“Canadian.” Even up to ten years ago—during his early days in pararescue—he would have happily flirted with these ladies, maybe even tried to take one back to his hotel room.
He’d been jaded, not celibate. He’d just learned that when a woman wanted him, it wasn’t about him at all. Not really. It was all abouther. About using him to feel liked and wanted and special because a football player or model or special operator had chosen her. She wanted him to feed her ego, give her bragging rights. Or grant her a favor. Maybe an introduction to his agent or to one of his more famous friends.
It was probably too fine a distinction to matter to most people, and while he hadn’t been a monk over the years, he hadn’t allowed himself to be emotionally vulnerable with a woman in a long, long time.
When he’d finally tried with Lauren, it had bit him on the ass. Hard.
And now Emma was back in his life…
“From British Columbia?” the blonde asked hopefully, cutting into his thoughts with an accent that hinted at extensive time in North America.
He shook his head. “Toronto.” If anyone asked for more details beyond Dundas Square, CN Tower, or the St. Lawrence Market, he was screwed.
“Ah. I studied in Vancouver for a year.”
“That explains your excellent English,” he said, giving her his most benign smile.
“Grazie.” She beamed and gestured to her group as they all moved forward in the line. “You want to join us?”
“Oh, I appreciate the invite, but I’m here with my girlfriend.”
She stuck out her lower lip and gave a little dejected hum. “Enjoy your trip.”
“You too.”
She turned away to join her friends at the order window.
A couple minutes later, he used his rudimentary German to order two Calanda lagers, a large plate of fries, and a long-sleeved T-shirt with the WAGNER logo on the breast pocket. After paying cash, he carried their order along a gravel path, past people gathered in small knots on the park’s grassy center, to the tiny cafe table partially hidden beneath the branches of a large tree where Emma sat. It was a good vantage point for keeping watch.
Lucerne’s lights sparkled on the lake, and the water lapped softly at the shoreline, a soothing backdrop to the melody of voices scattered across the park. Under other circumstances, he’d be enjoying himself.
He set down the beer and fries and pulled the new black shirt over his T-shirt. Hopefully, the extra layer helped him blend in a little better. If nothing else, it chased away the chill.
Sitting across from Emma, he took a swig of his drink and popped a fry in his mouth as he scanned the revelers. If only the two of them were here for fun…
“God, that used to make me so jealous,” she said in a low voice.
He met her gaze over the table. “What did?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Just…those women in line hitting on you. I hated how often that happened when we were together.”
“Me too.” What kind of women flirted with a guy while he was out with his girlfriend? Turned out, plenty. Including the one he’d ended up sleeping with after finding Emma with Trey, so…
He pushed away the fries, his appetite suddenly gone.
Across the table from Emma, Jason slumped in his chair, all his energy flickering out. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, but I can’t control how other people react to me,” he said.
“No, I know.”Shit. Why had she brought it up? She’d been insecure about him with other women, but he’d only had eyes for her until he thought she’d cheated.
She placed her hand on his. Big mistake. His skin was warm and magnetic, and not hers to enjoy. She pulled away, mentally kicking herself. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m just tired and on edge.”
Jason’s expression softened a little. “It’s fine. You didn’t know it’s a sore spot.”
She should have. She knew the coaches’ jibes at team events about how “one way or another, most of you have probably seen Jason in his underwear,” and calling him and Jesse Tua “Beauty and The Beast” had hurt. Not only had the remarks come from his mentors, but they were made publicly and often, to earn a laugh at Jason’s expense.
“Truce?” she asked.
He nodded, and the tension in his shoulders eased as he tugged the basket of fries closer again.
