“Do you see Dunk being able to handle that lifestyle?”
She winced, the thought making her sad. “No, I think he would burn out very quickly.”
“So, you’d just stay with the orchestra and your students?”
“I have no desire to leave Maine. I don’t even see myself like my parents where I would want to pick up and go with a more prestigious orchestra. I love teaching and would continue to have students. And if Amhrán M'anama disperses or goes international without me, then I might find a few other like-minded Celtic musicians to play with.”
Clay remained quiet, and she could not help but wonder his thoughts. Do I seem too complacent? Not having long-range, lofty goals? Unable to stand the silence, she blurted, “What do you think?”
Surprise crossed his face, and he reared back. “Think?”
She huffed and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “You’re the one who asked me what my goals were, and I told you. I know you don’t have to have an immediate reaction, but I can’t help but wonder if you're disappointed in my answers.”
“Disappointed? Jesus, Christina, I’d never be disappointed in you.”
Now, it was her time to stay silent, giving him a chance to pull his thoughts together. He didn’t make her wait long.
“I asked because I truly wanted to know where you saw your future leading,” he began. “I’d never want to hold you back from your dreams of fame or fortune, concerts all over the world, the chance to spread your music everywhere.” He shifted in his seat, appearing uncomfortable. “I know, though, if that was what you truly wanted, I’d be your biggest supporter. But I also know that it would make it hard.”
“Hard? For us?”
“That makes me sound like an ass, doesn’t it? Even if it was hard, I’d still want to do everything I could to be with you,” he confessed.
She smiled, relief flooding her. “Whew! I want to be with you, too.”
A smile curved his lips, and he leaned forward, brushing his mouth against hers. “I loved the sound of your band, babe, but those guys make me a little nervous. You say you babysit them, but that’s not your job. And I know you try to keep Dunk out of trouble, but that’s not your job either. I just want to make sure that while the five of you are making music, you’re not being taken advantage of.”
“You’re sweet, Clay. Honestly, I think Steven has a harder job. He handles the band, he handles the schedule, he handles the money, and is working on getting an agent.” She scrunched her nose. “Although, I think Mr. Kincaid is helping him out. They were talking the other night, and I only caught a few words, but I think he’s offering to help Steven with an agent. I thought he was just Congressman Bennett’s employee, but I guess he wants to do something besides politics.” She twisted to look at him. “You know, I just remembered what one of the guys said about Steven when he was meeting with the biker dudes.”
“Dudes. Seriously, Christina… dudes.” Giving his head a little shake, he asked, “What was said?”
“That Mr. Kincaid had told Steven to meet up with some others and we thought they were musicians. But I’ve got to tell you that I’ve never seen a group like them!”
“I can’t figure out what makes me more nuts… you think it’s your job to babysit the band a-fuckin-gain or being so reckless that you’d walk up to scary dudes in motorcycle jackets,” he growled.
She opened her mouth to defend herself, but he wasn’t finished.
“I’ve seen the kind of guys you were talking about. I’ve had to take down the kind of guys you were talking about. And believe me, they’d have no problem dragging you in that tent, gagging you, tying you up, and doing whatever the fuck they felt like doing, not giving a shit who was practically five feet away on the outside of the tent.”
His gaze was so intense and his voice so harsh, she swallowed deeply, blinking back the tears. Unsuccessful, one rolled down her cheek. His face fell, and his arms snatched out to pull her close. With her face buried against his chest, he murmured against her hair. “Damn, Christina, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, babe. I never meant… I didn’t want to upset you, but I just… I just… shit.”
She sniffled against the soft material of his shirt and said, “I know what the other women would’ve done.”
At that proclamation, he shifted so that her face was no longer buried but instead held his gaze once again. “What the other women would’ve done?”
“Sara told me. I know that you said that the others met during intense situations or missions, but I didn’t really understand. Sara didn’t go into a lot of detail, but I have to admit I was stunned to find out exactly how they met. As dumb as it sounds, I think I told you about the bikers tonight so that you wouldn’t feel like you were the only one with a wimp.”
His large hands cupped her face and his thumbs swept under her eyes, wiping away any traces of tears. “Christina, I’ve gotten to know you, the real you, and believe me, you’re not a wimp. I’ve fallen for exactly the woman you are… strong, smart, dedicated, talented, hard-working, kind. You don’t have to prove anything to me. And you especially do not need to put yourself in danger thinking that’s the kind of excitement I need in my life. I want you. Safe, sound, and whole.”
She licked her lips, the warmth of his hands seeping deep inside of her, curling around her heart. “You’ve fallen for me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
A slow smile spread across his face. “Yeah. I’ve fallen in love with you. Christina. Tiny. The whole package.”
Her fingers clutched his shoulders, her short nails digging in slightly as she moved to where their lips were only a breath apart. “I love you, too.” Before she had a chance to close the distance, he stood with her in his arms. A surprised squeak accompanied her arms wrapping around his neck as he stalked down the hall to the bedroom. As his lips melded with hers, thoughts of forever moved through her mind.
20
“How are you doing?”
Hearing Blake’s question, Clay leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his hand over his face. Looking around, he spied not only Blake but several of the other Keepers nearby, eyes on him, waiting for his answer.
“I can’t fuckin’ believe that we have a mission involving an FBI-suspected drug runner, and somehow the woman I’m seeing is innocently tangled in this mess.”
With sympathy in his eyes, Blake shook his head. “I know you never wanted to meet someone on a mission—”
“I didn’t meet Christina on a mission. I started a relationship with her that didn’t have anything to do with this. But she’s now firmly in the middle of all these players and yet not part of it. I’m worried about her. Worried about her ending up in Jerry’s sights, worried that Steven will figure out that she knows something’s up, and worried about how all this will play out for us.”
“Damn, for a man who didn’t want any drama in his relationship, looks like you’ve got it,” Drew said.
Clay’s stinging retort died on his lips as soon as he looked at Drew and saw concern, not a smirk on his friend’s face. He sighed again and rubbed the back of his neck where another tension headache was setting up residence.