Don’t look back, don’t look back.
But of course she did, finding him in her rear-view mirror still standing in the same spot, arms crossed, head hanging.
All the possibility between them finally gone, once and for all.
Chapter 17
Jesse had never been so fucking grateful to get off a boat in his life. The Going Deep came into their marina on Thursday evening, the bridge inspection project complete.
And that meant two very important things—one Jesse hated, and one he was potentially excited about.
The thing he hated was that part of him was glad to get some space from Tara. They’d gotten through the week without anyone else being the wiser. But ever since their conversation last Saturday night, Jesse had felt like he was a walking open wound that he didn’t know how to close.
Seeing her hurt. Hearing her hurt. Accidentally touching her hurt. Hell, seeing her hurt goddamned hurt. So, frankly, he was glad for her to have some time apart from him, too.
She was right. They were a mess.
And, for him, she was another brutal loss to add to all the ones that’d come before, tearing yet another hole in him until he feared he wasn’t a whole man. How many pieces could he possibly have left to lose? Because even though he and Tara should’ve had everything going for them, there was an immovable obstacle still standing in their way. And fuck but it was hell learning that sometimes love wasn’t enough.
Because he had that. He fucking had that in spades.
And still he couldn’t make a relationship work.
The thing that he was potentially excited about had hit his email on Monday. A personal invitation to a recruitment event for veterans with Metro Police, which was expecting an opening on the bomb squad within their Special Operations Division following the retirement of the squad’s long-time commander late this spring. Jesse had submitted an interest card through their website months ago and had forgotten all about it after he’d accepted CMDS’s offer.
Was Jesse interested in being considered for the position?
Hell, yes, he was.
If he got the job, it would obviously cause some challenges for his current situation. He’d feel bad for leaving Boone, and he sincerely hoped the man would understand because Jesse had already grown to like and respect him. But maybe, just maybe it would also solve some even bigger problems. Jesus, maybe even the biggest problem he’d ever had in his life.
The problem of loving Tara Hunter.
Since they’d returned to DC a day earlier than expected, Jesse could attend the first day of the recruitment event tomorrow instead of waiting until Saturday.
Small victories, but man, he’d take ’em where he could find ’em.
The team got the GD docked and cleaned up, stowed all their equipment, and said their good-byes to Mama D. And then Jesse headed out into the lengthening light of evening like work had been a jail and he was a newly freed man.
Fuck, this hope was so goddamned dangerous to be feeling. There were about a hundred things that needed to happen before he’d be remotely justified feeling it, but nobody ever accused the heart of being rational. Lately, his had been entirely out of fucking control.
Now, maybe he could do something about it.
He paused to unlock his car door, and something made him look up. He shouldn’t have been surprised to find Tara looking at him, because they were like magnets, only right now they were set to repel.
He gave her a nod, and she attempted a smile.
Hold on for me, Tara.
Sending that thought to her was all he could do for now. Raising his own hope was one thing. Raising hers would be unforgivable if he couldn’t deliver on it.
So he was at the recruitment event at a DC hotel first thing the next morning dressed in a brand new suit he’d bought off the rack the night before. Since he’d RSVPed, they were expecting him. And since he’d submitted his experiences, qualifications, and personal statement one night from the Going Deep, he was directed to a partitioned conference room.
A uniformed officer rose and shook Jesse’s hand. “I’m Officer Landers with the SOD, uh, the Special Operations Division.”
“Hello, sir, I’m Jesse Anderson.”
The man gestured to the seat opposite his at the table. “Please sit while I pull up your application materials.” He scrolled through some information on an iPad and finally nodded, an increasingly impressed look on his dark brown face. “Twenty years in the navy, rising to the rank of chief petty officer. Over a dozen years EOD, with leadership positions in more than one of the navy’s mobile EOD units. Special warfare training. These are impressive credentials, Mr. Anderson.”