Code Name - Revenge (Jameson Force Security 9)

“A Belgian Malinois. He showed me about a hundred pictures tonight, and he’s so beautiful.”

“But Bubba?” I can’t wrap my head around it. “Bubba’s something you name your coonhound.”

Jess snickers. “Bubba’s just a nickname, actually. His real name is Omega, but Kellen calls him Bubba. I think it’s cute, but I agree—that name doesn’t inspire fear and respect.”

Chuckling, I acknowledge the name doesn’t mean anything. “I suppose if he’s doing his job properly, no criminal will make fun of that name.”

“So true,” she laughs, and fuck… I really love her laugh. Throaty and joyful, both sexy and sugary.

These are the types of couch talks I love best. When we can laugh over silly things.

Next, I love our deep talks about politics, philosophy, religion. We’ve always been that way, ever since freshman year. Chase was more of a “let’s tell jokes over beers” kind of guy, but Jess was actually the most cerebral of the three of us. Despite her inherent artistic nature, she wanted to peel away the layers of profound topics to debate them.

I could talk to her for hours.

And while I hate to think of that night she cried on the couch while telling me her innermost shameful feelings about Borovsky—to this day still provoking murderous thoughts within me—I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything. It means the world to me that it’s my proverbial shoulder she wants to cry on.

The last of Jess’s humor dies, and her eyes swirl with serious intent. “Can we talk about us?”

Fuck.

My head rears back, completely caught off guard. She sucked me into complacency, the comfort of a known friendship, and I’d forgotten for a few blessed minutes that we both had something serious hanging over us.

“Is this really the time?” I croak, my throat suddenly very dry.

The look she gives me is one of fondness and pity. “I get discussing feelings is hard for you, Dozer—”

“Wrong,” I cut in, slightly offended she considers me weak on that front. Chase was the one who wouldn’t discuss feelings, and it’s because he never wanted to admit to her that he couldn’t commit. I’m not that man. “It’s not hard for me to discuss my feelings with you. It’s just that it’s going to be a pivotal conversation, and are we ready for our lives to shift while we have danger lurking around every corner?”

She tips her head, her raven curls bouncing with the motion. “You make a good point, but honestly, I need to talk about it. It feels more important to me than Borovsky.”

There’s something in her voice that I’ve never heard before. As if she’s lost and there’s an unyielding desperation to find her way back. I didn’t hear that tone even when Chase died or when she went through all that shit with Borovsky.

I’ve never heard this woman—one of the strongest I know—sound so vulnerable.

It prompts me to lean forward and grab her hand resting on the back of the couch. I squeeze it, and I don’t let go. “Let’s talk, then.”

She blows out a breath of relief, lifting curls from her face briefly before they flop back. “If I understand the brief conversation we had in Miami, you and I might have stronger feelings for each other than we’ve been willing to admit, and we’re just recently figuring this out.”

“Not so recently for me.” It’s a bold proclamation. “From the very beginning for me.”

Jess’s eyes glimmer with sadness. “I wish I had known. Things might have been different.”

“No,” I rush to assure her. “You were with Chase. You had Thea. Thea was the absolute best deal we all got out of that.”

Her head drops, gaze going to her lap as she processes. When she lifts her eyes back to mine, she asks, “It’s been seven years since he died. Why are we just talking about this?”

“At first, I didn’t want to betray him.” I squeeze her hand again, a punctuation of how earnest I’m being. “Chase was yours. He was also mine… my best friend. In my mind, he was always watching from beyond. Wanting me to take care of and protect you, but never, ever did he want me to be more.”

Jess smiles almost sadly. She knew Chase as well as I did. He wouldn’t commit to marriage, but he was very possessive of Jess. He would be the type who couldn’t bear to think of her with someone else.

“I can understand that,” she whispers. “But… after Borovsky, I mean, there came a time when I dated again. How come you—”

“I don’t have answers, Jess. I guess fear. I didn’t want to ruin anything, and frankly, I was pretty convinced it was a one-way street. I didn’t think you’d ever see me as more than a friend.”

“God,” she exclaims, pulling her hand from mine and covering her face. “We’re so stupid.”