A Covert Affair (Deadly Ops #5)(81)

“Have you gotten off this couch since I left this morning?” His lips twitched slightly.

“Unfortunately yes. A few friends stopped by to drop off food, which is pretty awesome. The fridge is stocked if you’re hungry. And a bunch of people from both restaurants came by too.”

Nathan frowned, but she shook her head. She knew he hadn’t wanted her to let anyone in while he was gone, but she couldn’t live her life like that. “The threat has passed. I can’t just ignore everyone in my life.” It had been pretty stunning how many calls and drop-ins she’d received once the news broke this morning. Yesterday she’d filled out tons of fun paperwork for the Miami PD and answered a bunch of questions about what had happened.

The state’s attorney wasn’t going to press charges for her killing Collette—obviously—but knowing it for sure eased any residual tension. Unfortunately she’d been bombarded with phone calls from reporters requesting interviews, but she was ignoring all of them. Her name shouldn’t even have been leaked, but shit happened and there was nothing she could do about it now.

“We need to talk.”

The serious note in Nathan’s voice made her sit up. “That sounds ominous.”

“It’s not. I just . . . I need to tell you who I work for and what I do for a living. The truth. I had to get permission first.”

“Okay.” She reached for his hand and linked her fingers through his. After the last two days she didn’t want to let go of him.

“I work for the NSA, usually in an undercover capacity. Black ops. We . . . are not honest about some of the things we do, but it’s for the right reasons. When my boss got a tip about the missing women, he wanted to cut through the red tape and find them. It’s why I told you I was with the FBI. I’m not saying it’s right or wrong or asking you to agree with what I do. I’m just saying I sleep fine at night and I’m okay with what I do. If that changes, I’ll find a new profession. I’m going to be cutting back on undercover work and I’ve asked for a transfer to the Miami office. I’ll still travel for work, but it won’t be as much as I used to. And there will be some things I simply can’t tell you. If—when—we get married, I’ll be able to tell you more, but some things will always be a matter of national security. And you’d prefer not to know most of the time anyway, trust me.” He finished in a rush, as if he’d practiced his speech.

Which, knowing Nathan, he had. She loved that about him. “Are you done?”

He nodded, his body language rigid, as if he expected her to what . . . disapprove? She nearly snorted at that.

“Well, first, I guessed who you worked for. Originally I thought it must be the CIA when I realized you weren’t with the FBI, but the night of . . . the other night after the Miami PD got called in by your boss and started clearing out all the women, I recognized him from that awful Westwood bombing. Second, I’m glad you’re transferring to Miami, but I would have moved anywhere you were. Just for the record. And third, when we get married? That’s a lame proposal if I ever heard one and I expect better.”

He blinked, as if in surprise. Seriously, did he think he’d told her anything to get mad about? Or maybe he was just as freaking nervous about everything as she was. Things had gotten serious with them pretty fast. Or at least things were serious for her. With Nathan in her life, there would never be anyone else. It was as simple as that.

“I’ll do better, then. You don’t care about what I do for a living?” He squeezed her hand once as he watched her.

“You saved not only my life, but dozens of other women.” Including Tessa and Danita. Tessa was luckier than most since she hadn’t been in captivity long. And Danita would be staying with a friend, her former landlord, as long as she needed. Amelia couldn’t even think about the nightmare some of them were going through right now. Most were pregnant and having to figure out what to do with their lives. Thankfully Maria’s father was setting up a fund to help them all get on their feet and start fresh. The donations already pouring in were staggering. She cleared her throat, suddenly feeling nervous. “Where are you going to live when you move to Miami?”

“Here.”

“Good answer.” A smile tugged at her lips, but just as quickly dimmed. She needed to get on the full-disclosure honesty train too.

“What is it?” He tugged her closer, pulling her into his lap.

She loved that he wouldn’t allow any barriers between them. “I’d planned to tell you this and I guess now’s as good a time as any.” She took a deep breath, feeling ashamed about some of the things she’d done to get started. “When I first started my restaurant I got in a little over my head. I learned quickly what I was doing wrong, but . . . I had some debt. Not a lot, but enough that it made my first year really hard. I turned to a loan shark for a quick loan to cover some of it, and in return he wanted me to do some favors for him. Nothing huge, but . . . I occasionally let him set up meets in my place for drops. Not drugs or weapons,” she said quickly when he didn’t respond.

“It was mainly jewelry and other stolen goods. I know because I looked in his packages a couple times. I was up-front with him in the beginning that he could never use my place to run drugs, but I checked just to make sure.” Amelia narrowed her gaze at Nathan. “And you’re not even surprised by this. You knew?”