Strategic Engagement (Wingmen Warriors 5)

Finally she spun to face him, all traces of regret and could-have-beens erased from her face. She was getting better at hiding her emotions. Much more practice and she'd be gone from him altogether, even if she never crossed the county line.

A bizarre thought for him, a man who kept life simple. Fact based. But he knew. She was easing her way out of his world. She'd thrown him out last time. This time she would stride away with a long-legged grace.

She smiled, signaled her end to deeper discussions, another freaking odd thought since that was usually his role.

"Anyhow, it's wonderful how everyone turned out for you with more than just gifts. They're here with support, for you and the boys. You're going to be fine." She held his gaze for one of those long, Mary Elise moments that carried peace and intensity all at once. "I'm so happy for you, Danny. You deserve to be loved."

"So do you." Where had that come from?

Well, hell. Of course he'd never been the right man for her, but that didn't mean he didn't want her to be happy. He'd always wanted that for her.

Her mask slipped, not much. But enough.

He pressed his advantage. "You don't have to go." Daniel closed the steps between them. "I know you'll need your own place and a job, so why not settle in Charleston? I'm not looking for you to take on my responsibilities, but it would be good for the boys to have you near. And I could help you relocate."

She backed up a step, tidewaters swirling between them. "I'm not staying here."

He'd expected that, realized he'd have to push her on this. He hadn't, however, expected the jab of disappointment. Eleven years had passed just fine without her.

Well, maybe more like the last nine of them.

Why the hell should a handful of days together change that? "Where are you going? Back to Savannah after all?"

She shook her head. "I want to start over somewhere new, fresh."

"Where?"

Since when was she the kind of woman who wanted to see the world? She'd been the girl who planned to settle in Savannah and fight battles with award-winning editorials that would shape the future of her hometown.

"Midwest or up north," she answered evasively.

Enough of this bull. He gripped her shoulders and drew her close, closer until the current made circles around their ankles. "What's going on here, Mary 'Lise?"

He tightened his hold before she could slip away from him again like the sand under his feet; and tried like hell to ignore the sense that if she left, that would be the end. No more second or third chances to get her out of his head. He would be stuck with her haunting his mind with regrets, clinging to his thoughts like one of those whispery strands of red hair blowing over him for the rest of his freaking life.

They might not be able to recapture their friendship. The soft give of womanly flesh heating through his hands and sending blood straight south fast confirmed that. But damn it, he would not let this woman go until he knew she was settled, editorial pen in hand, crusades in place.

Smiling again.

He stepped closer and let the heat of his body filter through the air and his words. "Why haven't you called your parents? Or anyone other than me? Don't get me wrong, I want to be here for you, whatever you need, you know you can count on me. Doesn't matter what the hell happened eleven years ago. One call, and I'm there."

"The call was for the boys, Danny."

Anger chafed like the broken shells under his feet. "I know there's not a chance you would have contacted me otherwise."

"Because I don't need anything." She softened her steely declaration with a gentle smile and hand on his forearm.

A hand that shook.

"You're a good liar. You say it with a straight face, no wince, looking me right in the eye. But the thing is, I know you learned that from me after the trouble I pulled us through as kids."

"Then how do you know I'm not telling the truth?"

"I'm a better liar now than I was before." Military training and covert ops had taught him well. He raised his hand, pressed two fingers to the side of her neck, her pulse throbbing against his skin. "I can feel your lie right here."

Her heart rate kicked up a notch under his touch, a wariness tinting her eyes that almost stirred guilt. Almost. He wouldn't be deterred from prying answers out of her this time.

Eleven years ago that cornered look in her eyes might have swayed him. But not now. He'd seen the worst the world had to offer. Fought it. Conquered it more than once, and damned if he would let this woman bring him down with a simple wince.