Riley.
She wasn’t just beautiful. She wasluminous. The late sunlight caught in her dark hair, turning it into threads of mahogany and gold. A deep blue shirt skimmed over her loosely. The color pulled the blue from her eyes and made them sharp, alive. When she smiled at him, something deep in his chest cracked open. Lord, did she hear it? His soul shattered and let loose something he’d held locked down for far too long.
This wasn’t the broken, haunted woman he’d carried off that cargo ship fifteen months ago. This wasn’t even the careful, rebuilding Riley he’d come to know in a multitude of shared words. This was Riley Shoemaker in full force. She was confident, vibrant, alive.
And she was nervous.
He caught it in her small tells. The subtle tuck of her hair behind her ear, the almost imperceptible tremor in her fingers as she stepped forward. The sight cut through his own nerves in an instant.
This was Riley. His Riley. And she was worried about whether she was enough for him.
Unacceptable.
Talon crossed the space between them in three long strides, the packed dirt muffling under his boots. Her eyes widened slightly, that flicker ofbreathless surprise he’d seen before lighting in her expression. He could feel her presence radiating toward him, as tangible as heat shimmering off the pavement.
He reached for her hands, taking them gently in his own. Her skin was soft and warm, her pulse beating quickly under his thumbs. He turned her palms upward, holding her gaze, steady and unwavering, before lowering his head and pressing his lips to the center of each palm.
The taste of salt and warm skin lingered a moment longer than necessary. His lips stayed against her skin just a fraction longer, enough for the rest of the world to disappear.
When he lifted his head, her breath audibly caught. And for the first time since he’d stepped out of the hospital a year ago, Talon felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
“You are more beautiful than I remember,” Talon said, his voice rougher than intended. The words slipped out before he could filter them, but he didn’t regret them. “Maybe that’s because I know you now. Maybe it’s because my heart sees you as gorgeous.”
Riley’s breath hitched again. For a long moment, neither of them moved. The late-afternoon sunlight slanted across her hair, catching threads of chestnutand gold, her blue eyes fixed on him like she was seeing him for the first time. Or maybe the way he’d hoped she’d see him one day.
“Talon,” she whispered, and the way his name sounded in her voice was heaven. It was soft, a little shaky, full of something unspoken. Man, it hit him like a sucker punch to the chin. Direct, sharp, and impossible to ignore. Every instinct screamed to pull her against him, to wrap her in his arms and keep her there.
Instead, he stepped back a fraction, his discipline slipping into place even as his hands stayed linked with hers. “How was your first week back?”
“Better than I expected.” Her smile was genuine now, the kind of smile that reached her eyes. “Scary, but good scary. Like jumping out of an airplane.”
“Have you ever jumped out of an airplane?”
“No.” Her lips curved. “But I imagine it feels something like this.”
Talon felt his own mouth twitch upward. It was an honest-to-God smile, the kind that would make his team suspect he’d been compromised. “Come on. We have a date waiting.”
He’d chosenthe location with the precision he brought to every operation, and as far as he was concerned, the date was as important as any operation he’d planned. There was a small restaurant in the town of Boka, far enough from both compounds to give them privacy but close enough to stay inside his team’s security net.
The owner, a former French Foreign Legion sergeant, greeted Talon with a nod that conveyed both recognition and discretion. The air held the briny scent of the river and the faint smoke of grilling fish. A warm breeze softened as the sun dropped lower.
They sat at a table on the terrace overlooking the river. Yes, it was still hot, but not as intense as the day’s inferno. The setting sun turned the water to liquid gold. As it sank beyond the horizon, it cast long shadows that stretched across the wood deck. A lantern on their table flickered in the breeze. Dusk deepened, adding a soft halo of light that made the whole scene feel almost … unguarded.
Riley had started the evening sitting just a little too straight, her shoulders squared as though bracing for impact. But over the course of the meal, the tension eased from her posture. She laughed more easily, leaned in when he spoke, her handfinding his without hesitation. Seeing her like this was … incredible. How many times had he wished she were close enough for him to study every expression or to feel the warmth of her hand? Tonight was a different kind of overwhelming. In some ways, it was more intense than anything combat had ever thrown at him.
“Tell me about training the SRF,” Riley said, her fingers threaded through his. He’d told her about it because it was public knowledge that Guardian held the contract to train the SRF. However, the location was undisclosed, and he kept it from her for security measures.
“Some are getting better,” Talon said, his thumb tracing idle circles against her skin, marveling at how natural the gesture felt. The connection grounded him. “The ones who want to learn are making progress. The others …” He shrugged slightly. “You can’t teach someone to care about staying alive.”
“That sounds like something you’d know about.”
Her tone was light, but her eyes … her eyes were all focus. In their conversations, she’d always been perceptive, but this wasn’t just Riley noticing things in his words. This was Riley seeinghim.
“I care about staying alive,” he said carefully.
“Do you?” she asked softly. “Or do you just care about keeping other people alive?”
The question landed with surgical precision, slipping under the armor he’d built over the years. His life had always been weighed in terms of acceptable risk: the mission over himself, the people he protected over his own survival. He’d never had to put it into words. Not even in the unguarded texts he’d sent her.
