Anna holds a hand up with a smile. “Hi, Jaime.”
“Anna, right?” I ask, just to make sure I remembered correctly.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me,” she says with a duck of her head. “Can I come in?”
Manners have me automatically moving back and ushering her in. I don’t know her well, but she’s a friend of Cage’s, so I assume she’s safe. I mean, she doesn’t look like she’d kidnap me or anything.
“Cute apartment,” she says as she looks around. “Cage said he was hoping you two would get a house, though. More space.”
A jolt of surprise hits me hard. “Excuse me?”
“Cage,” she replies, turning to smile at me. “We had dinner last night, and he was hoping if you two can get back on track, he could buy a house for you.”
I’m so flabbergasted that I don’t even know what to say. I have no clue if I’m even going to stay married to the guy, and here this woman is, who I hadn’t even thought was all that close to Cage, telling me he wants to buy us a house.
I shake my head, frowning. “I’m sorry. But you and Cage were talking about me?”
Anna nods with a bright smile. “Just last night.”
“I didn’t realize y’all were that close of friends,” I murmur, more to myself than her.
“We’re pretty tight,” Anna admits. “We actually work together at Jameson.”
My jaw drops, my eyes feeling like they’re bugging out of my head. “You work together?”
Another lie Cage told me. Or rather, something else he failed to tell me.
“Yes,” Anna replies hesitantly, perhaps picking up on the anger in my voice. “He didn’t tell you when he… um… told you about what he really did for a living?”
“We haven’t had much opportunity to talk since then,” I admit, then another thought strikes me. “And what about your gay friend, Malik, who was with you that night? Does he also work at Jameson?”
Anna tips her head back and laughs, her eyes sparkling. “That’s right. I totally forgot Malik told you he was gay, but that was because you were trying so hard to play matchmaker with us, and it was the only way he knew to get you to stop.”
“I’m really sorry about that,” I rush to assure her.
She waves her hand. “Actually, you weren’t far off the mark. And yes, he works at Jameson. We had feelings for each other, but we were too afraid to act on them. I think your trying to play matchmaker just made it more awkward for us since us being together was kind of forbidden.”
“Oh, God… I’m so sorry.”
Anna waves me off again. “Actually, it all ended well. We’re together now.”
“Oh, good,” I gush, genuinely happy for them. Then I frown. “Wait… what do you mean forbidden?”
Looking over at the couch, Anna asks, “Can I sit down?”
I slap my palm to my forehead. “Yes, where are my manners? Please sit. Do you want something to drink?”
Anna declines as she moves to the couch, instead, patting the cushion next to her as she settles onto it. “Come sit. I’ll tell you all about mine and Malik’s forbidden love story, and, in return, you’re going to listen to me lobby for Cage so that you’ll give him another chance.”
I could just throw her out at this point, as now it’s clear why she’s here. I should, as I have way too much to think on as it is.
Instead, Anna intrigues me. I’m taken in by her smile and cheer, which I haven’t felt a lot of this season. So I walk around the coffee table and sit beside her.
“Okay,” she says after taking a deep breath. “Let me tell you about Malik and me. It started with two tragedies… my husband getting killed while on a mission and Malik being taken prisoner.”
“Oh my God. I am so sorry,” I exclaim, bolting up. “Your company does work that can get you killed or taken prisoner?”
Anna winces, realizing she’s not making a great case for me to stay latched onto Cage. “It’s a rarity,” she assures me.
And even though I’m appalled at just how dangerous Cage’s job is, I’m immediately right back to her first words… her husband was killed. I reach over, taking her hand. “I’m so sorry about your husband.”
“Thanks,” she replies, giving me a squeeze. “I was pregnant at the time, too.”
Jesus. What has this woman been through? I lean toward her slightly, intensely interested in her tale. She tells me all about her husband dying in Syria and Malik being captured and held for months in a hole in the ground. She had her baby girl on her own, then went to work at Jameson. When Malik was rescued, they became friends, then they eventually became more. At the time I met them, they were just friends, but both were attracted to each other.
“It’s still pretty new,” she admits. “It was just over a week ago we really admitted our feelings for each other and decided to give it a go.”
I’m fascinated about this and have about a dozen follow-up questions, all of which Anna patiently answers. They’re more focused on what Jameson does, because other than that brief glimpse of Cage crashing through a window to save me, I really have no idea. Anna is a great source of information.
When I’ve exhausted my curiosities about Jameson, and note the dangers for further discussions if I ever do talk with Cage about it again, Anna gives me a pointed look. “You ready to talk about your husband now?”
The word “husband” sounds foreign. Yet, it causes somewhat of a yearning sensation within me. “I’m guessing you want me to give him another chance.”
“I want you to listen to him at a minimum,” she replies softly. “He deserves at least some time devoted to allowing him to explain himself.”
“He’s already explained why he lied,” I say defensively. “I’m clear on his reasons.”
“Then I suspect your reticence merely has to do with whether you trust his character now,” Anna concludes.
I admit to her the revelation I’d had not moments before she showed up that, for the most part, I think he genuinely made a stupid mistake and hadn’t meant to hurt me. “But what if I’m wrong? What if I give this a shot… and we’re not just talking about dating. We’re married, so that means I give marriage an honest try. And what if it doesn’t work out?”
“But what if it does?” she counters. “And if, for the most part, you think Cage is the decent man you fell in love with—minus the lie about his profession—then why wouldn’t you take that risk?”
“I know, I know, I know,” I say, bolting up from the couch in frustration. “I’ve had this conversation with myself a dozen times just today alone. I don’t know what’s holding me back.”
“Fear,” Anna says simply. “It’s something I understand well. Malik and I both had it. Love is scary, and we’re at risk of getting hurt. You’re acting like a human, Jaime. It’s not rocket science about why you’re wary.”
“You make it sound so straightforward and easy,” I mutter.
“Not at all. Love is hard. Trust is delicate. You and Cage have work to do. I’m merely saying to sit down and see if you have the courage to give it a shot.”
I don’t know what will happen to Cage and me, but I do know Anna is providing strong validation for what I was already starting to figure out myself. I need to at least talk this out with Cage.
And, if we can ultimately get past this weird place in our relationship, I have a distinct feeling Anna and I could become very good friends.
CHAPTER 28
Cage
Jaime invited me over, and I don’t know how to take it. I’ve been the one pursuing her this past week, and she’s been the one putting me off.
It’s Saturday evening, exactly one week since she was kidnapped. Three days since I saw her last on Christmas Eve.
Her invitation was on my phone—via text—when I woke up this morning, so I hadn’t even had time to do my usual outreach to her to ask if we could talk. Sometime during Friday night, she determined it was time without me prompting it.
I’m no
t sure if that bodes well.
If it’s bad, it’s most likely because she’s come to some sort of conclusion or decision on her own without giving me a chance to talk about it, which, in turn, will probably mean she wants to cut ties.
Best-case scenario—if it’s good—she’s decided to forgive me for my stupid decisions and wants to give us a shot.
I’d also accept just a willingness on her part to listen, so I arrive at her apartment at seven PM as requested, armed with several items to help sway her to my side. Even if her first words are, “It’s over,” I’m still going to insist she listen to what I have to say.
I knock on the door. When it opens, my breath catches. It’s usually what happens when I see her. Tonight her hair is in a braid that hangs over one shoulder, her face free of makeup. She has on a pair of leggings, a bulky sweater, and thick fuzzy socks. I want to snatch her up, cuddle with her on the couch, and watch a movie. That’s what she inspires at this moment.
A smile is there, slightly tentative, as she says, “Hey.”
“Hey,” I reply.
“Come on in,” she says, sweeping her arm to indicate the way.
I enter, shrugging out of my coat. The Christmas snow is all slush now, but it looks like more is coming in tomorrow. Fuck if it wouldn’t be the perfect time for my wife and me to make up and spend the day in bed together.
Jaime snags my coat from me to hang up in the little closet by the door, and I hold tightly to the folder in my hand. She eyeballs it, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Want anything to drink?” she asks after hanging up my coat.
“I’m good,” I say, even though I’m struck with a sudden case of nerves and could probably stand a shot or two of whiskey.
“Want to sit down?”
“Yeah… sure,” I reply, turning to the kitchen as she starts toward the couch. I had thought the kitchen table would be more comfortable for her, putting a little barrier up during our discussion.
I’m not sure what it says she’s choosing the comfort of the couch, but I quickly pivot and follow her.
She sits on one end, turning so her back is pressed into the armrest, and crosses her legs Indian-style.
I settle onto the opposite end, but angle her way. When I place the folder on my lap, her eyes drop to it before coming back up to meet mine. They’re filled with questions.
Opening the folder, I pull out the first document—three pages stapled in the top left center. I don’t hand it to her. Instead, I hold them loosely.
“These are annulment papers,” I say.
Jaime gasps, her eyes going wide.
Before she can say anything, I rush to explain. “If you want this marriage annulled, all you have to do is sign. I’ve thought about it a lot, and you and I started our marriage in the worst of ways—with a lie between us. I really listened to what you said the other night, and how it was a complete abuse of your trust. But worse than that was the fact I didn’t have enough trust in you to be honest, and I know that probably hurt you worse than anything. So please understand, I truly heard you, and I get how you’re feeling. Therefore, these are here to sign if you want to dissolve the marriage.”
Jaime’s face pales, her eyes flitting between the papers in my hand and my face. “You just… want to annul the marriage? Go our separate ways?”
“No,” I reply firmly. “If you sign those annulment papers, I would like to start over with you. Maybe not from the very beginning, but right before Vegas. It’s really when I was going to tell you… when I knew I was in love with you and knew I had to tell you the truth.”
“Oh,” she murmurs. It’s a word of understanding, but the best I can describe her expression and tone of voice is confused.
Leaning forward, I set the paperwork on the coffee table and tap the folder, which clearly holds more documents. “I have a few more things to show you.”
Her eyes are still glued to the annulment paperwork, though, and I wait for her to give me her attention. I half expect her to lunge for it and demand a pen. Instead, her eyes come back to mine. She clears her throat. “What do you have to show me?”
I don’t ask for an invitation, but merely slide over to the middle cushion until I’m closer. Her knee brushes the edge of my thigh, and I’m stunned at how good just that obscure touch feels.
Reaching inside the folder, I pull out a photograph and hand it to her. “That’s me when I graduated from BUD/S.”
“BUD/S?” she asks curiously.
“Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL,” I say with a smile. “It’s a twenty-four-week course.”
“Then, you became a SEAL when you finished?”
I laugh. “No, I had a lot more training to do after that. I also had to complete a twenty-six-week SEAL qualification training program.”
I lean over, using my finger to point out the guys in my class, most of who I am still in close contact with. I explain the grueling, hellish things we had to go through to become SEALs, and I let her ask questions.
Reaching back into the folder, I pull out a newspaper article and hand it to her. “This is an article in my hometown paper from when I was awarded the Bronze Star.”
Jaime’s eyes widen. She takes the article, gaze roving over the words. It doesn’t provide details and I certainly can’t, but I explain what I can, “It’s for acts of heroism above the call of duty. A few others and I helped repel some anti-Iraqi forces from a field surgical hospital.”
She looks up at me, eyes filled with what I might think is pride. “I figured out you were brave when you came crashing through that window last week.”
Laughing, I pull out a few more things I grabbed to show her about my time in the military. Mostly photographs, but a few more certificates of commendation.
“You were really good at being a SEAL,” she murmurs.
“I like to think so,” I reply.
Once more, I dive back into the folder and pull out a folded-up piece of paper. I give it to her. “This is from my mother.”
Jaime had been about to grab it from me, but she snatches her hand back, cheeks turning pink. “Your mother? She knows about us?”
I nod solemnly. “I had to tell her. Had to tell her that I was in the fight of my life, trying to win you back.”
Pushing the paper toward her, I explain, “She wanted to call you, but I thought it best to wait until we see if we could straighten ourselves out. But she just can’t stay out of things, so she sent me this email and asked me to give it to you.”
Jaime hesitantly takes it from me, unfolds it delicately as if it were a bomb ready to go off. I have to suppress a laugh because once she reads it, she’ll see there’s nothing to fear from my sweet mother.
I watch as her eyes move slowly across the lines, knowing exactly what it says because I read it a few times. It’s basically my mom imploring Jaime to give me another chance. She then goes on and on and on about what a great guy I am. She even tells her a story about how I rescued a trapped kitten in a drainage ditch when I was nine, and says they don’t make men as fine as me.
At the end, she apologizes for my stupidity in lying to her and assures Jaime that’s all it was.
Stupidity.
That I don’t have a deceitful bone in my body, which really goes a little overboard. I mean, my mom is highly biased in my favor, but, in the end, I can tell Jaime is charmed by her words.
She finishes and folds the paper up, placing it on her lap rather than handing it back. I take that as a good sign.
“I have something else,” I say, then pull another piece of paper from the folder. It’s also an email I printed off, and I hesitate before handing it over. “That’s from your mom.”
Jaime’s body jerks in surprise. “My mom?”
It is with no shame whatsoever that I say, “I enlisted your mom to my cause. I told her I was coming to talk to you tonight, and I asked if there was any advice she could give me. She said she’d email me something and well… that’s what it said.”
/>
In Jaime’s hand is her mom’s email to me, asking me for patience and perseverance when it came to pursuing her daughter. But the real reason I want Jaime to read it is that, at the end, she says something I hope Jaime will take to heart.
“I want my daughter to be happy, Cage, and if I didn’t think she could have that with you, I’d be telling her to run in the opposite direction. But I truly believe you’re the one for her, and that you and Jaime will have a long, loving, and beautiful life together. So if she decides to be a knucklehead, please don’t give up. She’s worth fighting for, and I’m sure one day she’s going to look back on this and be glad of her decision to stick with you because you’re worth it just as much.”
That got me a bit choked up when I read it, and I can see Jaime’s expression soften when she gets to the last part. Her gaze rises to meet mine, and her eyes are a little shiny.
“I have one last thing,” I say, diving back into the folder. It’s a single piece of paper, and I pass it to her.
She opens it, starting to read. It’s addressed to Kynan McGrath at Jameson Force Security.
Dear Kynan,
It is with great regret that I must tender my resignation with your company. While I have enjoyed my career with you and my fellow teammates, I am embarking on a new path with a woman whom I love very much. She’s simply more important than any career, so I know you will understand where I’m coming from.
Sincerely,
Cage R. Murdock
Jaime’s head snaps up, her eyes narrowing. “You quit your job? Why would you do that?”
“I haven’t quit,” I assure her, nodding to the letter. “But if my job is not something you can handle me doing—because it can be dangerous and requires me to travel at times—I will absolutely quit and find something more acceptable to you. Hell, I could even apply at a few car dealerships.”
I give her a dashing grin, but she doesn’t smile back.
“You are absolutely not quitting your job,” she snaps, ripping the letter in half, then quarters, then eighths before tossing it on the coffee table.
“Okay,” I reply hesitantly. I’m not sure what that means.
Code Name: Rook Page 19
