating her with ideas of keeping her safe.
“Plus, you haven’t had experience in a decade.
I imagine if you can advertise the fact you trained a Belgian Malinois for a SEAL Team, that might look good to future clients. ”
“You work for a security company now,” she shot back, but there was curiosity in her eyes.
“Tomato, tomahto.”
Rory gave him her back, and his eyes moved to the set of Adirondack chairs down by the firepit.
“You think you can lay off the charm while I’m there? No flirting. No sexy looks like you were giving me tonight?”
“I was not giving sexy—” He cut himself off when she faced him with the most adorable twist of her lips and cute tightening of her eyes. “I can do whatever you need me to do if it means you’ll work with Bear.” And let me help you.
“And if I stay at your house in Virginia, it’ll only be to make sure you don’t let Bear sleep with you. No late-night drinks while wearing lingerie.”
“I promise not to wear lingerie.” He set a hand to his heart.
“Be serious.”
“I am. Lingerie chafes. No worries. I won’t wear it.”
She closed the last bit of space between them and looked up to meet his gaze since she was about six to eight inches shorter than him. “One condition. One rule if I go.”
“Anything,” he mouthed, eager and grateful it hadn’t taken too much convincing to lure her to Virginia in hopes of saving her life.
She arched a brow and offered her hand, and he observed her long, slender fingers and started to reach for her when she whispered, “No falling for me.”