He had to listen and to learn what might help. A rampage would only be self-serving. He'd do it later on his own time and then rain fire from the sky.
His chest felt tight. "Honey—"
"Don't honey, baby, or doll me, please. I don't need it or want it."
"All He tugged at his collar. "Are they alive?"
"Nope."
"Good."
She nodded. "Agreed."
"All of your walls make sense." He hugged her. Not with the intention of crushing her breasts against him, or wrapping her body onto his, but with the sole desire to console her, wipe away all the hurt and pain.
Tessa laughed again, this time, into his chest. She was still very much pressed into his embrace. "My walls are nothing. I became a psychologist to figure out how to fix myself. Helping everyone else is just a bonus."
"You're hard on yourself."
"More like I am truthful. My parents did what they did. They're a significant part of who I am."
He shook his head. "No. People are a sum of their parts. An awful experience doesn't define you."
"For you, okay. But I don't know about me."
He pulled her from his chest, holding her in outstretched arms. "That's where you're wrong."
"I have a degree that says I might know more about the subject than you."
He squeezed her shoulders. "That's where the textbooks and teachers led you astray. You're amazing and strong."
"I'm not—"
"Everything about you is shock-and-awe. Do you know what that means?"
"Not in this sense." She bit her lip.
"It means you are an overwhelmingly powerful force."
"Even if that was true, what does one thing have to do with the other?"
He almost grinned, the answer was so easy. "Tell me how you made it out of your childhood home to a military base? Tell me how you've made it through the last days with me as our enemy searched for you."
"But—"
"You wouldn't have made it if you didn't house a fight deep within your gut. And to top it off, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever set eyes on. "
Tears slid down the perfect slope of her cheeks. Her lips trembled, and she grew prettier with each passing second.
"I wasn't asking for a pep talk."
"That wasn't one. It was a simple truth."
She looked away. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
"We don't have to." Where did he go from here? "Forget about it and tell me anything you want to. Tell me a joke, or your favorite food, or if you have a pet."
"A reporter asked a sniper what he felt after he took a kill shot."
"What are you talking about?"
A slip of a smile crossed her face. "Well, it's not a joke. But it'll get a reaction. A reporter asked a sniper what he felt after he took a kill shot. The sniper looked at the reporter and said?"
"I don't know. He said… I don't know."
"Recoil. He felt recoil." She laughed.
His chest relaxed when she laughed. "My, my, Tessa. A little gun humor. I like it."
"Strawberries. Kiwi. Sushi."
"What?"
"Is it your turn to lose your mind? You asked what my favorite foods are. Strawberries. Kiwi. Sushi. Spicy tuna rolls. Extra spicy, cucumber, and avocado. And I want a dog."
He chuckled. "A dog?"
"Yes." She nodded. "After this hair-raising experience, I think I've earned a puppy."
"Indeed you have. What else are you going to tell me about you?"
"After Edith took Anna for the afternoon, I was dying to spend more time with you and talk without the threat of danger."
"Dying?" he teased. "That's a bit dramatic."
She laughed. The sound danced in his ears. "You're awful."
"You like it," he whispered into her ear. Tessa pushed up on her tiptoes to nuzzle against him.
"Yeah, I do."
"If that's the case, I'm about five seconds away from dragging you to my couch. I need to wrap my arms around you when we talk."
She dropped down from her toes. "That long? I'm disappointed in you."
After that smarty pants remark, he lifted her into his arms and bounded for the living room in record time. She laughed, and he then eased her onto the couch. "That was less than five seconds."
But their laughter fell away. They were close. Their breathing had picked up the pace, and the few inches that separated them engulfed him in heat. He'd nearly draped himself over her body, and they were toeing a line he needed to back away from. One move closer, and he wouldn't be able to trust himself to keep his lips away.
His throat constricted. An invisible hand crushed the air from his lungs. He needed to kiss her until he could think straight. McKay ran a hand into her silky hair. Tessa angled her chin up, and he fell for her a hundred times.
Their lips brushed, and his soul sighed. The sweet taste of her kiss engulfed him, infiltrating every sense and left a permanent mark.
Her eyelashes fluttered as he pulled away, and he memorized the delicate pink hue on her cheeks that he wanted to remember forever.
"I've needed that my whole life, Tessa. And I had no idea."
She didn't respond, and McKay didn't care, but he let her curl against his chest until her head nuzzled under the crook of his chin. He wanted her to feel this euphoric glow. It had to be like floating, with his chest tingling in a way he didn't know it could. At least not until Tessa landed in his life- a superb bombardment of feminine beauty and strength.
He brushed the hair from her face. She sighed against his chest, and his heart swelled.
Did she understand how he felt? He hoped so. It'd be nice if one of them understood.
He wasn't ready to leave the couch or leave this woman, but he didn't know what he needed to share with her. This connection had happened far too fast to declare some sort of message or claim, but he couldn't move away.
A little voice in his head, or maybe his heart, told him to stay still. To live in this moment without fighting where his path had led him. To her. McKay gathered Tessa into his arms and prayed. Not for either of them or to understand. But for this all-consuming contentment to have a purpose.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Even as Tessa drowned in comfortable exhaustion in Drake's arms on the couch, her mind re-awakened. Anxiety began its wicked game of taunting her. She didn't know how long it'd been since he laid her on the couch. Lazy seconds lounged into hushed minutes. The living room darkened with beautiful twilight-lit hues. Purple shadows cascaded from the picture window. Deep oranges tempered in the setting sky. The knowing air loomed heavy with the emotional pull of their connection.
She'd kissed him. He'd held her. Then his words. I've needed this my whole life. That danced in her mind and seared into her memory. What more could she want of him? Something. Nothing. Everything. Who knew? Her head pounded as interest and uncertainty clashed as she tried to understand, yet still ignore the gravity of her emotions.
She hurt for wanting a real love with a man that knew nothing but danger and instability. Falling for Drake was absurd. But wasn't it equally as silly to fight what God had led them to?
Absurdity was ignoring the contentment and security he offered with a simple touch or languid hold.
Absurdity was avoiding the glimmer of optimism, the beautiful shine of a possibility she was scared to consider. Because that meant she wasn't destined to be alone and that, no matter how often she'd worried or second-guessed herself, life's path was unfolding at the pace it intended, no matter how often she wished to change the speed or direction.
Men like Drake McKay shouldn't give her the slightest slip of interest. But this man, no matter what her original perception of him, seemed to hold her future, loaded with potential.
Why wasn't that crazy? Why couldn't she accept that this man was more than a possibility of anything she'd ever hoped for, even if she didn't feel worthy.
His possessive hold kept her tight to his chest, and his con
tent breaths airily contradicted how protectively he held her close. Tessa decided simply to exist in their moment. To stay still without worries and fears. She wouldn't hope for the future or hang onto the past. She'd just breathe alongside him in the now.
"Did you fall asleep," he asked quietly.
"No."
He brushed her hair with the tips of his fingers like she was his to cherish. "You're quiet."
"Maybe."
"Talk to me anything," he said. "Tell me something I should know about you."
"Like what?"
Drake lifted a shoulder. "It doesn't matter."
Tessa thought of all the confessions she could make, then decided to keep it simple. "I feel safe. In your arms like this."
He gave her a squeeze. "Good. You should."
"And," she continued. "I don't mean from what's been chasing us. I mean from what I've ignored for the better part of my life."
"Good," he offered without question.
She chuckled quietly at his very sweet, but concise, no-questions-asked agreements.
"If you need to talk," he said. "I'll listen. I don't know if you need or want advice, or if there's something more I should've known to have said already. But I can tell you one thing for sure."
She wasn't sure she wanted to know. "What's that?"
"I'm no angel—"
"You are!"
He shook his head. "No, I'm not. I fight evil and what could only be considered the devil. That's what I do. I have no problem with retribution. If anyone hurts you again, Tessa, you need to know there's nothing I won't do to make the problem right."
She nodded. He was an angel to her, no matter who he danced with. She wasn't sure if that made them stand on the wrong side of right, but she would stand by his side because he'd stand by hers.
Drake traced the scar under her chin. "This mark is a call to arms. This makes me angry and hateful."
"Don't fill your heart with hate," she said. "It does no one any good."
"Your scars... You make me want to seek vengeance." He paused as though trying to read her mind—or maybe understand his. "But I didn't need to see them in order to know that you've changed my world."
She had fought the urge to cry like she avoided his closeness. Again, tears begged for release. Her eyes burned. Her throat was raw. But, in his arms, with his words, it was finally okay to cry.
Tessa didn't move. She didn't sniff or sob. But cleansing tears escaped.
"Are you crying?"
No point in lying. She smiled, feeling silly. "Um, yes."
Drake repositioned to get a better look at her. His jaw flexed, and he locked his eyes with hers. Such intensity. Her stomach flipped, sending a rush from her head to her toes.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"
"No. No. Believe it or not, the tears are welcome." She snorted. Very attractive.
He laughed at her oh-so feminine laugh. "If you say so, Dr. Freud. Grinning and crying aren't a great mix."
"They are right now."
"And why is that?"
"Because, Drake, it seems like you've changed my world changed."
That admission was an understatement if there ever had been one. Tessa wondered if this handsome man and a puppy might be in in her future. None of this made sense. Nothing was practical. But here she was, a veteran gunfight spectator and kidnapping survivor. Liberated with simple words from a warrior.
Liberated. She played with the idea, turning the word over in her head. Liberated worked, and was the truth. That was an accomplishment, and, because of it, she earned anything she wanted. A fluffy dog with an appropriate name like Killer or Slayer. A handsome man who wanted nothing more than to keep her safe by his side. Life was marvelous.
"What do you think about dinner?" he asked.
"I'm not hungry right now."
"No, I mean, do you want to go to dinner tomorrow night?"
"Are you asking me out on a date?" Even as the shadows faded over the room, she saw him blush.
"Yes, doll, a date complete with candlelight and flowers."
"Um." He surprised her when she least expected it, though that was the exact definition of surprise. A suit and dress shirt on his solid body might be her greatest weakness. But, her heart sunk. He'd been so romantic, and she was going to ruin it. "I have nothing to wear except for your mom's sweatpants and shirt. Not exactly my best look for our first date."
He snickered. "We can remedy that hiccup."
"What are you going to do?" She laughed. "Be my white knight fashionista?"
"I'm your whatever-it-takes-to-keep-you-happy-ista."
Whatever it took? She should define that so he wasn't left grasping at assumptions in the proverbial dark.
"I can run out tomorrow morning and pick something out," she said.
"No sweater sets. Or yoga pants."
She could hear the smile in his voice. "I don't always wear that. I just didn't plan on more than one outfit on my excursion to Lexington."
"You need something that makes you feel like a queen."
She laughed. "Any requests?"
"How about something red? Pink?"
"Drake!" Her cheeks heated. "I can dress myself, thank you very much."
"Just playing. Are you all done with your smiling tears?"
Her nerves tinged. Was all this to make her stop crying? "You don't have to take me to dinner to make sure I'm not crying on your watch."
Drake clucked. "Oh, no. No you don't."
"What?"
"No rebuilding those walls."
"I'm not—"
"Tessa, I'm taking you out because I think you'd like a quiet dinner and flowers, and I like you."
Her lips parted, but she couldn't speak.
"It's that simple," he offered.
Tessa shook her head. "It is never that simple."
Drake rolled his eyes with a deep laugh. "Don't you shrinks know how this stuff works? All that 'making you happy, makes me happy' mumbo-jumbo?"
"I'm not a shrink," she pointed out, guarding her heart.
"But you are missing the point. On purpose, I'd assume."
She could buy new clothes... But she didn't have anything! "I don't have my credit cards or cash. I need to—"
"Money is in the drawer in the kitchen, next to the surveillance camera you were eyeing. Cars are in the garage. Take your pick. Keys are on a pegboard next to the door."
"I'm not taking your money."
"You think I care about coin after dodging bullets with you?" He wrinkled his nose. "But if you'd rather just go to dinner in my mom's sweats, cool by me, doll. I don't care so long as you're there."
"Uh." What to say to that?
"Tell me when and where you want to go, and I'll make sure I'm with you, or I can have one of my teammates from Safehouse escort you as a protective detail."
"You're leaving?" she asked.
He lifted a shoulder. "I'll have to swing by headquarters, but after that, we'll do whatever you want."
Whatever she wanted? Staying right here was top on her list. Tessa leaned close and cuddled against his broad shoulder. "Thank you."
"No problem." He shifted closer. "Soon as we get your problems squared away, everything will be easier."
"Do you still have the cipher?" she asked.
Drake nodded. "I do. It's safe."
"Why do you still have it?"
"I'm only going to give it to my boss. He wasn't there, and I didn't stick around."
"Do you really think I'll be safe after you transfer it to your boss?"
He pursed his lips. "In theory."
"My, that's reassuring. How about in reality?"
He didn't answer. That was several versions of concerning.
"Drake?" Worst-case scenarios would begin forming if he didn't answer soon. Heck, in the back of her mind, they'd already started.
"In reality, the guys tailing you will be angry. They'll want to do something about it. We'll make sure they engage Safehouse, not you, an
d we'll all come to an understanding."
"I don't know what that means."
"It means we work out an agreement. You won't be worth pursuing, because the cost will be too high."
"The cost?"
"Their resources. Their men. They're all the way in South America. Once they know they can't get that list, anything they do will be out of retaliation. But they're businessmen. Everything has a price. A cost of what their time and interest are worth. Eventually, they move on. It's dirty dollars and cents."
"So more people will get hurt. You can get hurt." Her voice sharpened.
"We've already had that conversation. I won't get hurt."
"Don't act invincible! You can get hurt. You can die." She wanted to forget the nightmare they survived and live it up in a fairy tale world. But no, he wanted to go play cops and robbers again.
"Honey, this is what I do. It didn't change because Anna came into my life, and it's not going to change because I'm spending time with you. I'm sorry." His fingers drew down her arm, around her elbow to her wrist. "I know this is complicated, but I promise I'll keep you safe, and I'll always come home."
The room was dark, with the setting sun long gone into the night. Moonlight bathed them, casting a milky glow across the light carpet.
"When this is over, when you don't have to protect me, do you still want to see me?" She draped her arm over her face, hiding from his answer. If he said no, the moon would drop from the cloudless sky, leaving it sad and inky.
"Of course I do. I'm not making up the things I say for your benefit," he said, rubbing her arm.
She gave a goofy grin. "You're making it up for yours?"
He shook his head, coiling his arms around her. "Let me rephrase. Everything I've done is for your benefit and I haven't lied to you. We have something special. So let's play it out one day at a time and see if it works for us. Maybe you'll hate me on our date. Maybe you're just using me for the cuddles."
She laughed. "Maybe I am."
"Well, it wouldn't be the worst thing that's happened to me."
His phone rang from the nightstand. He unwound himself from her and answered. A few short words later, he was back by her side.
The SEAL's Promise (Safehouse Security) Page 12
