Chapter 24
Lia fanned her hand over the top of her coffee cup. “Holy shit, Tessa. That story is hot. Who doesn’t love a protective alpha who orders his woman to be safe and then kisses her like he’ll go full caveman if anyone harms one curl on her head?”
“That’s not what I said happened.”
“That’s what it sounded like to me. You should have said screw work and let him bang your fears clear out of you.”
Tessa glanced at her security detail who sat two picnic tables away with a gaze as alert and menacing as the General’s. “Lower your voice, please. Everyone in the park, including my bodyguard, doesn’t need to hear you.”
“Sorry.” Lia leaned across the table. “I’m on my third coffee today. I’m a little hyper. Going back to work after being caught in an explosion and then recovering at the Langley resort is exhausting.”
“You forgot to add ‘sneaking into Malcolm’s suite every night’ to the exhausting part. Convenient that the two of you are staying at the mansion as our emotional support besties. Are you ever going to tell me what the deal is with you and surfer-boy lawyer?”
“We call him JAG, remember?” Lia sat back and shrugged. “I’m still mad at him for pretending to be unconscious and scaring the crap out of me.”
Tessa lifted her cup. “It was kind of sweet how he put you first.”
“Yes, but stupid and reckless, and he refuses to see that. When he says he’s sorry, we’ll talk. But until then, I’m perfectly happy communicating with body language and dirty talk.”
Lia glanced toward the ambulance bay. “Word at the station is every available woman within fifty miles is hoping she’ll land Hudson now that he’s home.”
A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature that had slid into the sixties inched up her spine. “Hudson isn’t the settling down type. He’s considering an opportunity with a classified military project.”
That opportunity didn’t include her, and why should it?
Sam threw them together with his “matchmaking from the grave” efforts, but they weren’t beholden to happily ever after.
While she’d learned a lot about Hudson over the last week, there was still so much she didn’t know.
Were there other women in his past besides Shayla? Someone he’d never gotten over?
She ignored the stab to her heart and sipped her coffee.
Lia tipped her cup toward a man and a woman pushing a baby stroller. “Maybe Hudson isn’t the marriage and kids type, but circumstances change. Look how much they changed for you. You’re an heiress now.”
Tessa ran her finger over the smooth ruby on her hand. “I didn’t do anything to deserve it.” She blew out a breath as she scanned the playground for signs of butterscotch wrappers. “Frank’s here, and it’s only a matter of time before my past comes out.”
“I get it, sweetie, but Hudson’s not the dickhead boy from the beach. If you tell him about your past, he won’t call you names and spread rumors.”
“I know.” But the humiliation of finding “slutty thief” written on her locker in blood red lipstick hadn’t faded with time. Nor had the shame from making up a story to get out of town quickly so she didn’t have to face her troubles.
That made her as bad as Frank.
Laughter rang from the playground. A young girl raced to the swings. A man with the same tight black curls followed close behind with a warning to slow down so she didn’t trip and fall.
“You’re right. I should tell him.” She watched the father and daughter, a familiar ache blooming in her heart. She used to laugh like that with Frank. Not on the swings, but in a supermarket parking lot, him urging her to run like she’d stolen the wallet tucked into her jacket.
Because she had stolen it.
And she had to tell Hudson before the General dug deeper into her past. Her arrest—that Frank bribed the cops to wipe her record clean—hadn’t come up in any employment background checks. But human resources departments didn’t employ former intel officers.
“Tessa, sweetie.” Lia gently kicked her under the table. “You weren’t a criminal. You were a survivor.”
Tears brimmed in Tessa’s eyes. “If Sam were alive and Hudson and I had met under normal circumstances, I have no doubt he’d understand.
But since he stepped into Sam’s kitchen, supercharged emotions have been involved.
It only takes one spark to start a flame, and I’m terrified he may decide I’m not worth saving from the fire. ”
“Do you think you’re worthy of not just being saved, but being understood? Loved?”
Tessa pulled her ring up to her knuckle and shoved it back down. “You know I didn’t think any of those things for a long time. And then you and your mom believed in me. And then Sam. But now that Frank’s close…”
Lia reached across the table and covered Tessa’s hand. “We’ve talked about this before, but I wish you would see a therapist.”
“You know why I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. A therapist will not turn you in for something you did as a teenager.”
“I stole plenty before that.” Shame still burned whenever Tessa voiced those mistakes. “And not everyone is like your family.”
Lia’s mom hadn’t turned her in for stealing ibuprofen and energy drinks from the family’s convenience store.
Instead, the single mom sat her down and listened to Tessa explain that her mother needed the items to recover from a passing-out episode.
Then she told her to go in the back and help her daughter unbox a shipment of sunscreen.
Tessa curled her fingers into a fist under Lia’s hand. “Sometimes I’m afraid that you’ll wake up and realize that I don’t deserve your trust.”
“Not gonna happen. I never told you this and I probably should have. I admired you for the way you had your mother’s back. You stole for her.” Lia lifted their joined hands and held them up like a fist. “That’s pretty badass.”
Tessa’s eyes misted over. “That’s one way to look at it.”
“That’s the way I looked at it. I knew I wanted you as my ride or die for life.”
“And now you’re stuck with me.” Tessa wiped her eyes. “I haven’t said this in a few years, and I should say it every day. Thank you for seeing the good in me when I couldn’t.”
“Stop with the insecurities. My point is, who you are in your heart outshines everything you think tarnished you. From what you’ve told me, Hudson’s emotional maturity is right up there with his ability to please a woman. Tell him the full story about Frank.”
“Can’t debate the pleasing a woman part.” She shouldn’t debate the “tell him about Frank” part either, but her fears and insecurities argued against full disclosure with the ferocity of a lawyer defending a client on death row.
Her phone pinged with a message from an unknown number.
This is Hudson. I won’t be home for dinner. Meeting an old friend of Pop’s. All good on your end?
Despite everything, a slow smile spread across her face as she typed.
Yes. All good.
And when “all good” turned to explosively bad, she wouldn’t run this time.