Beyond Limits (38 page)

“Did you see the news out of Houston?” he asked, changing the subject.

“The assassination attempt? I saw it. Why?”

“You helped with that. I don’t know all the details, but I know the intel you provided helped. I thought you should know.”

“But even if you did know the details, you wouldn’t tell me, right?”

“That’s true.” Damn it, he could not lie to this woman.

“Well . . . thanks for being honest, at least. It’s actually very refreshing.”

Luke turned and looked out at the surf. He felt a strange tightness in his chest. He wanted another night with her. He wanted to watch the ocean with her and talk with her and even sit through freaking
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
with her if that was what she wanted.

And he suddenly knew he’d played this wrong, and he was an idiot. He should have left her thinking what she’d been thinking when he slunk out of her room at 0600.

“I have to go,” he said, and she laughed at his abruptness.

“All right, well . . . thanks. For the shrink. And for talking.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“If you’re ever in Boston, you should give me a call.”

“I will.”

He got off the phone and stared out at the water. He’d finally done it. For the first time since he’d known her, he was pretty sure he’d managed to lie.

Three months later

D
erek was bone-tired and jetlagged, and the only thing keeping him going was the promise of tomorrow. After grabbing some food and a few hours’ sleep, he planned to hit the road.

“Come on, one beer,” Cole said, catching up to him in the parking lot on base.

“Can’t do it. I’ve got an eighteen-hour drive tomorrow.” It was going to be straight-up hell, but it would be worth it, because at the end of the road was Elizabeth.

“Come on, man. The whole team’s there.
One
beer. It’ll help you get to sleep.”

Derek stopped in the parking lot. He didn’t need help getting to sleep. But the team thing got to him. It had been a hard tour, and he should end on a good note, especially in light of what he planned to do.

Cole smiled, because he knew he had him. He jerked his head toward his truck. “I’m driving.”

Derek climbed in for the short hop over to O’Malley’s. Cole found a parking spot at the end of a row of pickups.

Derek eyed the bar as he crossed the lot. It was loud and dirty. A young Marine sat on the curb outside, nursing a bloody lip. Not even ten, and already there’d been a fight. Some things never changed.

They reached the door, and Cole slapped him on the back. “It was a good tour, my friend.”

Derek narrowed his gaze at him.

“See you next week.” A smile spread across Cole’s face as he looked out at the parking lot.

Derek turned around. And there was Elizabeth.

She walked over as he stood there, speechless. So many days and weeks he’d been craving her, and now she was right there in front of him, her eyes smiling, her hair blowing around her shoulders. She glanced past him and waved.

“Thanks, Cole.”

“No problem. See you around.”

She stopped in front of him. “Hi.”

He pulled her against him and kissed her.

When he finally let her up for air, she was grinning. She couldn’t help it. She’d had the same dumb grin on her face since she’d landed in San Diego.

“You’re here.”

She laughed. “Yep. And you sound as out of it as you look. Long flight?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, then blinked down at her, still without words.

“Come on,” she said. “I assume you want to go inside?”

“That’s the dead-last place I want to go right now.”

He wanted to go to bed, she could see it in his eyes. She wanted that, too, but not yet. “Let’s walk on the beach.” She took his hand. “I need to talk to you.” He let her lead him across the street. At the edge of the sand, she stopped to take off her sandals. She was in jeans and a loose white blouse, and she could tell he liked it by the way he kept staring at her.

“Damn.”

She smiled. “What?”

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” He pulled her in and kissed her again, longer this time, until her body started to throb. God, she’d missed him.

She pulled back and looked up into his eyes. Nerves fluttered inside her. “I have news,” she said, and at his raised eyebrows, she stepped back. “Whoa. What’s that look? I’m not pregnant or anything.”

“That’s not what the look was. Pregnant? I thought you were going to say you met someone.” His brow furrowed. “Did you?”

“
No.
God. I got a job offer. In D.C.” She looked up at him, trying to read his reaction. “It’s with Gordon Moore’s CT team. It’s a promotion, and it puts me very close to Virginia. Only a stone’s throw away.” She swallowed. “Would you consider moving to Little Creek, Virginia?”

He looked surprised, then confused. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You want . . . wait, start over. You’re saying you want me to move across the country?”

“I was thinking if you joined the East Coast teams in Little Creek, we’d see much more of each other. We’d see each other every time you have leave and while you’re stateside for training, too. And you’d still be a SEAL.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to be a SEAL.”

“I want you to do what you love. I want you to be happy.”

He didn’t know that? How could he not know? Her heart chilled at the thought. They started walking down the beach, and she suddenly felt worlds apart from him. She’d spent so much time while he was gone considering everything, from every possible angle, and she’d thought she understood him better now. Maybe she’d been fooling herself. She watched him in the moonlight. The moon was full, just as it had been their last night together.

“You remember that night at the dam?” she asked. “When Lauren was in the hospital?”

“The night you attacked me in my truck?” The corner of his mouth curved. “I think I remember it.”

“You told me that story about your first tour of duty, when Hill got hurt.”

“Yeah?” He clearly had no idea where she was going with this.

“I didn’t understand why you told me that. You’d always been so secretive about your missions, and I thought maybe, I don’t know, you were trying to impress me or something so I’d sleep with you. But then later, I realized what you were trying to tell me.”

She stopped and looked up at him. He towered over her, and she loved his height and his broad shoulders and the solid bulk of him. She loved the way he was looking at her, like she was a puzzle he wanted to figure out. She loved just being near him after so much time apart, and she dreaded the idea of him going back out there. But she’d accepted that if she loved him, it was something she needed to live with.

“Derek, I know there’s no ‘safe’ for men like you. There’s no guarantee. All you can count on for sure is your training and your brothers.” She squeezed his hand. “You put your trust in them, and I need to put my trust in them, too.”

He stared down at her, not talking, and she couldn’t read his expression.

“So yes, I want you to be a SEAL. But I want to see you, too. I’m trying to figure out a way for us to do that.”

He stood there for a moment, and then they started walking down the beach again. The sand was cool between her toes, and she tried to focus on that instead of her out-of-control nerves. His reaction wasn’t at all what she’d expected. She’d thought he’d be happy.

He led her to a piece of driftwood and sat down, tugging her with him. He looked out at the water.

“See those rocks over there?”

She followed his gaze.

“I damn near killed myself on those.” He shook his head. “Rock portage. Sean Harper and I almost drowned trying to get the boat out.” He looked in the other direction. “I’ve run so many miles on this beach I can’t even begin to count. Hundreds. Thousands.” His gaze settled on her. “The East Coast teams, they’re not the same as here. They’re not the same brothers.”

Her throat tightened with disappointment. She didn’t know what to say.

He picked up her hand. “I’m thinking of switching gears.” He looked at her. “Gordon called me, too. He’s recruiting me for HRT, the Bureau’s hostage rescue team. I did a phone interview a few weeks ago, talked to the commander.”

Her jaw dropped. She’d had no idea he was even thinking about leaving the Navy.

“I’d be in Washington,” he said.

“I know.”

“What do you think?”

“I think—” Her mind was racing with possibilities. “I think they’d be lucky to have you.”

“But what do you think about it for
us
?”

“I think I’m blown away.” She reached up to touch his cheek, his jaw. His stubble felt bristly under her fingertips, and she couldn’t believe he was here and they were having this conversation. “You’d really go through so much . . . change to be with me?”

“Sometimes change is good.” He looked at her. Then he looked out at the ocean and his face turned somber. “You know, ever since Sean died, I’ve been thinking a lot. I’ve been thinking about people and family and what matters.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, and she felt a pinch in her heart at the tenderness of it. “You’re the best thing in my life, Liz. There’s not anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

He looked at her again, and the moon was so bright she could see the love in his eyes.

“But I’m worried, too,” he said. “I have to be honest. Reentry is tough. And I’ve been away so long . . . I think I’ve forgotten how to be home.”

She reached up and touched his cheek. “Let me show you,” she whispered, and pulled him down to kiss her.

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E
venings were the hardest, the time when everything unraveled. Catie’s mind overflowed, her chest felt empty, and the craving dug into her with razor-sharp claws.

Catie’s shoulders tensed as she pulled into the wooded park. All her life she’d been addicted to work and approval and success. Now, she was simply an addict.

Her high-performance tires glided over the ruts, absorbing the bumps as she eased along the drive. She turned into the gravel parking lot and swung into a space.
Forty-six days.

Resting her head on the wheel, she squeezed her eyes shut. Her throat tightened and she fought the burn of tears.

“One day at a time,” she whispered.

She sat up and gazed through the windshield. She’d never thought she’d be one of those people who gave herself pep talks. She’d never thought she’d be a lot of things. Yet here she was.

Catie shoved open the door and popped the trunk. She tossed her purse inside, then rummaged through her gym bag, looking for her iPod. On second thought, no music. She slammed the trunk closed, locked the car, and tucked the key fob into the zipper pocket of her tracksuit. She leaned against a trail marker and stretched her quads. A few deep lunges and she was ready to go.

She set off at a brisk pace, quickly passing the dog walkers and bird enthusiasts who frequented the trail. Her muscles warmed. Her breathing steadied. She passed the first quarter-mile marker and felt the tension start to loosen.

The routine had become her lifeline. She registered the familiar scent of the loblolly pines, the spongy carpet of pine needles under her feet. She put her body through the paces, then her mind.

It was Wednesday. She was halfway through the week, another daunting chain of days that started with paralyzing mornings in which she had to drag herself out of bed and force herself to shower, dress, and stand in front of the mirror to conceal the evidence of a fitful night. Then she faced the endless cycle of conference calls and meetings and inane conversations as the secret yearning built and built, culminating in the dreaded hour when it was time to go. Time to pack it in and head home to her perfectly located, gorgeously decorated, soul-crushingly empty house.