Chapter Twelve #2
“I’ve loved you damn near since the first moment I saw you.”
“But—”
“I know. But everything.” His head shook. “Everything shouldn’t have happened. Except for you and me.”
Her lips parted. Nothing came out.
“I wasn’t with you because of Hagan, and I didn’t know how to explain that job without hurting you.”
“You dated me for…” She swallowed hard. “As a job.”
“It was never like that.”
“Then what was it like?” she whispered.
“I repaid every cent from that job and stayed by your side.”
“You didn’t tell me that!”
“Didn’t get a chance,” he pointed out. “But look. It didn’t matter whether or not Hagan hired GSI. You walked into my life like bam. Then I found out you might be in danger? There wasn’t another man on earth that I’d trust enough to guard you against the unknown.”
The unknown had tortured her after Dylan’s death.
The trial had been a media sensation, and even by the time it ended, no one had a clear understanding of the motives.
Roxana had been terrified, dreading each day that led to the sentencing of her brother’s killer.
But then she’d met Jason. Nothing could go wrong when he took her hand.
She had pictured Jason as her guardian angel. Maybe she still had all this time.
He stood from the couch and paced to the far side of the suite with his chin tucked to his chest. He pinched the bridge of his nose and pulled a deep breath, stalking back toward the couch. His weary blue eyes met her gaze. “Do you remember the day we met?”
“Of course.” It wasn’t every day that a six-foot-plus man made of solid muscles and intelligent eyes introduced himself at the library. “You asked if you could sit at our table.”
He nodded. “But I saw you and your mom earlier that day.”
Roxana straightened. “What do you mean?”
“I’d just moved back into town.”
“I remember,” she said tightly. “You were at the library.”
“Yeah, I needed a voter registration card. Thought the library would have it.”
Her eyebrow arched. “But you already saw me?”
He nodded. “Earlier. You were across the street.”
“No.” She shook her head. “People don’t remember strangers.”
Jason grinned. “You made a hell of an impression.”
Her stomach lurched. What had she done?
“I came out of the bank. You were pushing your mom into an ice cream shop.” He closed his eyes for a moment as if recalling the day. “A woman knocked over a napkin dispenser on the patio outside the shop."
Roxana suddenly, vividly recalled the moment they walked into a whirlwind of napkins.
“The wind scattered the damn things everywhere,” he continued, “and that lady turned as red as a tomato.”
“You saw that?” Roxana pressed her hand to the base of her throat. That poor woman had been on the cusp of an anxiety attack. A situation she knew well.
“You set the wheelchair’s brake and picked up napkins, chatting with the woman until she snapped out of her funk.
” Jason lifted his shoulders with a small head shake.
“A couple people grabbed napkins that flew onto their table, but you stayed there and talked like she was an old friend. Like the whole problem was nothing.”
“It was nothing. She needed help, and I helped.”
Jason crossed the room and lowered himself until he was at eye level with her in the desk chair. He brushed her drying hair over her shoulder, then touched her cheek with the back of his knuckles. The caress slid to her chin and fell away. “The thing is, you believed that.”
“It was,” Roxana whispered.
“No one helped her. No one went out of their way to pick the napkins up and make sure she was okay except you.” He shook his head.
“That doesn’t happen in my line of work.
Hell, babe, the world’s harsh. That doesn’t happen anywhere unless someone believes their good deed will be captured on a cell phone camera. ”
Her forehead furrowed. “That’s cynical.”
“Did anyone else pick up a damn napkin?”
Roxana shook her head. “No.”
“I was across the street and more mesmerized by you than I knew possible.” The corner of his lips lifted. “When I saw you at the library…” He shrugged. “Already in love.”
“That’s not true.”
“I knew I’d spend the rest of my life with you.”
Roxana snorted. “Don’t feed me a line, Jason Green.”
“It’s not,” he promised. “You nudged the chair from under the table with your foot, and I was done for.”
Her cheeks heated over what had seemed like a bold move.
But she’d only kicked the chair because she hadn’t trusted her voice when he asked to join them.
Jason had sat down at the library table, said hello to her mom, introduced himself, and they’d been inseparable from that day on—except during his work trips.
“You lied about your job, where you went…”
Lines creased his forehead. “I gave you my cover story and will spend forever making that right.”
“I don’t know a significant portion of who you are.”
“A significant portion of my job. That wasn’t who I was. And I quit.”
She gnawed on her lip. “You quit for me…”
“For both of us. I should’ve quit when I met you. Hell, I don’t know. I had time off, then didn’t want to walk away from a gig with that much flexibility.”
“You’ve killed people?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“So they didn’t kill me first.”
“Stop!” Roxana held up her hands. “This is why I wanted to love an accountant! Hagan’s given me that same answer.”
“It’s the truth, but I’m not a mercenary. My job was to stake out situations and provide information on fuckin’ awful people that deserve to die. Wasn’t my job to put a bullet in someone’s head, but I played a role.”
“What role does Vanka play?”
“That woman’s stone cold.” Jason shook his head and gave a look. “Vanka’d be the one to put a bullet in someone’s head.”
Roxana wasn’t sure she agreed with the stone-cold assessment, and she couldn’t picture Vanka doing anything messy. “Spiker was the one with the gun.”
Jason’s jaw sawed. “And he’s going to pay for that.”
“What’s Spiker’s job?”
“Who the hell knows anymore?” Jason took another breath. “I had another reason to quit, and before today, I would’ve called it a gut feeling. Something’s rotting from the inside out. I didn’t trust it.”
“Which is why you went on Etsy and hid emergency escape plans instead of talking to me?”
“When you put it like that…” Jason grimaced. “Yeah—Are we okay?”
Roxana’s heart lurched, but she didn’t know. “How’s your ankle?”
His expression faltered. “Better.”
“Good.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I want to go to bed.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Good idea.”
Jason waited until she’d turned out the bedside light and pulled up the covers to walk through the open bedroom door and knock on the wall. “Still awake?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes followed him in the dark. Every step closer electrified her frazzled nerves.
“Roxana.” He sat on the side of her bed and swept a hand over the outline of her shoulder. “You need to know that I will fix the fallout from my job and between us.”
The pain in her heart burned like a blister. “I know.”
“All right.” He toyed with a lock of her hair, then he stood. “I love you, Roxana. Night.”
He turned with a small limp. A sudden certainty sliced through her wary confusion and heartache. Roxana refused to let him go. She sprang for his hand and tugged him to her side. “Don’t leave.”
He sat on the edge of her mattress, silent. Listening.
Roxana waited their eyes locked. “I can’t do this without you.”
“Do what?”
“Anything.”
His hand squeezed hers. “Thing is, babe, you can. You’re fierce.”
She didn’t know what to say.
“I want your forgiveness. I’ll earn your trust. But it won’t happen if you don’t know that you can do everything without me.”
Of every thought she’d dissected, of all the anger and blame she’d laid, she had thought how Jason saw her as strong. Despite the weaknesses that she saw as flaws. “I don’t want to do anything without you.”
He swallowed hard and ran his thumb over her knuckles.
“I love you, Jason.”
He tensed. Stress radiated from his shadowed expression as if he were waiting for a “but.” Roxana tugged her fingers away and pulled back the covers. “I don’t want to do anything without you. Please…” Her sore muscles protested as she scooted over to make room for what would heal her. “Hold me.”
Jason let out a deep breath and folded into bed.
Happy tears welled in her eyes. He wrapped her to his chest in a careful, possessive embrace.
She savored his familiar strength and prayed he could understand that moments like this would repair their chasm.
“I love you,” she whispered again, clinging to him this time. “I will always love you.”
He kissed her forehead.
“This is what I need. The raw truth and your touch.”
He nodded. “Promise.”
Roxana tilted her chin and pressed a kiss to his lips, finally ready to fall asleep.