He wove his fingers through hers. “I never want to wake up alone again.”
Her eyes widened. And he didn’t care that his words sounded like some crazy long-term commitment. Like he wanted her in his life forever.
Because, frankly, that wasn’t long enough.
“Are you really here, or am I on drugs?”
“You’re on drugs. And I’m really here.” She laughed, and he let go of the last of his reserves and pulled her to himself, kissing that smile, that laughter. She tasted of coffee, of sunshine, of fresh starts.
Of wholeness.
She’d braced her hand on his pillow and her hair fell around him, a curtain of gold, as she kissed him back.
Jenny.
He wove his fingers into her silky wet hair.
It struck him that God hadn’t only brought him to the mountain to set him free and make him whole, but . . . to show him his great love, just like Ham said. Because God had given him this moment.
And please, oh please, many, many more just like this.
Orion drank her in, letting go, love sweeping over him. So much that it caught him up, stole his breath.
She must have felt the rush inside him because she leaned back. “Are you okay?”
More okay than he’d been in . . . well, he couldn’t remember when. “I love you, Jenny. I should have told you that before I left . . . before . . .” He shook his head. It didn’t matter anymore.
“You should be wearing your sling.”
“I’m fine, and stop being so bossy.” She touched his face, her fingers in his beard, the other arm close to her body. Then she leaned forward and kissed him.
Okay, then. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her tight against him, raking up the memory of holding her in his arms in the bivouac. She belonged with him, regardless of what name she called herself.
He wanted to call her his.
He knew it sounded like he might be some barbarian from the woods, but she’d rescued him as much as he’d rescued her, and he’d willingly hand over himself to belong to her too.
She eased back, caressing his lips with her thumb, meeting his eyes. “I love you too. And I’m so sorry I ran from you.”
He touched his forehead to hers, fighting a rim of tears. “No more running.”
“No more hiding.”
“No more anger.”
“Let it be over.” She leaned back. “I want a future with you, Ry. And with everything inside me, I’m trying to be brave. To stop being afraid of the past.”
Her words found his heart. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve lived with this anger so long, I’m not sure how to let it go.”
She touched his chest. “I was thinking about something that Ham said.”
Oh boy.
“He said that evil wants to shut us down. Keep us from being the person we are supposed to be.” She drew in a breath. “I’m not strong. Or brave, really. When I had my nervous breakdown, it scared me. I never thought I was fragile, but suddenly, my life seemed to be shattering. The betrayal—and the cost—took me apart. I felt violated and ashamed and I had nothing to hold on to. Inside my head, I just kept screaming. But it didn’t help. It just scared me more. And since then, I’ve been running hard away from the screaming.”
She blew out a breath. “I’ve never told anyone that.”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
She nodded. “Big, actually. Healing.”
Healing. He took her other hand. Met her eyes for a second, then closed his. “God, you did this thing. And we want to trust you for the rest. Forgive us for our anger and our fear. Take over our lives and contend for our hearts so they belong to you alone.”
“And each other,” Jenny whispered.
He drew in a full, free breath and opened his eyes. “And each other.” Slipping his hand around her neck again, he pressed his mouth to hers.
Aw, she tasted like hope.
He let her go and met her eyes. “I promise to contend for your heart, Jenny.”
She blinked at him, then nodded. “And I will contend for yours.”
“That’s an amen if I’ve ever heard one.”
Orion let her go and looked over Jenny’s shoulder. “Geez, Ham, knock much?”
“I told you I’d get you praying.” Ham set a bag on his bedside table. “Good morning. I grabbed you a chocolate-covered donut. It’s one of the team perks—fresh donuts at staff meetings.”
Jenny grabbed the bag and peeked inside. “Two?”
“This offer is for you, too, Jenny.” Ham crossed to the other side of the bed. “We need a profiler, someone who can assess the minds of the people we are working with, as well as the people we’re trying to save.”
She pulled out a donut, handed it to Orion. Licked her fingers. “I’ll think about it.”
“You’ll get to work with Orion.”
“I didn’t agree to join your team yet,” Orion said.
“Yeah, you did. You just didn’t say it out loud.” Ham walked over to the door. “I got someone out in the hall who needs to talk to you.” His expression turned solemn, and his gaze flicked over to Jenny.
Huh?
Orion gave his head a tiny shake as Jenny dove into the bag for the next donut.
Ham lifted a shoulder and opened the door. “He’s a little high, Senator, but glad to see you.”
Senator?
Jenny got off his bed, maybe seeing Orion’s reaction, the way he sat up, straightened his covers.
The silver-haired, former-SEAL, Clooney-lookalike Montana senator walked into the room. He was dressed down for the day in a leather jacket and a pair of jeans. “Orion Starr.” He reached out his hand.
“Senator White. What are you . . .” Orion cast a look at Ham, back to the senator. “Doing here?”
“I have a rally later this morning, then I’m on my way to San Diego for the national conference. But your rescue made the morning’s paper.”
So, it was morning.
“And I wanted to catch up with you about . . .” He glanced at Jenny.
“She knows about Royal. She was . . . she was there. Senator, this is Jenny Calhoun. Former CIA profiler. She worked with us in Afghanistan.” He looked at her. “In fact, she was instrumental in the planning of our mission.” He said it without indictment and she offered him a small smile, then turned to the senator.
Jenny shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir. What is this about Royal?”
“I did some digging. After Petty Officer Benjamin was liberated, he was invited to . . . join another team.”
Orion read between the lines. Black ops, wet work. Something the CIA didn’t want known. “And what better than a guy who is already listed as dead.”
“But as you know, neither Logan Thorne or Royal Benjamin were dead. You already know Thorne’s story—”
“He said the CIA was trying to force him into working for them, so they set him up to take the fall for a Pakistani diplomat,” Orion said. “And I have to believe him. The CIA tends to play games with our lives. Which means maybe Royal was forced into covert ops.”
Jenny wrapped her arms around herself, her mouth tight around the edges.
“My office is looking into those allegations, but for now Thorne is safe.”