Wiley’s response was to disconnect.
After replacing the phone on the nightstand, Shaw lay on his back, placed his left hand over his bandage, and gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling.
Jordie reached across him and stroked his hand resting on the bandage. “Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “I might’ve busted some stitches during that last go-round. All that back bowing. It was still worth it.”
She smiled and laid her cheek on his chest. “You’ve never said, but I hope you’re not married.”
“A little late to be asking, but no.”
“Ever?”
“It lasted less than two years. She liked me okay, I think, but she hated my job. I came home from an assignment, and she had moved out.”
“Did you go after her?”
“She made the better choice. For both of us.”
“Children?”
“No.”
“All of that’s true?”
“Scout’s honor.”
She gently plucked strands of his chest hair. “Of all the lies you’ve told me—”
“Part of the job.”
“I know. But what I want most to be untrue is what you told me about your parents and how they died.”
His body tensed, but he didn’t say anything.
“You told me that you’d followed in your dad’s footsteps.”
“I don’t want to talk about this, Jordie.”
“I didn’t want to talk about Josh.”
He hesitated, then said, “All right. Fair enough. About following in Dad’s footsteps, that’s true. He wore a badge and carried a gun. Tough when he had to be. Bad guys hated to see him coming. Good guys looked up to him.”
“FBI?”
“Local police department.”
“Where?”
“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.”
She let that pass. “Your mother wasn’t happy when you chose the same career path.”
“No. After forty years, Dad retired without a scratch. Which made her think the odds were against me. She was afraid I’d get hurt, or worse.”