Gage couldn’t think of a goddamn thing to say. He was so shocked and pissed off, he needed a minute to get his thoughts together.
“Gage? You still there?” Quentin sounded equally frustrated.
“So my handler got fired and no one thought to contact me? What the fuck is that about?”
“No one thought to let you know because you retired about six months before she was let go.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“According to the higher-ups, yeah, you did.”
“Wouldn’t someone have contacted me then, do the usual exit interview? And if you didn’t hear it from me, then how…” He stopped short. “Wait, did Carol say that I wanted out?”
“Carol brought in your resignation, said you were happy to stay in the background, keep your fingers in all the little pies, but you weren’t interested in remaining active. There’s a letter signed by you in your file, from what I understand.”
“I never wrote any letter. Well, I did, but not until a few weeks ago.”
“Carol went a little off the deep end, have you been in contact with her?”
“In contact with her?” Gage wanted to scream in frustration. “I’ve been working for her the last two years! Jesus, I don’t even know if I’ve been doing legit jobs. What the hell, man? And you didn’t even call to say goodbye?”
“I was kinda pissed that you didn’t,” his friend admitted. “I figured you had a lot goin’ on with your uncle dying and you inheriting that team. Great season, by the way.”
“Thanks.” Gage was still shell-shocked. “So, let me get this straight. Someone, probably Carol, wrote a resignation letter for me and turned it in. No one contacted me, no one thought that was weird, nothing?”
“From what I heard, you resigned from any future ops but said you would stay on board for any ongoing situations with some of the irons you have in the fire. I’m not your boss, so I don’t know the details. They made it sound like you would be some kind of consultant, because of your history and all the contacts you’ve made over the years.”
“Fuck me loud, Quentin.”
“Man, you need to come in, talk to somebody.”
“I do, but first I have to fix things with Laurel.”
“Laurel? You two are back together?”
“Well, we were, and then we weren’t, but now I think we are. It’s a long fucking story and I don’t have it in me to explain today. When I come to D.C., we’ll get a drink.”
“Deal.”
“Thanks, man. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Don’t wait too long—brass is going to be pissed when they find out about this.”
“I won’t. Thanks again.” Gage hung up and walked back into the house. He had to pack and get his ass on a plane back to Anchorage. He didn’t know what the fuck Carol had done, but making up with Laurel was the priority. Everything else had to wait a few more days.
Gage got home late and wondered if Laurel was still awake. He hadn’t called her, taking a little more time to digest everything he’d discovered so he could explain it to her. There would be no more secrets between them, which was something they both had to get used to, but he was ready to start.
“Mr. Caldwell!” Wenda looked shocked to see him as her hand flew to her chest. “You startled me.”
“I’m sorry. I was trying to be quiet. I didn’t think anyone would be awake.”
“Ms. Saunders is in the library, she might have fallen asleep but I didn’t want to disturb her, and I was just off to bed myself.”
“You’ve been staying here?”
“It doesn’t seem like Ms. Saunders has been feeling well, so I thought I’d stay just in case she needed anything.”
“Is Mr. Carruthers here?”
“Yes, Mr. Carruthers went to bed about an hour ago, though I’m sure he’s not asleep.”
“Thank you, Wenda. I appreciate you looking out for things while I’m away. Go on to bed and I’ll see you in the morning. Just not too early.”
“Good night, sir.” She walked back toward the kitchen and he changed direction, going to the library. It was the only room in the house he’d redecorated other than his bedroom, and he’d had Laurel in mind when he’d done it. She loved to read, and so did he, so they’d often talked about having a room in their house one day for all their books, with a fireplace and cozy furniture. It made him happy that she’d discovered it without him having to tell her.
She was asleep in one of the big, comfortable chairs, a book face down on her chest as she dozed. Damn, she looked gorgeous in the firelight, her hair spread out across her arm and part of her chest. He drank in the sight of her, still the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. He wanted to freeze this moment, enjoy the peacefulness in his home and his life. It had been a long time since he’d felt this content, even though he and Laurel technically hadn’t even made up yet. It made no sense, but he couldn’t deny what he felt.
“Babe.” He knelt before her, one hand on her arm so as not to scare her.
“Hi.” Her eyes opened slowly, blinking awake. “What time—”
“Do you want to talk tonight or would you rather sleep?”
“I’d rather sleep, but we need to talk.”
“Well, since the boys won tonight, we’ll be on our way to Vegas tomorrow so it’s up to you.”
She met his gaze. “We can talk. I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” He leaned over and scooped her up, holding her against his chest.
“I can walk.” She smiled.
“I know, but I want to carry you. Do you want to bring your book?”
“I don’t even remember what I was reading. I think I fell asleep after two pages.”
“Riveting stuff, that Sherlock Holmes.”
“I love it. I’m just tired.”
“Come on.”
He carried her up the stairs and into their room. Well, hopefully it would be his room too again soon, but he wouldn’t make any assumptions at this point.
When he put her down, she scooted back so she was leaning against the headboard and patted the spot beside her. He crawled in next to her and met her eyes, hoping she would say something first because he still didn’t know exactly what to say.
“Things have gotten out of control again,” she whispered.
“I know.” He took one of her hands in his and held it against his chest. “I’m so sorry about everything, Laurie. The only thing I can say is, I have no purpose on this earth if you’re not here with me. I hope you know that.”
“I don’t seem to have much purpose without you, either.” She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Did you get my package?”
“I did.” She didn’t move but let out a small, shaky breath. “I don’t think I know what I’d do with a billion dollars.”
“Anything you want. That’s kind of the point.”
“Gage, you know I can’t accept.”
“Laurel.” He slowly lifted her chin so she was staring up at him. “Don’t you see? Nothing I have matters without you. Not money, not the team, not even my life. If you’re leaving me, you might as well take everything because it won’t matter anymore.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly. “I’m hurt and frustrated and a little angry with you about the secrets and the lies, but I can’t live without you either. The once-a-year booty calls are getting old and…” Her voice trailed off and she dragged her bottom lip through her teeth. “I have to tell you something.”
“Are you okay?” he asked gently.
She nodded. “I’m, uh…we, well…” She seemed at a loss for words and stared at him as if willing him to read her mind.
“Are you pregnant?” He didn’t know where that came from but suddenly her fatigue and how emotional she’d been lately made a lot more sense.
She nodded again, breathing in slowly. “I was on the pill both times we got pregnant. I think in the future we might have to consider using something else.”
He leaned down and kissed her, holding her mouth captive as his tongue gently but firmly found hers. “I want as many babies as you’ll give me,” he rasped.
“Did you suspect?”
“Not until right this minute, when you were struggling to say what was on your mind. Then it clicked into place with how tired you’ve been and everything. Are you okay? Really?”
“I’m fine. Truly. The only real problem is fatigue, that part is kicking my ass.”
“How far along are you?” he asked, resting his hand on her still-flat stomach.
“Maybe eight weeks? I haven’t been to the doctor or anything.”
“We should do that.”
“We will. God, what are we going to tell people?” She dropped her head back to his chest. “We can’t tell them I’m pregnant or they’ll think that’s why you hired me, and on top of that, I can’t let people think I can’t handle a little morning sickness and—”
“Hey, stop. Hang on.” He shook his head. “We don’t have to tell anyone anything until the season is over. Then I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks and neither should you. You own the team now.”
“Gage, no, I can’t—”
“You can and you do. It’s all yours.”
“No. That’s not how this is supposed to work.”
“How’s it supposed to work?” he asked softly.
“We’re a team, partners. We share it all. No one should have all the power, all the money, all the anything.”
“Ah, baby, that sounds so great in theory, but as we’ve experienced, in practice everything is a lot harder.”
“It shouldn’t be.” She paused. “If you need to keep being a spy, I’m just going to have to get used to it, I guess. It’s not right for me to change you from who you are.”
“There’s so much I have to tell you.” He hadn’t wanted to get into it, but it was now or never, so he told her about his conversation with Quentin. “They had no idea I was still working with Carol. They thought I’d gone into sleeper mode, basically waiting for some big operation or essentially on-call if they really need me. I’m going to D.C. to deliver my resignation in person this time, so it’s official.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Absolutely. It’s been coming for a long time, but without you in my life, I didn’t have the motivation to make such a big change. I’ve been ready for a year or so, which makes it even more frustrating that everything went down the way it did. I’m so sorry you felt like I lied to you. I was done but I totally underestimated Carol’s obsession with me.”
“I’m sorry I overreacted, but when I saw you with her, the same woman who essentially ruined my life the first time, I was so mad I couldn’t see straight. I wish you’d told me, but you were free to do whatever you wanted while we were separated.”
“I’ve been emotionally done for a while, but it means the world to me that you’d be willing to compromise.”
“I was scared and selfish when we were younger. Can you forgive me for wasting all these years?”
“I can forgive you anything.” He lightly pressed his lips to hers.
“We have so much to talk about, but I’m tired. Can we talk on the plane tomorrow? I think I want to fly with you, not with the team. I need a little more alone time with you after everything that’s happened.”
“Of course. We have the rest of our lives to talk, right?”
“Absolutely.”