Deadly Promises (Tracers #2.5)(96)

“That was my CO.”

It took a moment to process. “You mean Joe?”

He nodded. “Our team’s going wheels up at twenty-one hundred.”

The numbers permeated her brain. She glanced at the clock. She looked up at his somber expression and knew he was talking about today. He lifted a hand to her face and brushed his fingers down her cheek, as if that would somehow soften the message.

“When do you… ?”

“I’ve got a flight leaving Midland in three hours.”

“I’ll drive you,” she said.

Then she got up from the bed, walked into the bathroom, and closed the door. She showered, dressed, and packed her duffel—again—all without the slightest sign of emotion. She thought of Joe, the man who’d raised her to know what stoicism was, and held it together the entire time. Even her hands were steady on the wheel of her Suburban as she neared the dusty town of Midland and the first airport sign came into view.

“Where are you going?” she finally asked, breaking an hour of silence as she exited the highway.

“I can’t tell you that.” He turned to face her and she saw her reflection in his sunglasses.

“Is this training or… ?”

“I can’t tell you that either.”

Her chest squeezed. She focused her gaze on the road in front of her, concentrating on the little yellow stripes to keep from thinking about the emotions churning around inside her.

At last, the passenger drop-off area came into view and she pulled up to the curb.

“Kelsey.”

She turned to look at him. He’d removed the shades and those blue eyes held hers.

“I can’t tell you. Even if we were married, I couldn’t tell you. That’s the way it is in the teams.”

“I know.”

Married? The word put a giant lump in her throat. Why had he said that?

She glanced away and was proud to see her hands at least looked still on the steering wheel. He couldn’t see that her palms were sweating, that her pulse was racing, that a cold panic was seeping into her chest. She took a deep breath and fixed a smile on her face.

“Good luck,” she said, maybe a little too brightly.

He watched her as if he were trying to read her mind. She prayed that he couldn’t, that he had no idea how she felt right now, or that she was about one kind word away from losing it at the door of this airport.

He leaned closer. “Kelsey…”

“Bye.” She gave him a quick kiss on the mouth and pulled back, putting the car in gear.

She waited, nearly biting a hole in her tongue as she gazed into those unreadable eyes. Finally he eased away and opened the door. He reached over and grabbed his bag from the backseat. “I’ll be in touch.”

She held her breath as the door slammed, as he hesitated beside the car, as he stepped to the curb. Then she pulled away. She drove past the waiting passengers, the loading and unloading cars and trucks. She drove past the sign for a rental car company, past the orange cones marking a construction zone, and even the sign for the upcoming Interstate 10 before she pulled over and let herself breathe again. And when she finally did, it felt like a thousand razors filling up her lungs, and she knew it was the ragged shards of her broken heart.

GAGE JOGGED UP to the Suburban that had stopped on the shoulder, and he knew before he even opened the door what he was going to find. But knowing it didn’t make it any less painful.

“Hey.” He climbed in and pulled her hands away from her face. She looked up at him with those soulful brown eyes and he felt like he’d taken a bullet in the chest.

“Come here,” he said, and pulled her over the console and into his lap, and she made a keening sound like an animal. “Hey.” He wiped the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. “Don’t do that. Hey.”

“The thing is, I think I love you. And I can’t stop thinking about”—her breath hitched—“what happens when you come back. And what happens if you don’t.”

She buried her face against his chest, and he held her head against his heart and wanted to absorb all that pain he’d seen in her face. He never wanted her to feel that. Ever. And especially not because of him.

His pulse was pounding now because of what she’d said.

He eased her back and lifted her chin with his finger, and he took another hit when he saw the anguish on her face.

“I love you, too,” he said. “Only I don’t think, I know.”

Hope flickered in her eyes, but he could tell she still didn’t believe him.

“And what happens when I come back is that I come see you. First thing. Because we’re going to have a lot of catching up to do.” He paused. “You up for me coming to Texas?”

She nodded.

“And what about San Diego? You up for coming to visit when I get leave?”

She squeezed his hand. “Will this work? Do people really do this?”

“It’s hard, but yeah, some people do it. I’ve never understood why. Until now.” He cupped his hand around her cheek. “I want to see you every chance I get. So don’t go forgetting about me or picking up with that guy Blake or finding someone else, all right?”

She looked startled now. “How did you know about Blake?”

“Call it a sixth sense.” He smiled. “Maybe because every time he looks at you or talks to you or gets within a hundred feet of you, I want to take his head off.”