The Cornerstone (48 page)

“There’s a strong possibility, yeah,” I said.

“That’s going to piss the special warfare command right off,” he said. Flight announcements drowned him out, and he paused before continuing. “How long’s it been for you? Two, three months now? You need to get back in the action. I bet you’re playing
Call of Duty
at three in the morning and yelling ‘hooyah’ at the screen.”

That was partially true. I missed the strategic nature of planning operations and working through variables, but I didn’t miss a war with no end in sight, bullets flying at my head, meals in vacuum-sealed pouches, or the thousands of miles between me and the woman I loved.

“Let me sort through a few more issues this week,” I said. “We’ll go from there.”

“You say that like you haven’t already decided that we’re going to be the best team in private defense contracting. This is the start of a long, profitable marriage,” he said. Another flight announcement trilled through the line. “That’s me. Talk soon, partner.”

When we disconnected, I saw another message waiting. I wasn’t ready to dump this information on Shannon yet. Given my contemplative mood, she’d launch right into problem solving mode, and I wasn’t adding another issue on her plate. I’d think it all over this afternoon, and we’d take this to the next step.

Shannon:
Does it make me old and boring because I want to stay in, eat lasagna and drink wine, and watch The Sopranos with you on a Friday night?

Will:
No, but you forgot about being tied to the bed and fucked straight through to Saturday

Shannon:
The whole package works for me

Will:
Let’s go to the beach tomorrow

Shannon:
You’re in New England now, commando. It’s December.

Shannon:
Beach season is over

Will:
We can go for a walk

Will:
I need some time near the ocean

Shannon:
We jogged through the Waterfront this morning.

Will:
That doesn’t count. That’s the bay. The harbor. I want a beach with dunes, sand, waves.

Will:
Being in the city isn’t even close to the same.

Shannon:
Ok, ok, relax, we’ll get you a beach

Shannon:
Well…I was supposed to swing by that house I bought on the North Shore today, but since I’m dicking around with this asshole, I’m not going to make it up there. I’ve put it off a couple times now.

Will:
The one where nothing was straight? With that rocky cove?

Shannon:
Yep

Will:
That’s a great beach. We can do your stuff and then we can walk for a couple of miles and back

Shannon:
Ok but seriously – I hate having wet socks. Being cold and wet makes me very unhappy.

Will:
Good. I prefer you hot and wet.

Shannon:
…

Will:
I won’t let you get cold and wet, peanut

*

We were headed
north on Saturday morning, away from the city and all its congestion, and I was humming with anticipation. I loved being with Shannon; I could pack that parachute nineteen different ways and still come to the same conclusion, but I didn’t love the city as much as she did.

There were the usual urban complaints: nonstop noise, pollution, close quarters, the
hurry up and go
mentality, but all of that was manageable. It didn’t matter where I was, so long as Shannon was with me…and I got to hit the beach with some regularity.

“Talked to Kaisall yesterday,” I said, turning off the highway and onto the coast road. “I’m going to give it a shot.”

Shannon glanced up from the floor plans in her lap. “Okay,” she said slowly. “So…that means you’re moving to Washington, D.C.? Isn’t that where Redtop is based?”

I drummed my fingers on the gearshift for a moment, searching the horizon for the right combination of words. We’d talked about me staying in Boston to sort out my life and deal with my shoulder, but we never discussed anything of permanence. Maybe that was embedded in each declaration of love that we shared, or the simple fact that we never discussed
not
living together, but this was where it stopped being temporary.

“No,” I said. “I’m staying here.”

She tucked her papers into a folder and filed it in her bag before responding. “How’s that going to work?”

Veering into a residential area, I glanced at Shannon. Her arms were crossed, her fingers tapping her elbows, and she was staring out her window. “Logistics command isn’t field work,” I said. “It’s about running comms, tracking intel, and monitoring operations from the eye in the sky.” Reaching out, I caught her hand and laced my fingers with hers. “I can do that anywhere. We could share an office. Wouldn’t you enjoy me, parked three feet away from you all day?”

“That’s not a good idea. We can’t be giving orders at the same time. We’d confuse the minions.” She shook her head resolutely. “And this is what you want to do?”

Gray blueness shimmered in the distance, and despite the thick cloud cover, I breathed a sigh of relief. The sea did good things for my soul.

“I think so.” It was the most sincere answer I had, and I accepted that I wouldn’t know for sure until I waded into the work. “A couple years ago, Kaisall only did big game accounts—defamed CEOs with bounties on their heads, mid-scandal politicians, and the occasional foreign diplomat. Not my scene, but it worked for him. These days,” I said, pulling into the stone driveway, “he’s branching out. He’s got some new contracts, and some of them are interesting projects. Human trafficking, small arms dealers, hostage recovery. I’d be into that.”

Shannon’s eyes cut to the side, studying me under her lashes, and she gnawed on her lower lip. “Are you sure about this, commando? You’re not going to miss invading countries? Shooting the dictators? Blowing shit up?”

I brought her palm to my lips, leaving a quick kiss there. “I know what I want, Shannon.”

She stared at me for a long beat, then blinked and nodded toward the house. “Let’s walk first,” she said. “I need to work off those pancakes before I deal with this place.”

We hiked down to the shore, and followed the narrow strip of sandy beach. Shannon was quiet at first, and then started pointing out unique features of the beachfront homes. This area was growing on me. I never expected that I’d enjoy the cold, turbulent Atlantic, or its unforgiving coastline. Now, with Shannon and the sea on either sides of me, I couldn’t imagine it any other way.

When we came to a sharp, rocky bend in the coastline where waves were beating against the shore, we turned around instead of trying to scale it. No wet socks today.

She stopped at the stone path leading back to the house, gazing at the structure.

We took the long way around, traversing the large lot and locating the property lines before arriving at the entry.

“All right. Let’s get inside.”

I followed her, hanging back while she walked the first floor. She wandered through each room repeatedly, her fingers grazing the fixtures while her lips drew tight in concentration.

“What’s our objective?” I asked eventually.

She settled on a window seat in the living room. “I don’t know why I bought this house,” she said, her words rushing out in a gasp. “The room dynamics are odd. The structure needs work. It’s a nice piece of land and…it
feels
like a good place, but I can’t remember what I wanted when I was negotiating this deal.”

“Do you always know?” I asked.

“Yes,” she cried. “The one thing I can do with any consistency is look at a property and know how to sell it, but…” She stood, shaking her head, and propped her hands on her hips. “The last time I was here, I loved this place. It seemed perfect for…I don’t know. For something.”

“Let’s keep walking around,” I said. “It’ll come to you.”

We climbed the stairs and walked through all seven bedrooms. She stayed quiet, occasionally making notes or running her palm down the walls.

“There’s something about this place,” she murmured from the center of a large bedroom that would surely bathe in the warmest morning sunlight. She held out her hands and turned in a slow circle, and it was right then, with her face tipped up and her green eyes wide, that I felt my forever winding around me. “I can’t explain it, but it feels like people were happy here. It feels like a
home
. Is it just me? Do you get that vibe?”

“I think you’re right,” I said, and it wasn’t without effort that I kept my voice steady. “It is a home.”

But that sentiment owed nothing to the four walls and roof. This was about permanence.
Our
permanence and it was possible this was where it would start.

Our eyes met across the room, and Shannon sensed it too. She didn’t know it yet, but she felt it.

“I know what to do, technically-speaking,” she said. “Or, I know what the boys would do. Patrick would get rid of all the wallpaper, paint, carpeting. Anything that wasn’t original. Matt would reinforce the foundation, pop out the dropped ceilings, and open up the layout. Sam would hit the sustainability features hard: rainwater catchment, solar, and tons of organic insulation products. Riley…” She looked around, her eyebrows pinching together as she thought. “He’d figure out how to replace the missing tiles in the entryway mosaic.”

“And what would you do?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she murmured. “I have no idea, and right now, I’m tempted to leave and not worry about this until spring.” She leaned against the wall, her hands open and falling to her sides. “We have enough going on with the wrap up on Turlan, and starting Mount Vernon, and we still have the freaking Castavechias. And a dozen others on deck. My pet project doesn’t need to consume everyone’s time and energy right now. This can wait. I can wait.”

Of course that was her reasoning.

She wandered out of the bedroom and toward the stairs leading to the third floor. Her fingers traced the intricate woodwork on the banister as she ascended. The rooms were narrower up here, but the views stretched off into the horizon for miles. There were small, rocky islands in the distance, and the faint outline of sailing vessels.

“It’s a nice place,” she said. “There’s a lot of potential here. I just don’t know what to do with it.”

We’d share this home for the next seventy years. We’d celebrate holidays and birthdays and everything in between here. We’d grow a family here. This was our escape.

I pointed out the window, drawing her attention to the grassy yard that rolled straight down to the beach. “Plenty of room for commando drills. Running, jumping, climbing. And those trees?” I gestured to the ancient oaks on the far edge of the lot. “They need tree houses, and a zip line. And down there? That old patio? We’ll have barbeques and parties, and Lo will manage to pass out with a bottle of tequila every time.”

It was bait, pure and simple, and I wanted her to take it.

Shannon’s expression morphed from confused to curious to pained within seconds.

“You don’t
want
to be here,” she said. “You want to live in San Diego. You’re going to get bored, and then you’re going to resent me, and you’re going to leave, and I probably won’t survive it this time. So please, let me have right
now
. Don’t give me a story about us, and zip lines, and barbeques. Don’t play with me. Don’t pretend.”

Fuck. That. Noise.

“I’m not leaving,” I said. “I’m not getting bored, and there’s no way in hell I’d resent you.”

Shannon pushed away from the windows and paced the length of the room. It was small, the ceilings vaulted, and it didn’t give her much space to work out that nervous energy. “But you will!” she cried. “You’re going to hate spending your days behind a computer screen when you’re used to blowing shit up and being a badass.”

“I knew I was ready about a year ago,” I said, watching while she continued pacing. “I didn’t acknowledge it, not really, but I knew I needed a change. I always thought I was career military, but I never saw a life beyond running special operations. That last tour was brutal, just fucking brutal. I’m ready, and even if all I do is cook you dinner, I’ll be happy. I don’t require much.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” she asked, stopping on the other side of the room.

“Because I needed to get it straight first. I needed a plan, and before you tell me that you would’ve helped, I know. I know you’ll do fucking anything for your people, and sometimes it’s crazy, but I love that about you—”

“You think you’re one of my people?” Arms crossed over her chest, she marched up to me, her lips twisted in a smirk and eyebrow cocked.

“I’d like to be,” I said. “You’re one of mine.”

“You might get bored,” she countered.

I reached out, grabbing her ponytail and wrapping it around my palm. Tugging, I lifted her gaze to meet mine. “Shannon, I don’t need much. Most of my possessions fit into a rucksack. If necessary, I can survive off the land for weeks. Maybe longer. All I really care about is being near the ocean and waking up beside you. I’ve had plenty of time to think this over, and I know there’s nothing else.”