Obviously, he’d been wrong to hope she might want him for the long haul. Obviously, she’d given him that ultimatum as an excuse, never dreaming he would actually take her up on it. Obviously, she had made love to him because… His brain stalled on that one.
Why did she make love to me?
Pity, perhaps? Or maybe it was as simple as wanting to extinguish the fire that burned between them. Because there was no denying their explosive physical chemistry.
Of course, whatever her reasons, there was that look. The look that told him it was over.
Butbeforeit was over, he would have his say. He would swallow his pride, bite the bullet, and take out his heart and show it to her. That way, when he walked away, he would never have to wonder,What if?
“Afghanistan.” He sighed. “Sometimes I think the best part of me was killed that day. Other times I think I’ve become a much stronger, muchbetterman since.” He rubbed a hand over his beard and laughed. “Maybe it’s true what they say. The worse things bring out the best in us. Know what I mean?”
She searched his face. “N-not really.”
“Men…diedbecause of me,” he explained as best he could. “Because I got complacent. Because I dulled my own edges when I should have stayed sharp and frosty. And since that day, I’ve tried to live my life with honor and integrity, with virtue and service. I’ve tried to give some small measure of meaning to their sacrifice.” He blew out an unsteady breath. “And for the most part, I think I have. The work I’ve done for the Black Knights has made the world a better place, a safer place.”
“You are a good man, Z,” she whispered. “Under all those scowls and beneath all that macho superiority”—Macho superiority?Emily was right. He reallydidcome off like an ass—“is a truly good man. I knew it the first time we met.”
Even though a deep fissure had formed in his heart, he still found himself smiling. “If memory serves, the first time we met, you ripped me a new asshole so big I could have fit a pizza box into it.”
She shook her head. “As my daddy would have said, you’re lucky I didn’t cream your corn. You were cracking jokes while I was trying to give an Intelligence report. What did you expect?”
“To get you naked at the first available opportunity,” he admitted, surprised that even while they were saying their good-byes—thatwaswhat they were doing, wasn’t it?—they could still be friends. It was a testament to all their years together. And even though it would never be enough—he would never be satisfied with anything less thaneverythingwhen it came to Chelsea—he supposed it was something. Something to hold on to. Something to cherish.
“Really?” She blinked. “Even then?”
“Then and every day since.”
“You’re making this so hard on me. You have no idea.”
With that, the fissure zigzagging through his heart gave way, and the silly organ broke in two. “It’s okay, Chels. You don’t have to say anything more. I understand if you don’t want…” His voice broke on a sharp edge. “Me,” he finally finished.
“Oh, Z. Idowant you.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted you for…forever. I still want you, but—”
“Workin’ nine to five!”The sound of Dolly Parton’s distinctive voice crooned from the cell phone in Chelsea’s back pocket.
Dagan wanted to crush the damned device, especially when Chelsea squeezed her eyes closed and dragged in a deep sigh. She opened them, and there was no mistaking the resignation andpleadingin her eyes. “Just…give me a minute, okay?”
What could he say? He knew all about the burden of family, so he nodded his head. But thatbutat the end of her previous sentence seemed to hang in the air between them.
Chapter 33
Chelsea was obviously in the wrong line the day they distributed guts. Because like a yellow-bellied coward, the sound of her cell phone ringing filled her with relief.
She had known this…confessionwould be the hardest thing she’d ever done. But Dagan’s earnestness, his bravery and honesty were making it allsomuch worse. He was killing her with kindness one sweet word at a time.
Pulling her cell from her back pocket, she watched him watching her. His stormy eyes did a number on her already-shattered heart. Maybe because there was resignation there. And she recognized that it wasn’t anything new. Dagan Zoelner could be confident and cocky. He could be provocative and infuriating, but underneath all that, deep in the hot, beating heart of him, was always resignation. It was as if he thought his past shadowed him like a cloud he couldn’t escape.
Well, I’m going to give him a way out soon enough, she thought. She had shot a hole in her own boat all those years ago, and now she was finally sinking. But first, she would take this reprieve. Chicken liver that she was…
“Momma,” she answered without salutation. “This isn’t a good time. Can I—”
“I don’t think so, Chelsea Lynn!” her mother shouted in her ear. Grace Duvall so rarely raised her voice that Chelsea was shocked into silence. “Your face is all over the news over there! They’re sayin’ you stole something from your boss, and now you’re a…a…wanted woman!”
The hysteria and fear in her mother’s voice had Chelsea screwing her eyes closed and pinching the bridge of her nose. Her mother had downloaded the BBC news app the day Chelsea moved to England and had taken it upon herself to follow the British headlines. How could Chelsea have forgotten?
Shit on a shingle!
“It’s not what you think, Momma. I promise you that.”
