Page 55 of Wrecked With You

“I didn’t think you deserved cheese.”

“Would have to be a pretty serious crime to deprive someone of cheese. Maybe something that rises to the level of, oh, skipping out on a guy without a backward glance and leaving orders with the resort staff that she doesn’t want to see him or be on the same plane off the island with him. Considering the paramedics found me with a dead resort guest, your instructions didn’t exactly foster a calm and soothing manner in the way the resort staff treated me.”

“And yet here you are.”

He shrugged. That was true enough. “You bolted,” he said flatly. “You didn’t say a word to me. You just bolted.”

“And say what? Gee, it was fun fucking you. Too bad you really believed that I was working with that slimy sack of shit.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t you dare deny it,” she snapped. “I saw your face. That slithering prick implied that I’d slept with him—flat out stated I worked for his boss—and you weren’t sure. For a moment there, you actually believed him.”

“Bullshit.”

She stared him down. He congratulated himself on not cowering. She had one hell of an intimidating stare. “Go on.”

“I didn’t react because I believed him. Maybe I considered it only to dismiss it, and maybe that showed on my face. But you don’t get to judge me on that. I’m allowed to hear an accusation and weigh it and then decide whether it’s true based on the evidence or my gut or goddamn tarot cards. And who the hell are you to talk? I saw your face when I told you I wanted to be partners, remember? Wasn’t exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for.”

“Tony—”

He held up a hand to cut her off, but he’d heard the hint of an apology in her voice and knew that he’d made his point. “I don’t think this is about me. I think it’s about us.”

She cocked her head, wary, but said nothing.

“I think in that moment you realized the same thing I did.”

She swallowed. “What’s that?”

“That you’re not the kind of person who can get tied down. That we felt too much and moved too fast.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. Everything he was saying was true—he hated it—but it was true. “I thought I’d go after The Serpent once we left the island. I truly believed that I’d take him out and then, poof, I’d have a happy normal life with a steady paycheck, a permanent address, and a woman by my side.”

She shifted her weight, but she never stopped looking at him.

“But that’s not happening. And what I realized on that island is that I was a fool to ever think it would. I think you realized the same thing. You don’t really believe I’m dirty, but you do regret the things we said. So do I.” That last part was technically true, but only because he couldn’t be with her no matter how he felt. And the real truth was that he felt too goddamn much.

“So you’re claiming island fever? The lust of the tropics?”

He heard the edge in her voice and forced himself not to wince. Instead, he walked through the entryway and took a seat on her sofa. When she didn’t tell him to get the hell out, he figured that was progress. “I told you how I felt about you, and I meant it.” He swallowed as he met her eyes. “This isn’t about what I feel. It’s about who I am.”

She settled into the opposite end of the sofa. “And who’s that?”

“Someone who can’t add a relationship into the mix. Or a steady job.” He cupped his hands behind his neck, trying to ease some of the tension. “I’m not signing on to SSA after all.”

Her forehead creased. “Because of me? That’s insane. I’m a big girl. And you’re not an idiot. Stark Security’s a great place for you to land, just like you said. You’ve made it your mission to kill The Serpent, and once he was dead, you intended to plant some roots. That’s what you told me. And now he’s dead. So you’re welcome.”

He grimaced. “I would have liked to have taken that shot, but under the circumstances, I can’t really complain.”

“And yet you are.”

He shook his head. “No. If he weren’t dead we’d be having a different conversation.”

“Would we?”

What could he say? That if he didn’t still have a mission, he’d grab onto her shoulders and tell her that if she wasn’t scared of facing a stone-cold killer then she shouldn’t be scared of being with him. Because that’s what this was about, bottom line. He was certain of it. She’d see a reaction on his face—and why the hell wouldn’t he react?—and she’d bolted. Not because she was butt-hurt that a flicker of doubt might enter his mind. Hell, she was better trained than him, and they both knew damn well the first rule in this business was to question everything. To examine everything. To look at the evidence, but not to discount your gut.

And Emma’s gut was scared.

But none of that was the point right now. He wasn’t staying and they weren’t together. So all he said was, “My father’s alive, Emma. And until I alter that particular status quo, none of the rest of it matters. Not you, not me, and not Stark Security. I made this my mission a long time ago, and I’m damn sure not going to stop now.”