“I’m guessing Luke let you know we’re not grounded anymore?” He came into the room and stood opposite the desk. “I’ll miss a few training sessions with you. Sorry about that.”
She waved a hand in the air. “I’ll be fine on my own.”
“But will you be?” He cocked his head. Worry in his eyes.
“I don’t need this from you, too.” She sat and scooted closer to her desk.
His eyes flipped to the ceiling as if he were biting back the urge to say something. He’d been edgy at the office and only seemed to be his typical playful self when inside the boxing ring. “You know Luke will have a parade of people checking on you while we’re gone. You won’t be able to stop him.”
“And it’s not necessary.”
He crossed his arms. “Are you still having nightmares?”
Her gaze flicked to his brown eyes, the color of mahogany with a darker rim. “No. I think our fight sessions have helped keep them at bay.”
“Then maybe I shouldn’t go. I could see about staying here.”
“When have you ever backed out of an op? Not for anything or anyone.”
“You’re not just anyone.”
Her cheeks heated at his words, but then frustration burrowed into the pit of her stomach. She needed her thick skin back. Where had it gone, and why was he making it so difficult to maintain the fortified structure she’d built around her heart?
“Stop saying that stuff to me.”
“What ‘stuff’?” He used air quotes as he circled the desk.
The smell of leather with mint citrus notes and a touch of cinnamon from his cologne touched her nostrils.
She rose and removed her glasses, and then pinched the top of her nose before placing them back on.
“Oh,” he said while scratching his throat, and closing one eye, “is this gonna be another one of those times where you say you prefer me to be a jerk?” His tone was light, but she knew he was holding back from delivering more of a punch with his words.
“The playful banter. The jabs.” The desire to screw. “That’s fine. It’s given with us.” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her fingernails biting into her palms. “But these sweet and caring comments . . . you know how I feel about them.”
He dropped his eyes to the floor. “Guess I was right. No surprise there.”
“We had a moment at my place, and you let me cry on your shoulder. And maybe we had a few moments before Berlin.” She paused. “I really do appreciate what you’ve done for me, but this other thing between us has to stop.”
“Define this other thing for me,” he said while twirling a finger like a helo blade, “because surely the thing you’re referring to can’t be my desire to pin you to your desk, lift your skirt, and—”
“Asher, please.” She inched closer to him, which maybe wasn’t the best idea because she could smell him even more. Feel the tension beating off of him like the crest of a wave on impact.
“I want to hear it from you. For you to say the words this time. No escape. No deflection. Tell me you don’t want me. Let me hear you say it.”
“We had sex one time.” Her index finger flipped up. “Six years ago.”
His mouth rounded, and his booted feet inched back a step. “You think all I want from you is sex?” The depth of his voice, the sting cutting through his tone—it had her pressing her palms to her abdomen.
She was hurting him and damned if his pain didn’t hurt her, too.
It was what the team needed, what the country required of them—to be coworkers. Plain and simple.
Although how could anything ever be easy with them?
He turned his back, his fingers diving through his hair, his corded forearms tightening, and the sleeves of his shirt bunched at the elbows, started to slip.
“I’m just trying to get back to my life,” she whispered, fighting the break in her voice. “To be who I was before I lost my mind.”
“And you want the wall back up between us?” he asked softly and slowly eased back around to find her eyes, shoving his sleeves back to his elbows.
“The wall should never have come down.” He’d been working at her with a chisel and blow torch before Berlin. But now all he had to do was hug her, and she turned into someone she didn’t recognize. How was that possible?
“Jessica, I know that’s what you think you want, but—”
“But nothing.” Her eyes fell shut because she couldn’t possibly look at him and say what she needed to. “Don’t you get it? I’m trying to be me again. We have to go back to the way things were before everything became so hard between us.”
“You can’t keep doing this,” he said, and she opened her eyes. “Pretending to be okay.” His pupils dilated a touch, and he remained quietly observing her as he waited for her to speak.
“I’m not pretending,” she responded once she found her voice.
“I call bullshit, and you know how I know?” He stabbed the air. “I was like you before joining the team.”
She swallowed, her chest feeling as if her lungs were collapsing. “Yeah, and what changed?”
“You,” he whisper-said. “You changed me.” He took a breath and mumbled, “Whether I like it or not.” He focused on her mouth before his brown eyes flicked back to hers.
“You’re still a Teamguy,” she sputtered, willing her tone not to waver. “And I’ll always be Luke’s sister. Plus, there are about a million other reasons why there can never be more between us, even if . . .” Now it was her lower lip quivering.
“Even if what?” He edged closer, eating up almost all the free space between them, and she knew she’d come far too close to revealing the truth. The truth she wouldn’t even confess to herself.
“After Berlin, this is the last thing we should be discussing.”
He turned his head as if he didn’t have the stomach to look her in the eyes while she attempted to deflect. “You could’ve died without ever . . .” It was him dropping his words this time, and maybe he realized they’d be wasted on her.
“Go to Mexico, and when you come back, can we please go back to normal?”
“Normal?” He faked a laugh. “Sure. As normal as us kissing in Central Park at Christmas? As normal as the way you make me feel every time we’re in the same room together?” He surrendered both palms in the air. “That’s the only normal I know.” The room grew quiet, so quiet she could hear the beats of her heart, and he turned and started for the door. “See you later, Jessica.”
Jessica. Not Peaches.
Part of her wanted to crumble to the floor, but no, she’d done this to herself. She deserved whatever punishment came along with hurting the man she cared about.
When he was out of sight, the past catapulted to the front of her mind, a reminder as to why she had to sacrifice her wants and needs.
You’re like Superwoman, Ara had said when she’d first arrived in Berlin over six years ago.
Nah, I’m no one special, Jessica had responded.
You are to me. You’re my hero. Ara had hugged her, and she’d let her do it. She had even hugged her back.
She’d realized then she needed to do more.
And right now, she needed to be the woman Ara had thought her to be.
She needed to be a hero.
And heroes didn’t have time for love.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Luke made you come, didn’t he?” Jessica glared at Eva and rolled her eyes.
“It’s Valentine’s Day, and we’re going to have a girls’ night out. Samantha’s in New York while she waits for Owen to get home, and she brought her friend Emily with her.” Eva waved a finger in the air with a quick smirk. “Friends don’t let friends spend Valentine’s Day alone.”
“I’m not going clubbing. I’ve only been home for a few weeks.” She shook her head. “Going out for a night on the town after what happened would be crazy.”
“What you need is to take your mind off everything.” Eva stepped inside J
essica’s walk-in closet and disappeared from sight. “We don’t know when the guys will be back, so you get to be my plus one tonight.”
“I don’t want to be a plus anything.” Jessica dropped onto her bed at the sight of Eva carrying an armful of dresses out of the closet.
She set them on the bed and began sifting through them. “Well, I need to celebrate the fact I can fit into my old clothes,” she said with a laugh.
“Yeah, your boobs don’t, though.”
“Perks of breastfeeding, and Luke certainly isn’t complaining.”
Jessica held up her hand. “Woman . . . this is my brother we’re talking about.”
“Right.” She smiled. “Okay, which will it be? Classic black? Or red?” She narrowed one eye and held the two choices in the air, and then diverted her eyes to Jessica’s legs, clad in pajama pants. “You’ve been shaving?”
“I haven’t let myself go.” Okay, maybe the first week after Berlin she had, but she was slowly finding her rhythm again. “You know, two weeks isn’t that much of a recovery for most people.” She shot her friend a pointed look.
Eva tsked. “Since when are you ‘most people’?” She tossed her the black dress, which would have Jessica’s breasts spilling out of the top.
“I cannot go clubbing. I have work to do, and—”
“And punching bags to hit?”
Jessica processed Eva’s words. “Luke told you, huh?”
Eva’s lips pursed, and her lashes lowered briefly. A light shade of red inched up her throat and to her ears. “Yeah, uh, Luke told me everything,” she softly admitted. “He mentioned you’ve been training with Asher. Until they left for Mexico three days ago, anyway.”
Asher was the last person she wanted to talk about, especially with Eva. “He’s the best fighter, so . . .”
“I know.” She cleared her throat. “And he’s probably good at a bunch of other things, too.”
“Yeah, so, can we go back to talking about your boobs?”
Eva pointed a finger at her. “There you are. I missed you.”
Jessica stood and eyed the black dress. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” She wished Luke hadn’t told Eva everything.
“Just get dressed,” Eva ordered. “And wear the red lipstick, okay?”
“Are you trying to score me a date tonight, or what? I thought I was your plus one.” She reluctantly walked toward the en suite, dress in hand.
“When was the last time you had sex?” Eva’s arms crossed.
“You’re marrying my brother.” She pivoted to face her. “I probably shouldn’t be talking about this stuff with you.”
“You honestly think I’d share your secrets with him?”
“I don’t have any secrets.”
“Mm. Sure.” Eva’s eyes narrowed.
“The last thing I need right now is sex, anyway.” Even if I want it with Asher. Only him.
“Are you sure?” She arched a brow. “Maybe you need to let loose.”
She silently contemplated the notion.
“Or is it that you already found someone you want?” Eva asked.
“Don’t start.” She already knew what was coming.
“Luke saw Asher’s message to you just before . . .” She found Jessica’s eyes and took a breath. “When Owen was syncing all your data after your phone got destroyed in Berlin, Luke saw the text from Asher.”
“What text?” Jessica tossed the dress onto the bed and went to her nightstand to grab her phone.
“Asher told you he missed you. It’s not on your phone now?” Eva stood next to her as Jessica scrolled through the messages to and from Asher right before Egon had tried to destroy her life.
“The last message on here is from me.” She blinked and put her phone down. “Why would Luke delete the text?”
Eva dragged a palm down her face.
“And why’d Luke tell you about it in the first place?”
Eva slumped onto the bed and pressed her palms atop her red pressed slacks. “He’s been venting to me. You know how hard it is for him to open up, but—”
“What is it?” Jessica sat next to her.
“He thinks there’s something going on between the two of you, and I’m honestly surprised it’s taken him this long to figure it out.”
Jessica’s brows scrunched. “But there’s nothing going on.” Never can be. And she’d told Asher that before he’d left for Mexico.
“You’ll always be Luke’s little sister, even though you’re this powerhouse of a woman.” She shifted on the bed to better face her. “It won’t matter what guy you end up with in the future—Luke’s not going to like him. Well, not at first.”
“There’s nothing for Luke to worry about.” But her mind breezed back to the supposed I miss you text from Asher.
It wouldn’t have been a big deal to most people, but it was a huge-ass step for Asher. He didn’t do I miss yous or hugs. He was like her. Practically cut from the same cloth. Well, he used to be, but he had changed, hadn’t he? Admitted as much in her office, anyway.
“I think I need a drink.” Jessica rose to her feet and grabbed the dress from the bed.
“So, we’re going?” Eva’s dark brows rose. “No fighting me?”
“Yeah, I guess.” She sighed. “But I’d better wear a wig. The image of me in that vest, is, uh, still making its way through the news cycle.” Her throat thickened at the memory.
“It’s not that clear of an angle.” Eva stood. “Maybe I’ll wear a wig, too, though.”
“The paparazzi still hounding you since you’re back in the spotlight?”
Eva was part of the famous Hollywood Reed family, but she’d hidden from her name for years until she met Luke.
“Unfortunately. And the last thing we need tonight is to draw attention to me, only for them to discover you.”
“Good call.” Jessica went into the bathroom and shut the door behind her and then peeled off her pajamas.
As she went through the motions of getting changed, Asher’s text continued to batter her mind: words she hadn’t even read because her control-freak brother had deleted them.
She’d have to deal with Luke’s invasion of privacy at some point. But she wasn’t itching to talk about the subject matter: Asher.
Right now, she just wanted her team back home safe. Not being with them on an op had driven her nuts the past three days, but she also knew it’d been best to stay behind. She couldn’t risk their lives with a bad call if she lost her focus.
Two weeks ago, she’d had a bomb strapped to her chest.
Yet somehow, right now, all she could think about was a simple I miss you.
Jessica studied the glitzy club, but she wasn’t focused on the flashy lights, the people dressed to the nines, or the music. No, she was scanning every door to note possible escape routes and checking for anyone who looked dangerous.
She’d let her guard down in Berlin. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
“You look tense,” Samantha’s best friend, Emily, commented.
The woman bore a striking resemblance to Jennifer Garner, who’d starred as a CIA spy in the old show Alias—a show Luke had teased Jessica about watching when they were younger.
“How’s your brother doing? Stopping that massive attack back in 2017 like he did—he’s an incredible guy.” Jessica thanked the bartender for her martini and refaced the group.
Emily tucked her golden-brown locks behind her ear and gave a light shrug. “Jake’s good. He thinks he needs to be Superman, though, I swear. Trying to save everyone. Kind of like you and your team, huh?”
Jessica wondered how much Owen’s fiancée, Samantha, had told Emily about her team, but her thoughts faded as they clinked their glasses together in a toast.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, ladies,” Eva said.
“You, too,” Samantha and Emily said at the same time.
Jessica inhaled a breath and followed it with a large gulp of liquor, hoping it would settle her nerves
.
“Think the boys are okay?” Samantha asked, stress lines appearing between her eyes.
“They’ll be fine,” Eva said, but she was unable to hide the crease of worry in her forehead.
“Sorry about what happened to you,” Emily said shortly after in a low voice. “And I’m so sorry about your friend.”
Jessica’s heartbeat ramped up, but she managed to utter, “Thank you.”
Despite the loud house music pumping through the room—an interesting remix of a Charlie Puth song—the silence between them became deafening.
Eva reached out for her arm. “I’m glad you came out with us. I know this can’t be easy, and maybe I shouldn’t have pushed, but—”
“No, you were right.” A total lie, but what could she say? She didn’t want her future sister-in-law feeling bad. “Why don’t you guys have some fun. Hit the dance floor.”
“I’m thinking Luke and Owen wouldn’t be thrilled with you grinding up against any guys. We should probably stick close together if we do go out there,” Emily said with a chuckle.
“Owen’s progressive and all,” Samantha began, “but not when it comes to men groping me.”
“Yeah, Luke, too. But we can protect each other on the dance floor.” Eva looked to Jessica, but before she could reply, Jessica’s gaze snapped to a familiar face at a booth in the back of the club.
“I’ll, um, be right back.” She slipped her glass back onto the bar and, before anyone could ask questions, maneuvered through the crowd.
Asher’s sister sat alongside a few other women. Bottles of expensive champagne crowded the table. Angelo wasn’t in sight, though.
Sarah’s long dark hair, a reminder of Asher’s, was swept into a high ponytail, and the dress she wore—well, Asher would’ve had a brotherly heart attack.
“Uh, hi.” Sarah shifted off the leather to stand. “What’s with the hair?”
Jessica touched her long black wig. “Right. Um, it’s a Valentine’s Day thing,” she sputtered. “Don’t ask.” A quick, forced laugh tumbled free. “So, you’re here with friends?”
When Sarah pointed to someone behind Jessica, she glanced back. Angelo stood off to the side of the club, talking to some guy. A guy who was poking his finger at his chest. How had she missed him before?
Stealth Ops Series Box Set Page 63
