“I don’t know,” she said, looking out at the yard again. “I didn’t have many friends back then. I was always…kind of intense. But I figured other kids just didn’t get me. Then Mom left.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “You have any idea how it feels to know that you’re not even likable or lovable enough for your own mother to want to be around you?”

  He winced. “That’s not—”

  She lifted a hand, cutting him off. “Then you and I became friends and it seemed like…oh, maybe things aren’t so bad. He gets me.” She gave him a wan smile. “I fell hard, Finn.”

  The words hit him like a soft punch to the chest. “Bec.”

  She didn’t look away, though her eyes were sad. “I always knew it was a long shot. But after the shooting, my hope got even stronger, because you saved my life. I didn’t remember how much hope I’d pinned on things working out with us until we dug up that time capsule. My letter is…ridiculous.”

  “I’m sure it’s not.”

  She gave him a sardonic look. “I had us getting married in Paris, having kids, and had already named our dog. Bartholomew, in case you were wondering.”

  Finn lifted his eyebrows. “That’s…specific.”

  “Well, you know me. Always making a detailed plan.” She waved a hand dismissively. “But that’s not the point. That’s not why I’m out here.”

  “Okay,” he said carefully.

  “I’m here because when I saw you and Olivia kissing on the deck that night at the hotel, saw how you looked at each other, it…knocked me on my ass.”

  His frown deepened.

  “Not because I’m still hung up on you. I’ve thought through that. That’s not it. I don’t even know you anymore, really. But it made me realize that you never looked at me like that.”

  He didn’t know where she was going with this, so he practiced what he did so often undercover—kept his mouth shut and let someone who wanted to talk, talk.

  “How long were you together?” she asked.

  “About a year.”

  She inhaled a deep breath and released it. “God, I was such an idiot. You must’ve thought I was pathetic.”

  “Of course not,” he said emphatically. “I never thought that. I loved hanging out with you. And if I led you to think what we had was more than friendship, I’m sorry. The last thing I would’ve wanted to do was hurt you.”

  “Thank you.” She sat up taller as if steeling herself for something. “But it doesn’t really matter at this point. What matters is that I read my letter and realized I’ve been stuck in this same place. And if I want to get out of it, I need to ask the hard questions. So all I want to know is—why not me?”

  The question was said matter-of-factly, but it sliced at him and drew blood, knowing that he’d hurt her, one of the few real friends he’d had in his life. Unease moved through him. “Bec…”

  She pointed a finger at him. “And I don’t want some sugarcoated version, Finn. I’m not that little girl anymore. I can handle it.” She stared down at her hands, spun a ring she had on her index finger, before looking up again. “But I need someone to tell me honestly what it is about me that makes me…hard to like. I know I can be abrasive, but I wasn’t that way with you. I showed you exactly who I was, and it didn’t…matter.”

  The last word caught in her throat, revealing that she was holding back a lot more emotion than she was showing, but her face remained set, determined.

  Finn’s chest squeezed tight, and he set his glass on the coffee table, trying to find the right words. He reached out and placed his hand over hers. “You’re not hard to like, Bec. You were one of my closest friends. I cared about you. You’re brilliant and beautiful and tough. You were back then, and you still are now. I would’ve been lucky to have you as a girlfriend. My parents would’ve been thrilled. For a while I thought that might be the next step…”

  “But?”

  “But I fell for someone else,” he admitted.

  “Olivia.”

  He sat back, releasing her hand. “Yes, and that had nothing to do with anyone else’s deficits and everything to do with how I felt when I was around her. I’d liked girls before. I’d had crushes. And I loved you as my friend. But she”—he glanced out at the yard, catching sight of Olivia’s silhouette in the distance—“lit up everything inside me.”

  The quiet admission was out before he could evaluate it or edit it.

  When he looked back at Rebecca, her eyes had gone shiny.

  “I’m sorry, Bec,” he said softly. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

  She gave him a wavering smile and swiped at her cheek where a tear escaped. “It’s not you. I think that’s…a beautiful thing to say. Just hearing you say it makes me realize I’ve never felt that. About anyone.”

  He blew out a breath, feeling exhausted all of a sudden, and ran a hand over the back of his head. “In a way, that’s probably a blessing.”

  She gave him a you’re-an-idiot look and scoffed. “A blessing. That I’ve never fallen in love like that? Gee, yeah, sounds awful. Who wants to be lit up inside? Screw. That.”

  Her dry tone was classic Rebecca, and it stirred an old fondness in him, but he reached for his drink, mulling over his thoughts. “It was teen love—hormones mixed up with the thrill of firsts with a big dash of pie-in-the-sky plans that would never come true. It’s idealized stuff that screws with your head and makes you reckless.”

  “So you don’t still love her?” she challenged. “That woman out there doesn’t light you up like that anymore?”

  The words dug in and burrowed under his skin like sharp hooks, making him shift in his seat. He stared out at the fading light, knowing Liv was in the distance, wishing she were on her way back, but feeling Rebecca’s stare on the side of his head. “I…care about her. But I’m not in a place that I can start a relationship. My job keeps me away.”

  Rebecca let out a gimme-a-break groan. “Really, Finn? You’ve become that guy?”

  He turned. “What?”

  “I’m not in the place for a relationship is guy-speak for I really like sleeping with you as long you don’t expect anything real from me.”

  “I—”

  “Look,” she said, gracing him with what was probably her don’t-mess-with-me lawyer glare. “I get that you have a job that doesn’t make things easy. But there are people in the military who are gone for long stretches who have relationships and families. So that’s a bullshit excuse.”

  “I’m not going to put her through that.” His jaw clenched. “And it’s not just the time away. Liv deserves better than what I could give her. You said it yourself. You don’t know me anymore. I’m not the guy I was when I was seventeen.”

  “She must see something in you,” Bec said, not backing down. “Sex with a good-looking dude is not that hard to come by. Liv’s gorgeous and smart. She could get that at any bar on any given night. She could leave here tonight and find it.”

  He grimaced. “Thanks for that visual, Bec.”

  “Just speaking the truth.” She shrugged. “And I’m not going to pretend Liv and I have always gotten along. Maybe subconsciously I sensed something going on between you two and got jealous. I don’t know. But I got close to her and the other girls that year after everything happened, and Liv was there for me. She was a disaster. We all were. But she was strong and fought hard to get where she is now.”

  “I know she did.”

  “So don’t do something to undo it,” Rebecca said.

  His stomach clenched. “I’m not trying to. I’ve told her where I stand with things. She’s not looking for a relationship either. We both know this is just for the summer. She’s okay with that. We’re going into it with eyes open so that when we walk away, no one is surprised.”

  Rebecca frowned as if something had just occurred to her. “What happened the last time?”


  “What?”

  “If you were in love in high school, what broke you up? Going to different colleges?”

  He squeezed the back of his neck and let out a breath. “No. The shooting.”

  Rebecca tilted her head. “What?”

  “I didn’t ask her to prom because I was such a chickenshit, but that night, we were in the janitor’s closet. It started out as an argument—or her rightly telling me what an asshole I was. But by the time the shooters came in, we were kissing. I heard you scream, and…”

  Her frown deepened. “And what?”

  “I ran out to help. I left her in there, which led Joseph right to her. I almost got her killed.”

  Rebecca’s expression fell into one of disbelief. “Jesus.”

  He lowered his hand and shook his head. “I know. I thought it was okay. I thought she’d be safe in there. But…I wasn’t thinking straight. I left her vulnerable. And I put you at more risk because they weren’t after you. They were aiming at me, and you were collateral damage. I’ll never forgive myself for either.”

  “Finn.” Rebecca reached out this time, taking his hand and forcing his attention upward. Her eyes were gentle, sad. “Don’t do that to yourself. You saved me. Trevor was aiming for me.”

  “No, he—”

  She shook her head. “I know he was, because I gave him good reason to.”

  He blinked, confused. “What?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, her expression closing off and her hand slipping from his. “But Finn, don’t repeat the other mistake.”

  “The other mistake.”

  “You think Liv’s safe,” she said quietly. “She may even believe she’s safe. But I saw the way she looked at you today. I know that look because I used to look at you that way, too. If all you’re going to do is leave her again, she’s not safe. You’re leading the devil to her doorstep again.”

  Finn’s skin went cold.

  “You said it yourself. Falling for someone makes you reckless. Between you coming back into her world and our stupid letters, just…don’t let her upend her life anymore than she already has. You know better than anyone how hard she’s worked for hers. When you leave, she’s still going to be here. Alone. And now without a job.”

  The icy feeling crawled up into his throat, making his mouth go dry.

  “Hey, you two.”

  Olivia’s bright voice jolted Finn out of the conversation, but the wash of dread remained.

  “Wow, why so serious?” Olivia asked, carrying over a handful of rosemary sprigs and glancing between the two of them. “Everything okay?”

  Rebecca was the first to manage a smile. “Yep. Just catching up and letting my wine wear off so I can head out. I have a long drive back into the city.”

  “Yeah, it’s probably time we head out, too,” Finn said, trying to keep his voice neutral despite his darkening mood.

  “Sounds good. Look, your mom let me steal some rosemary. I’m going to pot it and try to grow my own. I grabbed a few for Kincaid, too. You want some, Bec?” She held out a sprig.

  Rebecca got up and lifted a palm at the offering. “Nope, I can’t be trusted with a plant. I once killed a cactus.”

  Liv laughed. “Wow. That takes effort.”

  “I know. It’s a gift.” Rebecca leaned over and gave Liv a quick hug. “But I’ll see you soon. Call me if you need anything.”

  Liv gave her a curious look, but her smile quickly returned. “Sure. Same here.”

  Rebecca headed out, and Liv turned to him. “Everything cool? She seemed in a hurry to get out of here. Did I interrupt?”

  Finn cleared his throat and stood, tucking his hands in his pockets. “No. Just catching up.”

  She set the rosemary down and hooked her arms around his neck. “So, what’s with the glum look then, Agent Dorsey? We should be celebrating. We survived. No panic attacks. No punching out your dad. I love your sister. And your mom is pretty great. I think she likes me.”

  He let out a breath, unable to resist the pull of her enthusiasm. He kissed the top of her head. “Of course she likes you. You’re amazing.”

  “I know, right?”

  He chuckled despite himself.

  “But next time, we better show up with something better than a dusty bottle of tequila,” she warned. “This isn’t really a margarita crowd.”

  Next time. The words hit him right in the sternum. He leaned back and cupped her face, guilt spreading through him like an oil slick. She looked so happy right now, so confident and content. Hopeful.

  What was he doing, dragging her into this? Bringing her to visit his family? Making her like his mom and vice versa? All when this would probably be the only time she’d ever have a meal here. There would be no next time.

  He’d leave again. Leave his family. Leave her. This was a farce. Playacting. He’d been too much of a coward to face his family on his own, and he’d taken advantage of Liv’s generous spirit. He’d used her. Made it seem like this was real, like this was going somewhere. Even let himself believe it for a little while.

  Just like high school.

  Yes, they’d said all the right words upfront. She knew it was only for the summer, blah, blah, blah. But then he’d shown her something different. Without realizing it, he was doing what he did in his undercover work. Acting as if this was the reality. But it wasn’t. And this time, if he didn’t do something to fix it, the people who could get hurt weren’t the bad guys.

  He was the bad guy.

  chapter

  TWENTY-THREE

  Liv stepped out of the bathroom and found Finn standing at the bedroom window in just his pajama pants, looking out at the trees. Even in profile, she could see the dark look on his face. Since they’d left his parents’ house, he’d been quiet and tense. She hadn’t heard what he and Rebecca were talking about when she’d walked up on them, but she had a feeling it was responsible for his mood.

  She stepped up behind him and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. He inhaled a slow breath and let her wrap her arms around his waist, layering his arms on top.

  “Hey,” he said quietly.

  “Hey.” She pressed her cheek to his back. “Ready to talk about it yet?”

  His muscles shifted against her. “Talk about what?”

  “Whatever it is that has you brooding. Did you decide you’re really into Rebecca instead and need to dump me?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood. “Because I can go back to the guesthouse.”

  “Stop.”

  “Then tell me what’s going on. I can’t even enjoy this sexy view of half-naked man because I can feel sexy man is upset about something.”

  He rubbed his thumb over the top of her knuckles. “I’ve just been thinking.”

  “Ah, a dangerous venture. What about?”

  He continued to stroke her absently, back and forth, back and forth, like he was a million miles away. “About how you’re doing all this stuff from your letter.”

  She frowned, not sure where he was going with this. “What about it?”

  “I know it’s supposed to be about going after what you want. But what is it that you really want? Like have-a-magic-wand-and-make-it-happen want?” He paused, his heartbeat a steady thump against her cheek. “It can’t be this.”

  She lifted her head, wary. “This?”

  He extricated himself from her hold and turned to face her, his eyes searching hers. “Yes. This. Quitting your job and shacking up with some guy who’s at best a temporary distraction and at worst someone who’s going to hurt you and leave you worse off than he found you.”

  She flinched, even though the words were delivered quietly. “That’s what you think you are?”

  “What else could I be, Liv?” he asked in a resigned voice. “I’m a guy who goes on jobs and doesn’t come home for years.
That’s not just what I do. It’s who I am. The mission that got me into the FBI in the first place is still unfinished. That’s what gets me up in the morning. I can’t sleep if I think the bad guys are winning.” He ran a hand over his face, the sudden weariness adding shadows to his features. “I’m not a guy who’s husband material. I’m not going to be a dad. I’m not anything you want or deserve.”

  The warmth of the room faded as a chill crept over her skin. She swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “Whoever said I was looking for a husband or to have kids?”

  His jaw flexed, his gaze finding hers. “You’re telling me you don’t want to?”

  She wet her lips, trying to figure out her feelings and not betray them on her face. “I…don’t know. If you’d asked me a few weeks ago, I would’ve said no without hesitation. I saw what losing my mom did to my dad. I saw all of those parents at Long Acre, how losing their kids destroyed them. Who wants to invite that kind of anguish into their life?”

  “And now?”

  She let out a breath and sank onto the edge of the bed. “Now, I don’t know. A few weeks ago, I also didn’t realize how sterile my life was. Empty of the sad, hard stuff, but also empty of the good stuff. I mean, today, Rebecca Lindt of all people was concerned about me, like genuinely concerned. I can’t think of anyone in my life outside my family who would give a damn if I quit my job or not, if I was making mistakes or not. So even though it’s messier, having someone care or try to interfere, it was also…nice.”

  “Rebecca’s good at interventions,” he said dryly. “She should’ve been a therapist. A bossy therapist.”

  Liv looked up. “Is that what she was doing with you?”

  “She was warning me that I’m going to hurt you again.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “She’s right.”

  Liv’s belly dipped, that familiar feeling of sorrow trying to bubble up, but she tamped it down and forced a small smile. She reached for his hand. “Don’t you think I know that?”

  His frown lines cut deeper.

  “Come on, Finn. I’m not some wide-eyed seventeen-year-old anymore. I realize the high of the happiness I feel this summer with you will come with an equal level of sadness when you leave.” She linked her fingers with his. “But it’s two sides of the same coin. You don’t get to have only one side or the other. You have to put the whole thing in your pocket and take both, or you get nothing at all. I don’t want to live with empty pockets anymore.” She pulled him closer until he was towering over her. “You asked what this is? This is worth both sides to me. You are worth both sides.”