What was wrong with her? The one man she’d wanted a relationship with was here, waiting on her. Right outside the showers in the lounge. Waiting to talk. Waiting to pick up where they’d left off. Sam was everything she wanted in a guy—kind, romantic, tenacious, handsome, honest, full of integrity. And he liked her. A lot, obviously, considering all he’d done to find her.
I should be flattered.
Showered, dressed, and sitting on the floor, she hugged her knees to her chest. Rested her head against the tiled wall and willed herself to go out there. Face the music. Stop being ridiculous.
And yet, here she sat.
Maybe it was Trace’s fault. What he said, what he did—his touch against her jaw that she could still feel—reignited all the old feelings. Old promises. Broken promises. Promises she’d begged God for the first two years after Misrata to fulfill.
“Annie?” Téya’s voice echoed in the room seconds before her leggy friend rounded the corner and stopped short. “Sam’s waiting for you.”
Annie nodded but didn’t move.
Téya tossed her towel and change of clothes on the counter by one of the showers. “And why are we avoiding the hot-n-hunky Mr. SEAL?” She crossed her legs at the ankle and sat. “What am I missing?”
“The same thing I am, apparently.” Annie sighed and peeled herself off the wall.
“What’s wrong?”
“He doesn’t belong here.”
“Do any of us?”
“We do—you and I. Trace and Boone, Noodle. But not Sam,” Annie said, her words cracking on raw emotion. “This, what we’re going through, what we’ve done, what happened in Misrata—it’s a nightmare. Half our team is dead or dying, and I don’t want Sam to end up like that.”
Téya considered her.
Annie slumped back against the wall. She knew those words were more like the wrapper on a burger and not the meat itself. “What?”
“Well,” Téya said as she pushed to her feet. “If David walked in here right now, I sure wouldn’t be moping in the shower. Especially knowing what we’re facing, what’s out there trying to kill us. I’d be all over him—well, not literally—to make sure we had every moment we could get.”
“Would you? Really?” Annie felt worse. More guilty. “But it’d put David in danger.”
“Girl, please.” Téya went to the shower and twisted the knobs. “You are so not getting that over on me. That hunk out there is a SEAL, Annie. He knows how to handle himself. So, I know that’s not the problem behind you hiding in here. No.” She wagged her fingers at Annie, motioning her to get off the floor. “Stand and tell the truth.”
“That is the truth.” Annie stood.
“No.” Téya folded her arms. “That’s what you’re telling yourself so you don’t have to face the truth.”
“Yeah, and what truth is that?”
“Your feelings for Trace are still too strong. And you can’t decide between the two.” Téya smiled, took hold of Annie’s shoulders, then aimed her toward the lounge. “To be honest, I’m not sure who I’d pick either. But staying in here is only going to make that hair of yours frizzy.”
A shove pushed Annie into the open.
Sam looked up, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second. He started to push to his feet, then slowly finished the movement. And man! Téya was right—Sam was a hunk. Wearing a navy T-shirt and a faded pair of jeans only made him look more GQ. “Still hate me?” His rich baritone voice still smoothed her tension and made her relax.
“I don’t hate you.” Annie sagged as she released her frustration. “I just. . .”
“You don’t want me here.”
She sighed and closed the distance between them. Easing onto the sofa, she tucked a foot beneath her as she sat. “It’s dangerous, Sam.”
He smirked, angling his torso toward her. “You do realize I’ve run plenty of combat operations. I’ve shot people and been shot, Annie.”
Her heart spasmed, hearing him use her real name. Guilt tugged at her. “That’s weird. . .”
“It is for me, too. But I’m in. Whatever it takes.”
And that frustrated her. Why, she couldn’t explain because she didn’t know. He was nice. Too nice. Too understanding.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.
Annie gave a halfhearted shake of her head.
“I feel like I’ve lost you again.”
She sighed. “Sam—” she met his gaze and felt the walls around her heart stagger, so she looked down “—things are really messed up right now. There’s so much you don’t know—”
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t.” This time, she saw disbelief and hurt in his chocolate eyes.
“Annie, I’m here. I’ve been on a mission with you and your team. I’ve seen them.”
“But you don’t know—” She snapped her mouth shut. What would he think when he found out she’d been the team leader responsible for the deaths of twenty-two innocent lives? Would his resolute belief in her waiver? She believed it would. Sam was too good a person to accept something so heinous. “Sam, it’s so complicated. So dangerous for you to know, even though you’re here. Even though we are here, there are men still trying to kill us. Men resolved to make sure we stay out of the way or silent.”
“Fill me in. I’ve got the clearance level, Annie. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I fought to find out, and I’m not just walking away.”
“Sam, you don’t belong here.” Something about his resolution to stay involved made her feel like a heavy blanket had been thrown over her face. Breathing grew harder.
“I belong with you.”
Annie met his gaze. Yes, she wanted that. Believed that. But with her, not with her here.
Sam touched her face and she leaned into the warmth of his caress, closing her eyes. He tugged her closer and she let her temple rest against his shoulder. “Why does it scare you that I’m here, Annie?”
Eyes closed, she thought about how to answer that. Truth was, she didn’t know. Was it as simple as not wanting him to get hurt? Yes, a big part—she’d killed twenty-two people. She didn’t want to make it twenty-three.
But Sam was a SEAL. He knew how to fight. Knew how to operate.
But if he saw her operate. . .what would he think? When he found out she’d killed children and women. . .? “I don’t know,” she whispered.
He held her close, his chin resting atop her head. “Take your time figuring it out. I’m not going anywhere. Weston has made that clear.”
Annie lifted her head. Met his gaze. Their noses almost touched, and she could feel his breath fanning across her cheek.
He homed in on her mouth.
Her heart hammered. But instead of kissing him, she pulled back. Then hated herself because she saw the hurt in his eyes again. “Sorry,” she whispered. Telling herself she should just kiss him now, let him know she still liked him. Still wanted to figure things out. “I—”
“Annie!”
Her breath backed into her throat. She turned just as Trace stalked past the oddly angled walls that provided a bit of privacy in the lounge. His expression went from stern to anger in a heartbeat. He and Sam shared a long, hateful look.
Annie stood, intentionally blocking their glare-off. “What’s wrong?”
“Need you and Téya out here.”
Sam had come to his feet now, standing behind her possessively. And she couldn’t deny the jealous rage that spread through Trace’s face did her wounded heart a lot of good. But she didn’t want them at odds just for her thirst for revenge against Trace. She didn’t have a thirst for vengeance, truth be told.
“I’ll let her know,” she said, then turned to Sam and slid her hand along his arm until she clasped his fingers. “We can finish this later.”
Sam nodded.
Annie toyed with giving him a quick kiss, but they hadn’t really moved to that level. Or past the obvious rift between them. She squeezed his fingers then went to the showers.
“Give her room and time to figure this out.” Trace didn’t sound confrontational with that warning to Sam, but Annie knew better. She also knew what Sam would say.
“You mean, give her room so you can step back in.”
Yeah. About like that. . . She hated the tension between them, but she lingered within earshot to hear what Trace would say.
“What Annie and I had ended five years ago.”
Trace’s words were like a hot branding iron through her heart, searing any hope she had that they’d get back together. And that was it. That was why she didn’t want Sam here. She hadn’t given up on Trace. Even though he’d ripped her heart out. And now. . .he’d done it again.
“So there was a ‘you and her’ then?”
Sam sounded furious but also enjoyed getting the dig in.
“If you know anything about her, you’d be smart to bury that and give her the room she needs. Annie can’t be forced to do anything she doesn’t want to do. And if you try, you’ll only tick her off.”