The train station in Oban consisted of a single building with a ticket window, a small waiting room, and two platforms, one accessed by an underground walkway. Dean could tell something was wrong by the long line and commotion at the window. While waiting for Annie to finish up in the restroom, he asked the first person who walked by and learned the bad news.
“What’s wrong?” Annie asked after he’d told her they had a problem.
“There’s an issue with the signal lights. Apparently it isn’t uncommon. The train to Glasgow tonight has been canceled. We’ll have to catch the one first thing in the morning.”
“Oh,” she sighed with relief. “For a minute I thought they’d followed us.”
He didn’t think so. But the delay could give them time to catch up. There weren’t many ways off the island, and once they figured out they were no longer there...
“We’ll have to find someplace to spend the night,” he said. “The guy I talked to said there is plenty of accommodations in town.”
They’d walked about fifteen minutes away from the picturesque harbor town where the ferry had docked to get to the station and would have to retrace their steps. Oban was a good-sized town in the Highlands and a popular destinationfor tourists embarking on cruises around the islands. Under different circumstances he wouldn’t mind a night’s stay—it was the biggest town he’d been in for months—but he wanted this over with as soon as possible.
She’d fucking guessed that he was a SEAL. He couldn’t believe she’d figured it out. She was too curious and too smart for her own good. Or maybe, more accurately, for his own good. He couldn’t risk her seeing another one of those damned articles and putting two and two together. She’d gotten too close as it was.
He’d gotten too close. He had to put an end to this, and one more night wasn’t going to make it any easier.
“...one of the things I love—”
She couldn’t be falling in love with him. They’d known each other a week. Admittedly part of that week had been pretty intense, high-adrenaline, get-to-know-someone-fast bonding time, but they wouldn’t seem so perfect together when it was all over. Their differences would start to grate and eventually draw them apart.
She clearly had issues with the military—understandably—and he’d seen too much to have a very high tolerance for dewy-eyed idealists. Besides, he liked his guns. And hunting. For meat.
He could hear Donovan giving him shit about that for years. A vegetarian? An activist? A Democrat (aka “the Party of Santa Claus” as Dean referred to it) with Mr. Bootstraps and “everyone should keep their eyes on their own paper and not worry about what everyone else has”?
That should be all the discouragement Dean needed. So why was he pretty sure that he wouldn’t give a shit? That he could hear the endless razzing and not mind?
Because she was worth it. She was incredible. And even if a bleeding heart led her down the wrong path every now and then, he respected her passion and drive to change things. It was the other side of what he did.
Crap.
But it was all theoretical. Even if he wasn’t in hiding, a relationship with her would mean giving up the team. Hewasn’t ready to do that. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to do that.
With the station emptying quickly, Dean escorted her out of the building behind a couple who from their backpacks, poles, and boots he assumed must have been trekking on the islands. He wanted to stick with the crowd. He was pretty sure they hadn’t been followed, but he wasn’t about to relax his guard.
“I’m sorry,” she said after they’d been walking for a few minutes. “I know you’re furious with me, but I didn’t mean any harm.” When he didn’t say anything, she grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face her. “Can you blame me for being curious? We are sleeping together, for God’s sake, and you’ve barely told me anything about you.” She stopped and even before he heard the emotion in her voice, he could see the tears in her eyes. “I don’t even know your name.”
Dean felt about as big as one of those annoying biting midges. He didn’t want to hurt her, and yet that was exactly what he was doing. But what choice did he have? He couldn’t tell her what she wanted to know.
But if she started crying, he didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do. Just seeing the glimmer of tears in her eyes was twisting him up inside something fierce. It was making his chest pound in an odd way, and making him antsy and uncomfortable—as if he were walking across hot coals. Hell, he’d rather walk across hot coals than see her cry.
He did the only thing he could do. He pulled her into his arms. “Aw, shit, Annie, I’m sorry. I know you don’t understand, but you’ll just have to trust me that I don’t have a choice. If I could tell you, I would.”
As he was wearing the backpack, she’d slid her arms around his waist. He still had the gun tucked in his jeans at the small of his back for safekeeping and easy access. Her cheek had been resting on his chest—which felt pretty damned amazing—but she tilted it back to look up at him. “If you told me, you’d have to kill me?”
He smiled, and lifted his hand to stroke a finger down her cheek. “Something like that.” But he quickly sobered. “But it’s serious, Annie. I know you are curious, but it’s dangerous—and not just to me. I’m asking you to stop. To put whatever it is you think you’ve learned aside and forget it.”
Forget me.
She knew what he was asking. “I’ll try, but I’m not sure I can.”
Unfortunately that made two of them.
She looked so gorgeous staring up at him with all those emotions he didn’t want to see in her eyes, he would have kissed her.
If he hadn’t sensed the movement behind him.
•••
