Mission to Protect

by Terri Reed

  He came up behind her, awareness seared her clean through. His hands rested lightly on her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze.

  “Felicity, it’s not that I don’t want to protect you. I do, but I can’t.”

  She didn’t understand. He wasn’t making sense. He’d done a wonderful job so far. He and Dakota.

  She turned around and stared into Westley’s handsome face. There was distress in his eyes.

  Was this because of her uncle? Her heart hurt to think that Westley still believed he’d somehow failed by letting her uncle get so close. “This mess with my uncle was not your fault.” She implored him to understand. “You have to accept that. There was no way for you or anyone to suspect Uncle Patrick killed my father and was the one trying to kill me.”

  A tender smile played at the corner of his mouth. “I do know that. I just wish I’d caught him sooner so you wouldn’t have had to go through all of this.”

  “I’m okay and he’s in custody. He won’t hurt me again, not from prison.”

  A pang of sadness for her mom thrummed through Felicity. The conversations Felicity and her mother had had over the past few hours had been tense and tearful, but better than any conversations they’d had before. Felicity felt they’d turned a corner in their relationship. Her mom had asked if Felicity would come to San Francisco for Christmas this year. She’d agreed.

  “Boyd Sullivan is still out there.” Westley stepped back, putting distance between them. “You’re still a target. You need protection 24/7. I can’t provide that for you anymore.”

  She stepped toward him. “Why? Why can’t you?”

  He spread his hands wide, as if encompassing the obviousness of it all. “We will have to work together again one day. I’m not going to risk your career because I can’t control my feelings for you.”

  Her heart skipped a little bit. He did care for her. A smile spread through her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. “You do have feelings for me,” she nearly whispered.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Of course I do, Felicity,” he huffed. “But if I stay close to you...”

  Her mouth went dry. “Westley.”

  He took another step back. “I will not act on my feelings. There’s too much at stake. Your career. My career.”

  Her heart beat hard in her throat. She moved a step closer. “What if I told you I have feelings for you, too?”

  He held up a hand as if to ward her off. “No, no. We can’t go down that road.”

  “But what if I want to?” She made up the distance with two steps. He stepped back again. This dance was taking them across the room toward the door. She frowned. “What are you afraid of, Westley?”

  “I can never be the man you need.” The words were harsh, as if torn from him.

  Absorbing his statement, she shook her head, denying his claim. “Of course you are. Don’t you understand? I’m in love with you, Westley.”

  The color drained from his face. “You can’t be.”

  “But I am and you’re going have to face the fact that you love me, too.” She prayed her words were true as she stepped closer and grasped the sleeve of his jacket. The cotton fabric was soft and crumbled easily beneath her fingers. The man wearing it was the polar opposite. “Do you deny loving me?”

  His gaze fixated on her hand then rose to meet hers. There was so much torment in his eyes that she hurt for him. And she hurt for herself, because she knew he would never own up to his feelings for her. She just didn’t understand why.

  He gently pried her fingers loose and held her hands in his. “Felicity, I care for you more than I’ve ever cared for anyone else.”

  That gave her a spurt of hope.

  “But the United States Air Force is our lives. Our careers. I will not allow anything to derail your career.”

  “That’s not your choice to make.”

  He let go of her hand and took two steps back this time. His hand grasped onto the doorknob. “I’ll talk to Lieutenant General Hall. I’ll have Caleb and maybe Ethan and Linc, or whoever else I can get from Security Forces to rotate in.”

  Her fingers curled into her palms. He wasn’t giving her a chance to choose for herself.

  “I’m not saying I won’t be there for you, Felicity. I will, but I just can’t do it around-the-clock. It’s too painful.”

  He opened the door and gave her one last longing look that broke her heart in two. “I’m sorry.”

  Motioning to Dakota, he said, “Stay. Guard.” Then Westley disappeared out the door.

  Felicity staggered to the desk and sank onto the chair. What just happened? He didn’t give them a chance. He didn’t give her a chance to tell him that she’d... That she’d what? What she would do for them?

  She looked around the photo lab, taking in the pictures hanging on the walls that she’d shot over the last week, and realized with certainty she enjoyed this job and would gladly stay in it, if that meant she and Westley could be together.

  But obviously he didn’t want her to be with him. Or maybe he did, but he was too scared. Either way, the outcome was the same. He’d walked away from her. From them.

  A little voice inside her challenged, What are you going to do about it, Felicity?

  She rose and walked to the window to stare out at the late April morning enveloping Canyon Air Force Base in a warm glow. She contemplated the question.

  What could she do? She’d told him she loved him and he still left. Did she chase after him like some crazy stalker?

  No. He didn’t want her.

  She would just have to learn to live without him.

  FOURTEEN

  Westley stared into the depths of his root-beer bottle. Around him conversation and laughter abounded through Canyon Air Force Base’s popular diner. He sat at the counter because the thought of a table for one didn’t appeal.

  He ached from head to toe. Not from physical exertion, though he’d run the dogs and handlers hard the last two days in between searching for more of the missing dogs. No, he hurt because he missed Felicity and Dakota.

  Lieutenant General Hall had agreed to let Westley rotate out of Felicity’s detail and leave Dakota in place for her security.

  Knowing Dakota was keeping watch over Felicity gave Westley some comfort, but he missed her laughter and the joy on her face as she captured images with her camera. And while he hated for her to experience it, he also missed the sorrow that at times darkened her eyes when she didn’t think he noticed.

  He noticed everything about her. And loved everything about her.

  I’m in love with you, Westley.

  Her words were sweet torment.

  But it was for the best that he kept a distance between them, for both of their sakes. And if he kept reminding himself of that fact, at some point it had to become true, right?

  A hand slapped him on the back of the shoulder. “Drowning your sorrows there, Westley?”

  Westley slanted a glance sidewise to see Special Agent Ian Steffen sliding onto the stool next to him. He sat up straight. “No, sir.” He winced. “I mean, yes, sir.”

  Ian waved off the formality. “Relax. We’re just two guys sitting at a counter having a soda.” Ian gave the amber bottle nestled in Westley’s hand a once-over. “Root beer. Okay. I’ll take one of those,” he told the waitress who came over. She nodded, grabbed a bottle from refrigerator, popped off the top and plunked it down on the counter in front of Ian before walking away.

  Westley sank back into his dejected mode. Funny how easy it was. He’d thought he’d long ago shaken off feeling sorry for himself, but without Felicity in his life, he felt lost and adrift. The future he’d once seen so clearly had dissolved into mist. He didn’t know what to do now. It all seemed so bleak.

  “Cyberintelligence cracked the pass code on the folder in Graham’s tablet,�
�� Ian told him.

  Westley gave the man his attention. “And?”

  “As we thought, it contained all of Graham’s case notes on the hit-and-run, including incriminating evidence against his brother-in-law,” Ian replied. “Not that we need the evidence with all that transpired.”

  “But at least we know for sure,” Westley said. He peeled at the label of the root beer bottle. He was glad for Felicity’s sake that she had closure on her father’s death.

  After a beat of silence, Ian asked, “What ails you?”

  Westley shrugged. “It’s been a long week.” Actually a long few days. Days without Felicity in his life.

  “You want to tell me why you asked to be rotated off Staff Sergeant Monroe’s protection detail?”

  Should he confess to the OSI agent that he’d grown fond...no, fond wasn’t the right word. Grown to love his charge?

  If he did, there would be no going back.

  “Personal reasons,” he finally said. He wouldn’t put either of their careers, especially Felicity’s, in jeopardy.

  Ian gave him a dubious look. “Right. I think you’ve fallen in love with the pretty staff sergeant and are afraid to do anything about it.”

  Westley choked on a sip of root beer. He cleared his throat and took probably one of the biggest gambles of his career by looking the agent in the eye. “Excuse me?”

  Ian grinned. “Man, it’s obvious.” His dark eyes actually twinkled with certainty. Westley couldn’t decide if the roiling in his stomach came from relief or terror. “I remember that feeling from long ago when I first met my late wife.”

  “Do you regret falling in love?” Westley asked. The thought of losing Felicity terrified him. But so did living without her. He couldn’t win.

  It was Ian’s turn to stare into the abyss of his root-beer bottle. “I learned along the way that regret only breeds discontentment. You do what you do, with the most information you have at the time, and sometimes it works great.” He lifted a muscular shoulder. “Sometimes not so much, but at least you did something.” He stared Westley in the eyes. “Running away isn’t doing something. It’s chickening out. Running away is not what we do in the US Air Force.”

  Westley straightened. “I’m not running away.”

  “Looks that way to me.”

  “I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize her career. She wants to be a dog trainer. We can’t be in the same chain of command.”

  Ian arched an eyebrow. “You could move over to Security Forces and be a dog handler. You could leave the service and go into civilian law enforcement.”

  Westley had thought of those same options. “I don’t know what would be the right decision.” He blew out a breath and pushed back against the counter. “Frankly, I don’t feel worthy of her love.”

  Ian shook his head. “I never pegged you as insecure. Get over yourself. Does she love you?”

  A tremble coursed through Westley. “She said she did.”

  The man scoffed. “What are you sitting here for? That’s where you start,” Ian insisted. “All the rest of the decisions will work themselves out.”

  Could it be that simple? “I wish her father was here so I can ask for her hand, because he would either give me his blessing or tell me to get lost.”

  “Still sounds vaguely to me like you’re looking for another excuse to bolt. But that’s just me.” Ian shrugged.

  Westley shook his head. “Agent Steffen, don’t go easy on me, or anything—”

  “Okay, okay.” Ian laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Just saying...” He trailed off, then eyed Westley speculatively. “She has a mother, you know.”

  “Yes, yes, she does.”

  “Colleen Monroe is a tough and shrewd woman. If you can obtain her blessing then you’re set.”

  Westley swigged the last of his root beer and contemplated everything the agent had said. He did need to get over himself. Felicity loved him despite his family history. He’d left his parents’ failings behind when he joined the air force.

  Of the options available to him, he realized it didn’t matter what he did. The only option he couldn’t live with was not having Felicity in his life. “You’re right, Agent Steffen,” he said with determination. “I need to go after what I want.”

  He wanted Felicity in his life as surely as she was in his heart.

  Ian tipped his root beer bottle toward Westley’s. Westley clinked his bottle against Ian’s.

  “Here’s to going after what you want,” the agent said.

  “Aim high—” Westley began the USAF motto.

  “Fly, fight, win,” Ian said, finishing his sentence.

  Sliding off the bar stool, Westley said, “I’d better go make a phone call.”

  With a nod of thanks, Westley headed out the door with purpose in his stride.

  * * *

  Felicity arrived home three nights later, escorted by one of the base MPs and with Dakota trotting alongside her. The dog had been her constant companion even as the detail changed every eight hours. Westley had been true to his word that she would be protected around-the-clock. She was grateful. She really was, but she missed him. Missed the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he was amused. Missed the way he made her feel safe and cherished.

  Shoulders slumped, she was headed up the walkway toward her front door when Heidi stepped out of the house next door and called her name.

  Needing a friend right now, Felicity hesitated. Many people on base believed the reporter to be the anonymous blogger leaking information to the public. Could Felicity trust her?

  Only one way to find out. Felicity did an about-face and moved past the guard. Dakota stayed right at her heels. She met Heidi at the shared property line.

  “Hi, Heidi. How are you tonight?” Felicity asked, careful to keep the despair she clinging to her from tingeing her voice.

  “Better than you, I take it,” Heidi said. “You look like somebody kicked your dog.” Heidi smiled at Dakota. “But he looks okay.”

  That’s kind of how Felicity felt. Except Dakota was right here, healthy and strong and willing to protect her even when Westley wasn’t willing.

  Her hands tangled in Dakota’s fur. She dredged up a smile for Heidi. “I’m okay. Still trying to process everything.”

  “I’m so sorry about your uncle,” Heidi said.

  “Thanks. Me, too.”

  Heidi glanced toward the security guard. “I thought Westley was detailed to your protection.”

  “He needed to do some things at the training center,” Felicity said. The ache in her chest intensified. “He’ll rotate back in at some point.” At least she hoped so. Then they could talk and resolve some of their issues. Or not. It had been three days since he walked out of her office in the photo lab. Three days with strangers following her around base, sleeping on her couch, watching out for Boyd Sullivan. Three days with her wishing Westley was there beside her. Only the presence of Dakota brought her any peace.

  Depression and exhaustion set in. “I need to go get some rest,” she told Heidi. “We have new recruits coming in tomorrow and I want to catch them as they get off the bus.”

  Heidi smiled gently. “Sure, no problem. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Thanks.” Felicity hurried into the house, the young guard following her. “Make yourself at home,” she told the MP.

  She went to the refrigerator and grabbed herself a ginger ale to settle her upset stomach. Then she and Dakota headed upstairs. He was the only one she let witness her tears.

  * * *

  “Master Sergeant James, what can I do for you?” The clipped female voice on the other end of the phone line had Westley straightening his spine and squaring his shoulders. He stared out the window of his small studio apartment in base housing. From this vantage point he could see the parade gr
ounds, where several vintage planes were on display, a sight he never tired of.

  Taking a breath and gathering his courage, he said, “I am calling to ask for your permission to marry your daughter.”

  Colleen Monroe’s voice dipped. “Excuse me? You want to marry Felicity?”

  Though they were miles apart and he couldn’t see her, he recognized the strength in her voice. This was a woman used to intimidating others.

  “Yes, ma’am, I do. I’m in love with your daughter.”

  After a heartbeat of silence, she asked, “How well do you know my daughter?”

  “I know her very well. We are stationed together at Canyon Air Force Base.”

  “I owe you a debt of gratitude, Master Sergeant James,” the woman said, her tone soft with emotion. “Felicity told me how you saved her life on several occasions. You have my permission to ask her to marry you.” There was a smile in her voice.

  Tension drained from his shoulders. “Thank you.”

  Now to convince Felicity to give him another chance.

  * * *

  Felicity hurried down the hall toward Lieutenant General Hall’s office. She’d been summoned a few minutes ago from the photo lab, where she was busy uploading today’s photos to the FBI database. Thus far she hadn’t captured any images of Boyd Sullivan.

  She knocked on the lieutenant general’s door and heard a male voice say “Enter.”

  Pushing open the door, she stepped inside and froze. Lieutenant General Hall sat behind his desk, but it was the sight of Westley standing in front of the desk that made her pulse race. She drank up the sight of him. He wore his semiformal dress uniform, the dark navy coat looking sharp over his broad shoulders and tapered waist. His creased navy pants and black shoes made him appear taller. Formidable.

  The moment his tender gaze met hers, her mouth dried like the desert.

  “Come all the way in, Staff Sergeant,” Lieutenant General Hall instructed.

  Buying herself time to process the situation, she closed the door, adjusted her uniform coat and patted her braided hair before turning back around and walking slowly toward the two men.