TEN
They drove without talking, and the noise of the wind kept it from being awkward. He glanced at her in his passenger seat, and she pretended not to notice. He wended his way through downtown and then headed north up the coast.
Ethan downshifted as he eased around a curve and came out on a bluff overlooking the ocean. They passed an Italian restaurant where valet attendants were parking Porsches and Mercedes-Benzes, and Karly had a moment of worry over her attire. But they sailed right past the fancy restaurant and continued along the road until the pavement petered out at a wooden fence. Ethan pulled into a gravel lot and parked.
“This is it?” She glanced around.
“Yep.” He hopped out and went around to her door, but she’d already climbed out.
Luciano’s Café was located on the north side of a shack overlooking the beach. The other side was a surf shop that advertised everything from Sex Wax to wakeboards.
Ethan hadn’t been exaggerating when he said it was casual. The place didn’t even have a door. People were ordering at a counter and eating their food at picnic tables facing the water.
“What’s good here?” she asked.
“Everything. I always get the meat lovers’.”
“Hmm . . .” She gazed up at the menu board. “I’ll have a three-cheese calzone.” She pulled an icy Corona from the cooler beside her and plunked it on the counter.
Had he bought her story about having to work later? It wasn’t an excuse—she really did have a deadline in the morning. But drinking a beer now probably wasn’t helping her credibility.
I’m so freaking glad you said yes. The words burned in her mind as he paid the bill and led her to an empty picnic table.
She sat down, and he took the bench across from her.
“Great view,” she said, looking around nervously. The surfers were long gone, but plenty of people were still out strolling along the shore.
She looked directly into Ethan’s vivid blue eyes and forced herself to hold his gaze.
“I meant to call you back, but . . .”
“It’s okay.”
“No, I should have called back. It was rude. I—”
“Forget it.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and she looked down at those muscular arms. The claw marks she’d left there had healed.
“I’ve been wondering how you are,” he said.
Something in his expression made her skin flush. “I’m okay.”
He watched her steadily. She remembered the look from their conversation on the balcony.
“Did you go see someone?”
A therapist, he meant. He’d made her promise to talk to someone, and she’d fully intended to blow him off. But to her surprise, she couldn’t. He’d done so much for her. He’d saved her life, and blowing off the one thing she’d promised him felt like a betrayal.
“I did,” she said.
He watched her closely, but he didn’t pry. Maybe he was trying to read whether she was telling the truth.
“Really, I did. The FBI agent who debriefed me here gave me a referral. Some doctor she knows . . .” Karly trailed off, not really wanting to go into it.
“Is it helping?” he asked.
“Some.”
His expression sharpened, and she could see he knew she was lying.
She looked down at his arms again. She thought about him hauling her into that helicopter and how she’d never been so shocked in her life. She’d found herself surrounded by jacked-up warriors, with Ethan’s arms so tight around her she could hardly breathe.
She gazed into his eyes now, and the heated look there reminded her of their night together and how she’d been breathless then for an entirely different reason. How weird that the worst moments of her life and the best moments of her life were so closely intertwined.
Karly realized he’d picked up her hand, and she hadn’t even noticed. That was how scrambled her brain was around him.
“Karly—” His name came over the speaker, and he closed his eyes briefly. “Be right back.”
He got up to get their order, and Karly watched him go. She took a deep breath.
Whoa.
She’d had no idea how hard it would be to see him and not cave into everything he wanted. And she knew exactly what he wanted, because she wanted it, too. But she couldn’t do that to herself. She had to be strong. One night alone together, and she’d gotten so attached. Anything more, and she’d be an emotional wreck.
Sleeping with him was a onetime thing. As much as she might have secretly wished otherwise, the realist inside her knew better. He’d rescued her from a hostage situation. They’d shared a connection. A night together. The end.
But the words turned her stomach. Why couldn’t it be more? Why couldn’t it be a beginning?
No! It was a fling. Accept reality, and move on.
The problem with accepting reality? Her feelings. The way her heart had turned over when she heard his phone message. I want to see how you are. And the way her blood heated whenever he looked at her with those intense blue eyes.
Of course, SEALs were intense by nature. They were that way with everyone, weren’t they? Nothing special about her.
Karly watched him pick up their baskets. Then a pretty brunette waylaid him on his way back to the table. And wasn’t that interesting? From the way the woman smiled and touched his arm, Karly could tell they knew each other as more than passing acquaintances.
She turned to look at the beach, ignoring the pinch of jealousy.
Okay, it was more than a pinch.
Which made no sense, because she had absolutely zero claim on this man.
Which brought her back to her original point: she wasn’t going to do this to herself. The last thing she needed was some long-distance relationship. Or worse, some arrangement where she felt like she was strapped into a relationship and he felt free to move about the cabin.
Nope. Been there, done that. Never again.
Ethan set their baskets on the table, and Karly smiled up at him. He had a wary look in his eyes, as though he’d noticed her noticing the brunette.
Perfect time to change the subject.
“So.” She sipped her beer. “The FBI stopped by to see me today.”
That got his attention. “Why?”
She took a deep breath. “Evidently, they’re reinterviewing some of the hostages. They seem to think at least one ACB guy might have evaded capture.”
“One did.” Ethan’s jaw tensed. “We think he got out by boat during our initial strike.” He shook his head.
“It’s not your fault. There were only four of you. It’s not like any of you could be in two places at once.”
But Ethan seemed unmoved by her words. “What about the guy?”
“Agent Mays seems to think—”
“Alexa?” His brows tipped up.
“You know her?”
He nodded. “I met her during an investigation last summer. Ryan’s fiancée was kidnapped.”
“Ryan . . . as in the Ryan I met?”
“Ryan Owen, yeah. It was all part of this op that went sideways.” He shook his head. “Long story.”
He picked up his beer, and Karly watched him, trying to picture his big, tough SEAL teammate actually proposing to someone. It was even harder to picture him married. She wanted to know more about the op that went sideways, but she knew he wouldn’t tell her the details.
“So what did Mays say?” Ethan asked.
“She seems to think the one who got away is someone who came to the island posing as a tourist to scope things out just before the attack. She thinks he’s some key figure in the organization. They believe he has an American passport and that maybe he’s planning another attack.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed. “What does Mays want with you?”
“A description, mostly. I talked to this guy, so they think I can help ID him.”
Ethan’s mouth dropped open. He leaned forward. “You talked to Tango X?”
A chill skated over her skin. “She called him Mr. X.”
“Same thing. You’re telling me you actually fucking met the guy?”
“Well . . . yeah. At least if he’s the one they’re thinking of.”
Ethan stared at her, wishing she’d shake her head or tell him no, that he had it all wrong.
But she didn’t. Karly was sitting here telling him she’d met face-to-face with one of the most notorious terrorists on the planet.
“How the hell did you cross paths—”
“He walked over and struck up a conversation,” she said. “He was posing as a tourist, and he was very convincing. I didn’t think anything of it.”
Ethan’s gut clenched. “And they’re sure this is the guy? Tango X? The FBI is certain?”
“Well, not certain. But everything lines up. He called himself Tom Green, and there’s no record of anyone by that name at the resort. And I was at the FBI field office today looking at mug shots. Apparently, investigators have been talking to people, and I’m not the only one who saw a tourist fitting this description at the Sapphire the day of the attack.”
“Tom Green? That’s really what he called himself?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“It’s generic. Totally forgettable. It’s the perfect alias.”
Ethan raked his hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe this. Karly had met the man. Actually had a conversation with him.
Tango X, aka Mr. X, one of the most wanted terrorists in the world. Ethan had been hearing about him for years, but he’d never personally met anyone who’d so much as laid eyes on the man. Some SEALs believed he didn’t really exist, that he was some composite bad guy invented by the intelligence community to explain a bunch of dead-end leads.
And Karly had talked to the man.
She leaned forward. “You know him?”
“I’ve heard of him. Word is, he’s brutal. But I don’t know anyone who’s actually met him or worked for him and lived to tell about it.”
There was no longer a shred of doubt in Ethan’s mind that Karly and the other hostages were never supposed to leave that island alive. They were all supposed to die, probably not long after U.S. officials refused to help secure the release of that ACB leader who had been arrested at the airport. Right after Mancuso and his daughter were supposed to be decapitated on live webcam. Death for everyone had been the plan from the beginning.
But Ethan’s team had swooped in and fucked up the plan.
Because of Alpha Crew, Karly and the hostages had been rescued. Because of Alpha Crew, a sizable terrorist cell had been not only decimated but also humiliated, and news of the incident had been splashed across newspapers around the world.
Along with Karly’s name.
If these guys weren’t already motivated to carry out the “something big” that had been rumored for more than a year, then they sure as hell were motivated now. This group was out for revenge, and they didn’t do anything small.
Ethan took Karly’s hand. “Karly, listen to me. If there is anything—anything—you can tell the feds that might help them get a bead on this guy, you have to give it to them.”
“I know, but I really don’t have anything. I mean, besides the description.”
“That’s a lot. You’d be surprised. With facial-recognition software these days, you’d be amazed how they can ID people, especially if they have a front-view image.”
She laughed, although her eyes looked panicked. “But that’s the thing. I don’t have an image. I checked the photos on my phone, just in case. And they combed through Drew’s camera. The only image I have of this guy is in my head.”
“What about a voice recording?” he asked. “You used your tape recorder for interviews at the resort, right?”
“Yes, but I only interviewed Mancuso and his people, and it was inside the cabins.”
Ethan sat back, watching her, hating that even stateside, Karly was still involved in this mess. And here he was about to leave town.
He didn’t like it. In fact, he hated it.
“If there’s anything you remember, Karly, you have to turn it over to the feds ASAP so we can track down this guy and take him out.”
She drew back. “We?”
Yes. It was an Alpha Crew mission, no question. But he couldn’t tell her that.
“Somebody,” he said. “This threat needs to be eliminated before it comes to our shores.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. Damn it, he was scaring the hell out of her. But he needed to. It was important that she understand how serious this was.
She glanced down at her food. She’d barely put a dent in it. Her beer was gone, though. His was, too.
Karly looked at her watch. “It’s getting late.”
It was only nine.
“I should probably get home.” She smiled faintly, and Ethan knew he’d blown it.
They got up and pitched their trash, and Ethan rested his hand at the small of her back as he led her to his Jeep. He cast a glance at her as they walked.
Again, she felt vulnerable. He could see it in her eyes. And again, he was right here ready to take advantage. He was ready to wrap his arms around her and let her cry on his shoulder.
But she hadn’t cried. Not once. She was tougher than she looked, tougher than he ever would have guessed when he’d first spotted her creeping around that moonlit path in her cutoff shorts.
She looked up at him. “So two days left, huh? You plan to see your family?”
“They’re in Tacoma.”
“Really? And you didn’t want to go see them?”
They reached the Jeep, and he opened her door. “I wanted to stay here and see you.”
Her eyes widened.
“You know, I did this all wrong,” he said. “I never should have used the phone.”
Ethan had looked her up online. Her address was listed. But he’d thought it would be too pushy if he just showed up at her place.
“What’s wrong with the phone?” she asked.
“It goes against my upbringing.” He took a lock of her hair and brushed it over her shoulder, and she kept staring up at him with that look in her eyes, the one he remembered from the balcony. “My dad always said when you want something, you should go in person, look someone in the eye, and lay out your case.”
“Your case for what?”
God damn, she was pretty. He took her face in his hands and kissed her. Her lips were lush and warm, just like he remembered, and he pulled her against him and coaxed her mouth open. It didn’t take much. She melted into him, and her hands slid up to comb through his hair.
She felt good. Perfect. Every curve of her body was made for him, and he wanted to sink into her.
She pulled back and blinked up at him.
“Come home with me.” There. He’d said it. Just put it right out there.
“Ethan . . .”
“Please?” Jesus, he was begging. “I want to spend more time with you. We can just talk if you want. We don’t even have to go back to my apartment. We could go for a walk.”
She shook her head and looked away. “I think we both know that’s not happening.”
Okay, she was right. He didn’t want to go for a walk with her. He wanted her home, in his bed, where he could give her his undivided attention for the next forty-eight hours.
Less now. The clock was ticking.
Karly stared up at him. She couldn’t believe she was doing it. She was actually turning him down after that heart-stopping kiss.
“It isn’t a good idea,” she said.
“Why not?”
“Because. Because that night . . . when everything happened . . .”
His hands slid to her waist. “When we had amazing sex all night? Yeah, I remember.”
She huffed out a breath. “I remember, too. That’s the problem.”
“What problem?”
“You really need me to spell it out for you?”
“I think I might, yeah.”
“The sex was . . .”
“Disappointing? Sweaty? What?”
She rolled her eyes. “I was going to say incredible, okay? But that’s not a real relationship. That was just adrenaline and desperation, and that’s not a basis for anything.”
“It’s a good start. At least, I think so.” He took her hand and lifted it to his mouth and kissed it, and the gesture was so sweet it made her heart melt.
She felt her resolve melting, too.
“The thing is, I can’t stop thinking about you, Karly. I’ve been thinking about you all the time, ever since that night.” He eased her against him—not for a kiss but to wrap his arms around her. They were strong and warm, and she’d missed them so much it hurt just being there again.
Maybe she was the problem here. Maybe her expectations were wacked. Maybe she should just let this be what it was and stop worrying about all the things it would never be, like something real or lasting.
It could still be fun. Exciting. It could still be an escape from all the craziness going on in her life. Ethan made her feel sheltered from everything—he was really good at that. And the bond she felt with him was undeniable. She didn’t know how or why it had happened so fast, but she felt a deep connection with him.
He kissed the top of her head. She drew back and looked up at him, and he didn’t have to ask again, because the question was there in his eyes. She leaned in and kissed his chest and slipped her arms around his waist. “Okay.”
“Okay . . . is that a yes?”
She closed her eyes and prayed she wasn’t making a mistake. “Yes, it’s a yes.”