“I felt it too.” Terry stepped closer, reaching up to capture a black curl and let the silky lock slip through his fingers. “Tried to find you after I got back to Boston. Even took a bus to D.C. once I could get around well enough, but your landlord didn’t know where you’d gone. I wanted to keep our deal.”
“Our what?” Her brows furrowed, and damn if that didn’t make him want her even more.
“In the hospital? You told me everyone needed help sometimes. And that once I was back stateside, walking, I could help you paint your apartment.” Terry remembered every single moment they’d spent together, even after so long. The night they’d had under the stars. How her hands felt on his skin, how she’d soothed the pain by talking to him, treating him like he was a normal, functioning soldier. Not some broken, useless relic who’d never see combat again.
Dana smiled weakly, and Terry’s stomach somersaulted, a sensation he was wholly unprepared for. Her sniffle did him in, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her close, and relished how she molded herself to his body.
Never had a simple hug felt so right.
For a full minute, they stayed locked together until she wriggled free. “I can’t do this. It’s a three-hour drive home, and—”
“No.” The word escaped on a growl, harsher than he’d expected. But the idea of her driving that far with those dark circles under her eyes? He had to stop her. “You’re exhausted, sweetheart. We may not know each other very well, but that much is clear. I’ll get you a room. Or you can take mine. But you’re not runnin’ away from me again.”
“You…” Color flooded her cheeks. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been on my own since I was eighteen. I may be broke, but I’m not helpless.”
“Fuck. Never said you were…”
Dana pushed through the hotel door, and all he could do was watch the woman he’d fallen for walk away from him once again.
5
Dana
Crying in her car hadn’t been in the plans tonight.
Who was she kidding? She’d known coming here was a long shot, but to be dismissed by the head of Rescue International, and to find—then run away from—the man she’d deserted three years ago as well?
That took the cake.
For ten full minutes, she rested her head on her steering wheel and let herself crumble. Then she pulled out a small packet of tissues, cleaned herself up, and slid her key into the ignition.
“You’re not runnin’ from me again.”
Could she really walk away from him? Leave him when all she wanted was for him to hold her?
She owed him more than another disappearing act. A phone number. Or her email address. Something.
With a final sniffle, Dana got out of the car and marched back into the hotel lobby.
Terry leaned against a pillar, staring at his phone. “I didn’t get Micah’s last name,” he said. “His aunt is Dana Michaels. Mom is Laura.” After a beat, he tugged on his hair and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “Dammit, X. I know. But she means somethin’ to me. I can’t not help. Do what you can and call me back.”
“Who were you talking to?” Dana asked when he’d slid his phone back into his pocket. She couldn’t decide if she was angry or touched that he wanted to help her.
Terry jerked and whirled around, his brown eyes smoldering. “A friend with connections in dark places. He set up the raid in Miami.”
Shit. Her emotions were running so high, she’d almost forgotten he’d been a part of that operation.
“I told you I’d help. I meant it.” He scrubbed his hands up and down his thighs, highlighting the sculpted muscles under the sleek tuxedo pants. “What are you doing back here? Thought you could take care of yourself?”
Oh, now she was most definitely angry. “I can. But I ran out on you once before, and I decided if I was going to do it again, the least I could do was give you my phone number.”
Terry’s brows shot up, and he pulled out his cell, unlocked it, and passed it to her. “Go for it. But only if you understand I’m callin’ you in three hours to make sure you got home okay. And only if you’re willin’ to give me your address so I can rent a car first thing in the mornin’ and come see you.”
She worried her lip between her teeth as she entered all of her contact information. Then added Laura and Micah’s full names in the note area.
“What will your friend do?” she asked when she was finished. Their fingers brushed, and she wanted to hold on. To step into his embrace like she’d wanted to three years ago. To spend another night under the stars and feel…safe.
That night, he’d been her rock. Strong, comforting, perfect. And then at Bagram, he’d had that ‘damaged male in need of help’ vibe all the romance novels talked about.
