If Delaney Shapiro thought that after they landed she’d walk out of his life as quickly as she’d waltzed back into it, she was in for a fight.
* * *
“No. Absolutely not. That is the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.” Delaney put her hands on her hips, searched the curbside pickup area of the airport, and then stared back at Mac.
He looked at her patiently, like she was a spoiled child having a hissy fit and who, given another moment, might calm down on her own. All of which was significantly closer to the truth than she wanted to admit. Her foot throbbed, and the ankle boot the hospital had given her to wear weighed a ton. Her ribs still hurt, and she was bone tired. She wanted food, a shower, and a bed, and quite frankly didn’t care which order they came in.
She looked out again to where cars were entering the pickup area, jostling with one another to pull over while avoiding cars trying to pull out. It was stupid to search for Cabe when she had no idea what kind of vehicle he’d even be in. The beat-up old Chevy in which he’d driven away from Brock’s funeral with Six and Mac in the back had been on its last legs even then. There was no way it was still on the road.
She hadn’t spoken to any of her brother’s friends in so many years, and crashing into them at this stage in her life was almost too painful to bear. Her heart could barely hold all the memories of their adventures, and the shell she’d built around that time in her life was far more fragile than she’d ever want to admit.
“Coming home with me is a great idea,” Mac said. “Lochlan’s place has a pool. You can rest up. Rehab a little.”
Delaney shook her head. “I don’t need to go to Lochlan’s to rest up and rehab. I can do that anywhere.” Allowing Mac to talk her into waiting for a ride from Cabe suddenly seemed like a really bad idea. “You know, I’m going to go back over there and grab a cab,” she said, tipping her chin in the direction of the queue of people waiting in line.
Mac folded his arms across his chest. “One. You can barely stand on that foot, and that is an exceptionally long queue with only a handful of cabs. Two. You don’t have any cash right now. Three. Stop being ridiculous and just wait for Cabe.”
He was right, and it irritated her. As did the way his T-shirt stretched across his biceps. She was still raw from waking up in his arms on the plane. At first she’d savored it, and then she’d remembered.
“I’ll come with you to your place.”
She shook her head. “Not an option.”
Mac ran his hand across his stubble. “Give me one good reason why not.”
“Because I don’t have a place. My lease was up before I left and included a steep hike, so I moved my stuff into Mom’s storage locker.” Unable to face what had been their family home in Encinitas and its memories of her husband and son, her mom had sold it and moved to the city.
“Not sure your mom is ready to see me yet?” Mac said with a grimace.
“I’m not ready to see you yet. Why can’t you get that?”
The corner of Mac’s mouth twitched, the beginning of a smile, but she wasn’t going to let it affect her, even though it gave her butterflies—contradictory little fuckers.
“Do you have a place lined up? If you do, you could call your landlord and see if you can get the keys early.” Before Delaney had left, she’d couch-surfed between acquaintances’ homes, but she couldn’t imagine any of those friends taking in a longer-term, semi-invalid houseguest.
She could possibly call her ex, Stephen, who was a screenwriter like her father had been, worked odd hours, and lived off coffee. But it wouldn’t be fair to him. Despite his wanting to stay friends, they’d barely spoken since she’d broken it off with him eight months ago after realizing that they’d been on a high-speed path to marriage. Nothing had been wrong with Stephen. He’d done nothing wrong. She’d left him because he wasn’t Mac. No, she couldn’t stay with him. He would read too much into her request.
Delaney shook her head to clear it. The painkillers had made her foggy, and the first thing she’d do once she was settled, preferably flat in a bed, would be to get rid of them. But what bed, and where? She couldn’t think of any other options. Her career wasn’t conducive to girlfriends and brunches, and she’d grown up in a world of men. Her wit often bordered on acidic and her lack of interest in the latest OPI nail colors ruled her out of the seen-to-be-seen set of San Diego. Plus, her go-to conversations were human rights violations in North Korea and the lack of understanding between the terms “refugee” and “migrant,” neither of which went down particularly well at dinner parties.
And she’d barely been out of the surf long enough when she was younger to make time for friends. She hadn’t set foot in the water since the day Brock died because it had felt too much like a final goodbye.
“I spend so much time traveling,” she finally said to Mac, “that it isn’t worth paying rent for a place.”
“So, where the hell were you thinking of going?” Mac said, his voice filled with exasperation. She kept a poker face but smiled inside. Mac hadn’t lost his patience easily when they were younger and she imagined that his military training had only refined his self-control, so seeing even the tiniest hint of frustration felt like a moral victory.
“Does Six still live in Encinitas?” she asked. Out of her brother’s friends, aside from Mac she’d been closest to Six, who had always treated her like his own kid sister.
Mac shook his head as if she was missing something unbelievably obvious. “He does. With his girlfriend, Louisa. Who just moved in with him.” He folded his arms across his chest, making his biceps pop. Asshole.
A black truck pulled up alongside them and Cabe stepped down from the cab. “Bit of a drastic way to get back in touch with us all, Delaney. Next time, just text,” he said, pulling her into a gentle hug. “How’ve you been? We’ve missed you.”
God, she’d missed these men too. Even through her anger, their absence had left a gaping hole in her life and her heart. It was part of the reason she’d gone clear across the country to study in New York. Anything to get away from all the reminders.
“I’ve been better.” Gently, she hugged him. The guy had always been athletic, but now he felt like solid muscle. “You filled out!”
Cabe laughed, and Mac frowned at her for a moment before shaking his head and stepping to the truck to throw his pack into the back.
“Not sure you can do the kind of stuff we do and not bulk up a little,” he said with a shrug. But she knew Cabe well. He’d always been humble and committed. She’d been focused on the worst of that day for so long that she hadn’t remembered all the good about them.
Cabe opened the cab door and was about to help her inside when Mac swept her into his arms and boosted her onto the seat.
Cabe shook his head at Mac. “You always were a territorial asshole.”
Mac slammed the door shut.
“So where are we going, Delaney?” Cabe asked once they were all in the truck, Mac thankfully riding shotgun instead of sitting next to her.
“My mom’s,” she said at the same time Mac said, “My place.”
Cabe looked between the two of them. “This is new,” he said. “You two used to be so in synch it made my teeth hurt.”
He’d always had a cute grin, but right now she wanted to punch him in the teeth. “My mom’s,” she repeated, and rattled off the address.
As Cabe pulled out of the airport, Delaney tried to ignore Mac’s pointed stare as well as her instincts to reach out and smooth the crinkly lines between his eyes like she always used to. He’d aged well. Too well.
“Austin,” a Blake Shelton song that she liked came on the radio. Guilt tripped through her. She’d gotten out of San Diego as quickly as she could. Only unlike the girl in the song, she’d never called and there wouldn’t be a happy ending. In thirty minutes, she’d be out of Mac’s life again for good.
She settled back into the seat. For all she was driven—hardwired, people had even called her—to chase the story,
she was happy to be home. For the first time in nearly two weeks, she took a restful breath and let the rhythm of the truck lull her to sleep.
* * *
“Cabe! This isn’t what I … What the hell? I’m flagging a cab.”
Mac looked over at Cabe and grinned. The mild-mannered Delaney he’d once known was now a whirlwind, and he had to admit he liked it. He watched as she tugged on her ponytail and looked up at his apartment unit. She shook her head before giving them both the evil eye.
“I said my mom’s. Not here,” she shouted.
Cabe slapped Mac on the back. “Good luck with that,” he said as Delaney got out and hobbled slowly toward the Gaslamp Quarter and Sixth Street. “Don’t remember her being this stubborn,” he added as he climbed back into the truck.
When they were younger and Mac would ask her where she’d like to go for dinner or how she wanted to spend the afternoon, the answer had always been the same because she trusted him to pick something they’d enjoy. “I’m easy. Why don’t you choose?”
Mac kind of liked the spine she’d developed. He had a feeling this Delaney would tell him exactly what she’d like to do. He let her hobble a few more paces before he jogged to her side.
“Don’t be a stranger, Delaney,” Cabe shouted through the open window as he passed them.
Delaney growled in response.
“Look,” Mac said. “Don’t make this hard, Buttons. It’s getting late. We’re tired. I’m offering you a safe place where you don’t need to deal with anything or anyone you don’t want to. Why don’t you at least stay tonight and see how you feel in the morning? I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you need, but just quit being so stubborn.”
Delaney stopped and looked at him. “That,” she said, pointing her finger toward the retreating taillights of Cabe’s truck, “was a hijack.”
He shrugged. No point in correcting her when she was right. Cabe had agreed with him that it was in Delaney’s best interests. “Maybe it was, but you’re here now. So just come inside.”
She looked out toward the busy main street where taxis were driving by and then looked down at the ground. “Fine.”
When she stomped by as best she could with that boot on her foot, he bit back a smile. Step one of his plan was to simply get her inside his home. He led them into the lobby and pressed the elevator button that would take them to his floor. Everything else would fall into place once they’d had some food and rest.
Mac cracked the door to the apartment open and was hit with the smell of something delicious cooking. His mouth watered as he let Delaney walk in ahead of him.
Of course the guys would want to see Delaney. Even if it was getting late and all he wanted after being cooped up in a plane for the best part of a day was a long hot shower. Preferably with Delaney, but clearly that wasn’t going to happen. She’d been way chattier and friendlier with Cabe in the few minutes she’d been awake on the drive than she’d been with him the entire time he’d spent with her since the hospital room in Germany. It was as though she’d forgiven them for being there the day Brock died, but not him. Cabe, though, had already been in the water when Brock had fallen, as had Six. It hurt that she singled him out so completely, even though he knew he deserved it.
“Delaney!” Six walked toward her and scooped her off the ground for a hug. She whimpered in pain, and he quickly put her down.
“Shit,” Six said. “Dumb move. But it’s been too long, Shapiro.”
Delaney rubbed her hand along her bicep. “I’m beginning to see that,” she said.
“Yeah, well. I’m gonna head out because I have to pick Lou up from her lab on the way home. But let’s get together when you’ve had a chance to get better and get over jet lag.” When Six kissed her on the cheek, she didn’t flinch the way she did whenever Mac came anywhere near her.
Delaney headed to the main balcony.
Through the open doors, pop music roared from the stadium—some band Mac had never heard. By the sound of it, he was quite grateful that he hadn’t.
“Veal in marsala sauce and roasted vegetables,” Six said to him. “They’re just keeping warm in there, so eat them sooner rather than later. Oh, and Louisa went shopping to fill the fridge. There’s a whole bunch of stuff you need, but feel free to throw out the tofu. It’s like eating soft cement. I put some white wine in the fridge and a red on the counter.”
“Thanks, brother,” he said. Mac walked Six toward the door. “It’s been quite the week. Ready for Syria?”
“Yeah. Planning’s done. We have all permits. Gave the guys out there a heads-up that we are going to be flying in. Some of the team needed immunization updates. So, all good. Wheels up Thursday. Then in theatre for ten days.”
Theatre had always struck Mac as an odd choice of word to describe their ops location.
“I’ll be in on Monday. Just going to take the weekend to get Delaney set up.” He looked over to where she leaned over the balcony, her face to the breeze blowing off the bay.
“You doing okay?” Six asked.
There was no point pretending that he didn’t know what Six meant. “I’m still in the game, but it ain’t pretty,” he said, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Thanks for bringing dinner.”
Six studied Mac for a second. “Yeah. Well. I get why you need to take care of her, but look out for yourself too.”
After Six left, Mac wandered into the kitchen. Lochlan’s apartment was growing on him, but he’d never be able to afford it. As soon as his brother came back from San Francisco permanently, he’d need to find a place of his own, but for tonight he was going to pretend the apartment was his, and Delaney was his, and everything in his life was exactly where he wanted it at age thirty-three instead of in a mess.
He opened the bottle of red and poured two large glasses. He checked out her ass as he walked out onto the balcony, knowing there was probably a circle of hell he could be sent to for it. It was cool outside, but she didn’t seem to care.
Mac handed her a glass. “Six left us stocked. Thought you might like some of this with dinner.”
Delaney reached for the wine and took a sip. “Thanks.”
“You know who’s playing?” he asked.
Delaney shook her head but didn’t say anything further.
Mac sighed. It never used to be this way between them. For the first time since they’d been reunited, the thought crossed his mind that they might never return to how they once were. “I’ll go finish up making dinner.”
As he served the last of the vegetables, she stepped into the apartment and slid the door closed. He grabbed two forks and placed them on the other side of the breakfast bar.
“I’m tired,” Delaney said, looking down at the food and not at him. “I think I’m going to eat in my room, if you’ll show me where I can crash.”
Carefully, he reached across and took her hand. It had always seemed incredibly small when he held her that way. “Don’t,” he said, his words getting stuck in his throat. “Don’t run. That’s not you, Delaney.”
“You don’t know who I am anymore, Mac.” She looked up at him, and the hurt in her eyes stopped his heart.
“You’re right. I don’t. I know who you were though. And the girl I knew back then had more courage than the entire football team.”
He held his breath, uncertain of whether he’d misjudged her. Perhaps she had changed in ways that weren’t for the better. He’d probably acquired habits she wouldn’t love either.
When the scrape of the bar stools along the tiled floor echoed through the apartment, his heart started to beat again. Quickly, he finished the rest of the preparation. Napkins, water, some bread and olive oil.
They sat in silence as they devoured their food, the long flight having left them both hungry and at odds.
“I’m sorry,” Delaney said quietly as she reached for a piece of bread and began to rip it into pieces. “I don’t know which way is up right now, Mac.”
Without overthinking the act
ion, he gently spun her stool and stood between her knees. “I know it’s not easy, coming back from something like you have.” There was no value to telling her how he’d once been on the brink of capture, being beaten by three insurgents, when Cabe had quite literally saved his life. Yet with all his training, he’d be a fool to pretend that he hadn’t had jitters the night before his next mission. By morning, though, they’d been gone, buried under years of training.
He pulled her into his arms and buried his disappointment when she didn’t wrap her arms around him. Instead, he pressed his lips to the top of her head, savoring the feel of her against him.
At the very moment he’d been about to release her, she slid her hand around his waist and dropped it into the back pocket of his jeans. It was something she’d always done when they walked along side by side.
Mac swallowed deeply and clenched his jaw to stop deeper emotions from bubbling to the surface. She’d have to make the decision to let go of him. If this was the last time she was going to let him hold her, it was going to have to be long enough to last him for his lifetime.
“Why did it have to happen?” she said quietly.
He didn’t have to ask to know which it she was talking about. It always came down to Brock. He felt the same. If only he’d been able to swim faster or hold his breath for longer, been a better friend. Guilt ate away at his gut, leaving him feeling raw.
“Can I talk to you? About that day?” It was time to break his promise to Brock. Brock wouldn’t want his secret to come between the two of them. He wouldn’t want to see Delaney hurting like this after all the years, and they’d been good enough friends that he was sure Brock wouldn’t want this for him either.
Delaney shook her head. “I don’t think I can.” She pulled her hand from his pocket. “Not today. It’s too much. Look, I really am tired. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said as she stood.
He watched her walk to the bedrooms, not caring which one she decided to sleep in. It didn’t matter because he wouldn’t be there with her.
Final Siege Page 4
