Call to Engage

by Tawny Weber

  “There’s always a choice.”

  Nic tilted his head to the side, giving her a long, unblinking stare. It only took a few seconds before she stiffened, her chin lifting as she pressed her lips together so they were almost as tight as the set of her shoulders.

  “Do you honestly think that? That life’s made up of simple choices? A or B? Here or there?” He pursed his lips as he considered that. “I guess that makes it easier to assign blame.”

  “Check you out, Mr. Marriage Expert. Did you take a course, Nic? Or is that something they teach in leadership training now?”

  “You know me. I’m multitalented.” His lips twitched at her smart mouth.

  “And are you here to use those talents to meddle in one of your men’s relationships?”

  “Nope. Any relationship conversations are between you and Rembrandt.”

  “But Elijah isn’t here,” she reminded him. “Besides, you opened this dialogue. That means you have something to say on the subject. So say it.”

  Nic debated. He did have something he’d like to say. A few somethings he would have liked to have shared multiple times over the years. But he’d learned long ago to separate himself from his emotions. Feelings were about as useful as wishes. Good enough for kids and special occasions, but in the general day to day, they were a waste of time.

  Almost as futile as stepping into the middle of a couple’s marital battle. First off, he was too well trained to question the inevitableness of collateral damage. And second, a piece of paper might say differently but as far as Nic was concerned, Ava and Elijah were still just that. A married couple.

  He didn’t know how big a role he—or rather Poseidon—had played in their split. He couldn’t afford to care. But he could—and would—do what he could now to give them a chance to repair that damage. And he had no problem using Operation Fuck Up to do so.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  HER EYES FOCUSED on her finger as she used it to trace lines through the condensation on her glass for a few moments.

  “So? Where is Elijah? And what do you want from me?”

  Atta girl. “Rembrandt is doing recon and gathering supplies for a mission.” Nic glanced at his watch, calculating how much longer until his men returned. “He’ll be leaving in two hours for an undisclosed location until such time as he’s recalled to base.”

  “Two...” The word seemed to stick in her throat. Ava gave him a wide-eyed look of dismay. “He’s leaving?”

  “He is.” Seeing everything he wanted in her expression, Nic stepped into a role he’d never before considered. One that could be terrifyingly close to being termed matchmaker. “You’ll have about an hour to say your goodbyes, to settle any unfinished business between the two of you.”

  “Or?” She rolled her eyes at Nic’s raised brow. “You left that ‘or’ hanging there like a flag. What’s the rest?”

  “Or you can go with him.”

  Ava’s mouth dropped open. It took her a few tries to pull it shut, and even then she shook her head as if she’d heard him wrong. “I’m sorry. Did you say I could go with him? On a mission?” She frowned. “We might not be friends, but I thought we were okay, you and I. Why are you messing with me, Nic?”

  “You know, it’s a funny thing about friendship. If it’s real, the ties are elastic. They stretch and bend, but still bind. It might be four years since we were friendly, but I still consider us friends.”

  Ava didn’t question Nic’s assertion that he considered her a friend. She might not know why he’d think that, but she knew the man was brutally honest.

  “You’d not only allow me to go on this mission, but you actually want me to take part in it?” she finally said, studying Nic’s face carefully. Not that she expected his expression to give anything away. But a girl could always hope. “Why?”

  “Rembrandt will be transporting a civilian to a remote location, offering protection and safeguarding until the threat is neutralized. In doing so, he’ll have to provide food, care and entertainment since said civilian is a seven-year-old boy.” He paused a moment, letting that sink in. And sink it did, as Ava’s gut churned and her breath knotted in her chest.

  “I figure Rembrandt’s got the transport, protection and safeguarding covered. Meals, if nobody is picky, and entertainment is probably in his realm. But the care part? Especially on top of everything else?” Savino shrugged. “It’d serve him well to have a partner. Someone who’d have his back.”

  “And you think I’d be better than another SEAL?”

  “Please.” Savino laughed. “We’re talking about a kid here. Rembrandt’s the best we’ve got in that regard.”

  She’d taken a few hits to the chest in her quest for her black belt, but none had the impact of those words to her heart.

  “Wouldn’t Diego be better? He’s going to be the boy’s stepfather.”

  “Torres is assigned elsewhere, along with Harper, the boy’s mother.”

  Why would they split up mother and son? Ava’s heart plummeted. “Are they in danger?”

  “Possibly.” Savino grimaced and corrected that to, “Probably.”

  “Why would you include civilians in this? Especially if it’d put at least one of them in probable danger?”

  “Harper would be in danger regardless.” Nic hesitated, looking as if he was weighing each syllable carefully before he said a word. “She and her son, to a lesser extent, have been targeted by a certain individual. Poseidon is focused on finding this threat and eliminating it. To do that, Torres and Harper will take point on this particular mission. While they do, a team will be assigned to protect the boy.”

  “You’re setting a trap,” Ava realized. With Harper as bait. “And this threat? Whatever it is, if it shows up? How am I supposed to be of help there?”

  Why was she even asking? Ava rubbed her thumb along her temple, wondering what craziness had taken over that she’d even pretend she was going along with this wild idea.

  “There’ll be a detail assigned to the perimeter. Rembrandt will have plenty of defensive cover.”

  Aha. Ava laughed. “So I’m a babysitting assistant?”

  “No, of course not.” Savino patted her hand. “You’re a better cook. That puts you one up on Rembrandt, making him the assistant and you the expert.”

  Ava shook her head. “You’re crazy,” she decided, getting to her feet. It was all she could do not to jump up and run from the room, but she managed to keep her movements easy and smooth. “The last thing Elijah or I need is to be confined together in some remote location. And definitely not with a child.”

  Oh, God. Her heart ached. Not with a child.

  “Before you say no, think about it.”

  His words stopped her in the doorway. Ava didn’t turn around, but she did shoot a questioning look over her shoulder.

  “You and Elijah, you’re rebuilding something here. Right now the two of you are on equal ground.”

  Surprised, Ava turned. Arms crossed protectively over her chest—over her weeping heart—she waited to see what else he had to say.

  “You’ve got issues to deal with—this is your chance. You want to know if this thing between you has any hope. This gives you a shot at finding out.” Nic leaned back, resting the chair on its back legs and looking for all the world like a man who didn’t care in the slightest. Except for the expression in his eyes. Those dark depths spoke of endless compassion. “You walk now, you let Elijah walk? You’re finished. Are you ready for that?”

  Was she? Ava bit her lip to keep from screaming. She didn’t know.

  She hadn’t been looking for this. Hadn’t planned for this. She’d been happily living the second phase of her life while ignoring the existence of the first. It made for a much tidier life, keeping everything on her terms. Her greatest decision had revolved aroun
d the partnership with Mack. And really, no matter which way that turned out, the impact on her way of life would have been negligible. Just the way she liked it.

  Then Elijah had stormed back into her world. His presence made it impossible for her to remain in her comfort zone, ignoring the past. The soul-deep, gnawing need she had for him made it impossible for her to set parameters around their relationship. Just as it had been impossible to ignore her desperate need for him.

  Oh, she’d tried.

  With the determination of a woman stubbornly vowing to lose weight while keeping her daily fried-food fix, she’d tried.

  But as easily as deep-fried grease layered on the pounds, time with Elijah peeled away her safety layers, revealing the depths of the emotions beneath.

  God, she wanted him. More, she still loved him.

  She didn’t know if there was any way they could overcome their past, if there was any way to heal the misery they’d both endured. She wasn’t sure she could face the demands she knew Nic was putting in front of her.

  But if she’d learned nothing else over the last week and a half, it was that she’d never stopped loving the man she’d married.

  She didn’t know if that was enough.

  But maybe she owed it to herself—and to him—to find out.

  Still, she couldn’t make any promises.

  “I have to check my schedule, see if Mack can cover me. Look into a few things,” she said with a wave of her hand to indicate whatever those random things were that could offer her an out if she wanted it. “I’ll let you know.”

  “Good enough.” Nic nodded. “You have two hours.”

  Ava’s laugh was a helpless puff of air. “Look at you, Mr. Generosity with the time clock.”

  “First thing you should have learned about the military, Cupcake. We live by the clock.”

  “No. The first thing I learned was that nothing matters more than orders. Not family, not life, not loss.” With that and the weight of the past dragging behind her, Ava left the room.

  He’d answered so many questions. And left her more confused than ever.

  * * *

  ELIJAH HAD WALKED in on the aftermath of bombings that had been more cheerful and welcoming.

  His gaze shot between his commander and Ava. Nic’s expression, as always, was closed. And Ava’s showed only concern—about what, he couldn’t guess.

  “Where’s Nathan?”

  “Spending some time with his mom before they split.” Elijah angled toward the hallway to watch Ava storm out the front door.

  “What’d you say to Ava?” he asked as soon as he heard the door close. “Why does she look so devastated?”

  “Not devastated. Perplexed, confused and maybe a little frustrated.”

  “Nic?”

  “I gave her the option to join you on this mission.”

  “You did what?” Elijah dropped into the chair Ava had vacated so he could sort through his own feelings.

  “You’re good with kids, Rembrandt, but let’s face it—you don’t have that mom vibe. Nathan’s been through enough already. He’ll be out of his element, away from the people he knows. It’d probably go easier on him if he has a little estrogen along to ease the stress.”

  Elijah cocked one brow.

  “So you did this for Nathan’s sake? So he doesn’t suffer from testosterone overexposure?”

  “An overexposure to testosterone has been known to damage boys his age,” Nic pointed out seriously.

  “Right. And it’ll make him go blind, too.” Elijah snorted and shook his head. “Dude, what’s your game?”

  “No game. It’s going to be hard enough on the boy already. First there was his kidnapping a few months ago. Now he’s going to be separated from his mother and the man he looks on as his father. And we’re sending them into what he’s likely to think of as a dangerous mission.”

  “Bait in a trap to lure out a treasonous SOB who doesn’t blink at murder with a talent for lies and a proven desire to kidnap his own son?” Elijah put on his pretend-I’m-considering-it face, then rolled his eyes. “Be real. You’re sending Diego and Harper to San Francisco, less than an hour away from the most likely place Ramsey is hiding. You’ve made sure that intel has leaked, not only through official channels but, holy crap, Nic, you put it on social media that they’re taking a romantic pre-honeymoon trip. If you take Ramsey’s penchant for violence and his obsession with Harper and Nathan, then throw in his hatred for Diego? It’s more than dangerous.”

  “Exactly.”

  Fingers tapping on the table, Elijah considered his commander’s face. There was something Savino wasn’t telling him. There usually was, since 90 percent of what the guy did was confidential. But in this case, Elijah had the feeling that it was more. It was personal. Otherwise, he wouldn’t ask.

  “What’s the rest?”

  “You mean other than my little ploy to send you and your ex-wife off on a babysitting trip that will either permanently end your relationship or bring you back together?”

  “Yeah, other than that.”

  “Why do you think there’s anything else?”

  “You’d send me on this mission blind?”

  “I could.” Looking tired, or rather letting the tired show through the cracks, Savino rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Lansky’s tossing red flags.”

  “What the fuck?” His chair slammed down with a clatter as Elijah shifted forward before he lost his balance. “No way.”

  “His actions lately have been erratic, his movements furtive.”

  “You think he’s Ramsey’s partner?”

  “I think someone is tapping Ramsey’s funds, funneling the money into various offshore accounts and getting ready for a final sweep before they disappear for good.” After a heartbeat, he added, “Whoever is doing this has serious tech skills. Serious enough to bypass the Navy’s safeguards, to work around the taps we’ve set to watch the accounts.”

  “A lot of people have serious tech skills, including Ramsey himself.” Elijah fought the sick feeling in his gut at Savino’s words. He’d hated thinking his teammates were looking sideways at him, questioning his loyalty. He hated it just as much that they might be sliding those same looks at someone else on the team. “Nothing you’ve said points a finger at Lansky.”

  Savino acknowledged that with a slight inclination of his head. “He’s turned secretive, taken to only using his electronics in private instead of setting up in the O Club with his laptop for gameplay. He’s been gone more than he’s been on base. His entire demeanor has gone through a change since Santa Barbara.” Nic stared out the window at the cloudless sky. “We all know he’s got a drinking problem. He’s had one for years, and it’s steadily worsened. But it’s changed lately.”

  “He’s drinking even more?” Elijah blew out a heavy breath, trying to comprehend how the man could drink more than MacGyver managed to and actually function.

  “No. He’s quit drinking. As far as observers can tell, he’s quit altogether.”

  “Quit.” Shit. Elijah rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his eyes, attempting to ease the sudden pressure throbbing there.

  Alcohol and the military went together like peanut butter and jelly. Elijah couldn’t remember a time that his friend hadn’t drank heavily. Still...

  “Everyone’s dealt with life choices, life changes since the implosion of Operation Hammerhead,” he pointed out. “Myself included.”

  “True. But I’d be remiss in my duty if I ignored the timing and implication of the choices made by a man under my command.”

  “Didn’t we play this tune already? A couple of months ago, the SEAL team in general and Poseidon in particular were under investigation.” Fury pounding in his head like a drum, Elijah shoved out his feet. He slammed his fists into the table
top and leaned across it. “We were cleared. Why the fuck isn’t that good enough? Why are you looking at us again?”

  “Us?”

  “Aren’t you?” Elijah punched the table with enough force to crack the wood, the splinters flying, ricocheting off walls and countertops. “Don’t you suspect me? Isn’t that why you’re all here? You think I had something to do with Ramsey’s actions. Isn’t that the reason for all the side-eye looks, the ignored phone calls? For keeping me out of the loop?”

  Elijah was breathing hard by the last word, his heart racing with pent-up fury.

  “Well.” Savino gave a slow nod, then smiled. “Glad we got that out in the open. Now the air is clear, and you can move forward without carrying a bunch of garbage you don’t need.”

  Elijah blinked a few times to try to clear the savage beat from his head. But even as it faded enough that he could see past the red haze, it didn’t quiet completely. Instead it played out in the background like Muzak. Annoyingly present, but too subtle to fight.

  “Was that deliberate?”

  Savino simply leaned back, resting one arm across the back of his chair.

  “Was what deliberate?”

  “Pissing me off. Suggesting that Lansky is under suspicion. Implying that someone in Poseidon could be playing in the dirt with Ramsey.”

  “I rarely do things by accident, but to clarify, I wasn’t suggesting, I was informing you that Lansky’s actions are suspicious. I wasn’t implying, I was telling you there are more hands than Ramsey’s that are dirty. As for pissing you off,” Savino said with a shrug. “My friend, you needed to get that off your back. You’ve already got a monkey living there. It didn’t need company.”

  Elijah’s gaze slid toward the hallway.

  “You mean Ava?”

  “Ava. Dominic.” Ignoring Elijah’s wince at the mention of his son, Nic continued. “Your divorce. Your loss.” He waited a beat. “Your life.”

  “My life,” Elijah ground out. “Mine to deal with or ignore.”

  “Yep.” Nic got to his feet, his moves totally chill as he slid his tablet into his jacket pocket and ran a hand over his closely shorn hair. “Like I said, your monkey, your back. I simply kept another one from taking up residence.”