When he finally hung up, Shay said, “I can’t believe he just did that.” She pressed her lips together and dared to say what she’d been thinking for a while now. “I think he has a gambling problem. He can’t even control himself in his own family environment.”
“Your dad probably thought Kent lost on purpose,” he said. “To give him money for the trip.”
“He makes a lot of money as a sales rep,” she said, “but he has no savings. Not a dime. I’m worried.”
Caleb drew her hand in his and pulled her to her feet. “I’ll talk to Kent about it,” he promised.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’ve tried, but he won’t listen to me. He respects you. I think you might be able to get through to him.”
Caleb had a feeling he’d better have that talk before Kent found out about Shay and him, but he left that part out. “I’ll do my best,” he said. “But right now…I want you…in my bed. I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”
“To sleep,” she said playfully.
“Of course,” he replied innocently.
A few minutes later, they walked hand in hand across the grassy back field between the office and his trailer. “It’s nothing fancy, like your place.”
“My house isn’t fancy,” she argued.
“I like your place,” he said. “It looks like you, and it smells like you. And I happen to love how you smell.” He kissed her hand. “My trailer, on the other hand, is a hole in the wall that came furnished from the prior Hotzone owners. I haven’t bothered to do anything with it, because, once the Hotzone is past the new-business bumps, I plan to get something else. But I’ve spent more time in this hole the past two months than I’ve spent in one place in ten years. That makes it a castle.” He paused at his door and pulled it open, before waving her forward. “So welcome to my castle.”
Shay walked up the stairs and entered. Caleb shut the door and locked it, thinking they’d had enough surprises for one day. He turned to find Shay standing at the bar that separated the living area from a compact kitchen, holding a photo he had displayed of him and six other Aces in front of a plane.
He walked up beside her, and she glanced up at him. “Tell me about the man in this photo,” she said, looking up at him. “Which one?”
“You,” she said. “I want to know about you. About the man you were then.”
“I was the same man I am now.”
“I want to know who that is,” she said, “because I know you saw things and did things. Hard, horrible things that have to haunt you. Yet you stayed ten years.”
How did he explain the switch he could turn on and off, that allowed him to become a soldier separate from the man? The switch that kept him sane. “Most of my missions were top secret,” he said. “I can’t talk about them. But even if I could tell you, you don’t want to hear about it, any more than I would want to remember.”
“Then why keep doing it for ten years?”
“Someone has to do the ugly stuff,” he said.
“But everyone doesn’t decide it has to be them.”
“I’m not the kind of guy who can go to work and pretend there aren’t horrors worse than you ever imagined in this world,” he said. “I’m the guy who makes sure others can just pretend.”
She set the picture down. “I see.” She turned away.
“Wow, sweetheart,” he said, snagging her arm and turning her to face him. “What just happened?”
“Just promise me when you leave this time, you’ll say goodbye, Caleb,” she said, her voice shaking. “Because not saying goodbye—that was just not right. It hurt. And so did ten years of shutting me out. Don’t do it again.”
He pulled her close, stroked her hair away from her face. “Shay. I’m not going anywhere. I told you. I’m here to stay.”
“No,” she said. “You say that, but you’ll never be satisfied taking amateur jumpers out for entertainment, Caleb. I saw you today. Saving lives is natural to you. You’re one of the good guys, that’s clear. That’s something to be proud of. And I am. But you said so yourself—you didn’t really want to leave the Army. This life will get old, lack purpose, and you’ll reenlist.”
He tried not to smile because her reaction wasn’t just about being tired. She cared about him. Maybe she loved him. He was pretty damn sure he’d always loved her. “Were you aware, my little Shay, that the Hotzone is contracted to train a group of Special Ops candidates once a month? That I am, indeed, still very much involved with the Army?”
She blinked. “You are?”
“That’s right,” he said, and picked her up. “I don’t have to go anywhere but here to make a difference.” He carried her past the worn leather couch and chair, down the short hallway to the bedroom—just big enough for a bed and nothing else—and laid her down. He went down on the mattress. “Sleep. You’re going to be nervous enough facing your family. Some rest will help.” He brushed his lips over her forehead. “Unlike you, I never showered this morning. I’m going to take a quick one and I’ll join you.”