He took her hands in his. “We already know he’s dirty. We just haven’t determined to what degree.”
The enormity of the mess overwhelmed her. “This is all so screwed up. We can’t do this. Like I said last night, it’s best for us to end things now.”
“We’re not screwed up,” he insisted. “The company is.”
“I don’t know… I can’t…” She pulled back, hurt and confused. “I need to think.”
“No. We need to work through this together.”
That touched a deep, barren part of her. She’d stood alone for so long, she didn’t know what it was like to have a man want to battle for her, not against her.
He smoothed her hair back toward her ponytail. “I want to know everything about you, Miranda. All the things you haven’t told me.”
She looked away. “No, you don’t.”
“Yes. I do.” He tipped her face up to meet his eyes. “Your past has only made you the woman I’m crazy about now. I want to see where you live, meet Marty and Gypsy, see the veterans’ project, hear about your work with Pinnacle. You’re fucking impressive, Miranda. You’re resilient and talented and ambitious. I want to know all of it.”
She met his gaze deliberately. “You’re leaving.”
“New York isn’t on the other side of the damn country.”
“You’re not being realistic.”
“And you’re not dreaming.” He took her face between his hands and held her gaze deliberately. “I’ve never met anyone like you, and I’m not going to give up before we’ve even given it a real try. Please. Mee
t me in the middle here.”
She exhaled and looked at the door. At her escape route. But she knew what lay beyond—a life filled with work, work, and more work. For the first time, she wanted more. For the first time, she had a man who wanted more too.
“Shit.” She covered his hands with hers, pulled them away from her face, and climbed off his lap. “Come to the vets’ site this weekend. It’s a big work party. All the volunteers will be there. I’ve got to get back to work.” She picked up her helmet and scraped her hand through her hair. “And, now, I’ve got to figure out what I’m going to tell the crew about you. Jesus.”
He stood, caught her hand, and pulled her back. He wrapped her tight and kissed her. “You’ve got this. We’ve got this.”
21
Jack turned off Highway 65 and followed the GPS directions along surface roads toward the Warrior Homes building site.
“Some pretty country out here.” His father sat in the passenger’s seat, a bit on the sedate side, but returning to himself a little more each day. Jack thought his dad might benefit from being around a construction site again. Specifically, one not run by Pinnacle. Jon wasn’t ready for that kind of wake-up call.
“Very pretty,” Jack agreed. The heavily treed hills rolled gently across the northwest portion of Davidson County, about twenty minutes outside the heart of Nashville. “Miranda said the property was donated to the project by Veterans Affairs.”
“Have to be a millionaire to afford it otherwise.”
He smiled at Jon, who stared placidly out the passenger’s window. His father never did come to terms with being one of those millionaires. Had continued to live a scaled-back but comfortable life even after Pinnacle had become wildly successful. Jack hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his dad until he’d started getting pieces of him back. He also hadn’t realized how much he wanted Miranda until she’d walked away.
He was still feeling shitty about the way he’d called her out at work, but at the time, he’d believed the longer he waited to get answers, the longer Pinnacle remained at risk.
Jack hadn’t spoken with Miranda beyond a few texts since. He’d spent the rest of the week in Tampa working with Kelsey’s client. When he’d returned late last night, Miranda wouldn’t see him. The new distance between them hurt, and he wasn’t sure what to do to bridge the gap.
“In one thousand feet, your destination is on the left.” The GPS’s disembodied female voice read off the address, but Jack knew he’d arrived. The entrance to the property was a little hard to miss.
The fence along the road broke on both sides of the entrance. Both angled sections of the fence had been replaced by ornate iron slabs, topped with beautiful scrollwork. A depiction of a waving American flag had been split between the two fence pieces, and a beautiful hand-cut script lay beneath the image. Home of the free on the left, and Because of the brave on the right. Above it all, an arch announced the entrance to Warrior Homes.
Miranda’s signature was all over the metal. She definitely had the heart of an artist.
“That’s some beautiful ironwork.” His father’s assessment drew Jack back.
“Sure is.” He continued through the entrance and wound his way up a gentle incline. When he reached the top, the land opened up in front of him. The trees had been thinned for building sites. A lot of building sites. “Holy shit.”