Jesse heaved out a deep breath and looked to the ceiling, wanting to admit to his sister just how much this was screwing with his head as well. “What do you want me to do? Marry her for real?”
“Yes,” Rory said in a firm voice, and Jesse dropped his focus to her face when she closed in on him.
“You’re crazy.” He tried to sidestep her, but she remained a stubborn blockade, and he grunted in irritation.
“You love her. She loves you. Once you kill this Zoltar guy—”
“Zoran.”
Rory rolled her eyes. “Just take this mothereffer out, and then you two can live happily ever after. Make babies.”
“You don’t get it. There could easily be another Zoltar.” And now she had him saying the wrong name. “Rory.”
“Jesse,” she snapped with extra flair. “There’s always going to be a reason. Chris’s work is dangerous. I know what’s at stake if someone were to identify him. Your job with Falcon could jeopardize a future wife too. But you can’t live in fear of the unknown. Always waiting for something bad to happen.” She was quiet for a moment. “Worrying about what hasn’t happened yet is anxiety.”
“So, maybe I’ve got anxiety,” he hissed in frustration, then turned and opened the door to escape her since she wouldn’t move, but, of course, she followed him out to the patio.
He linked his hands behind his head and stared at the thundering sky overhead, unwilling to let himself think for even a second that he could actually do as Rory suggested.
“Why’d you join the Agency in the first place? Why choose the CIA over Ella?”
Jesse stopped in his tracks but only managed out, “I need to do a perimeter sweep.” He removed his gun from the back of his pants that’d been hidden beneath his shirt, and when he turned to see Rory, her eyes were glued to the weapon.
“Why? Tell me that, and I’ll leave you alone,” she pleaded.
He slid the muzzle of the gun alongside the outer part of his jeans. “Why does it matter? All that matters is that I did it. And you know what depression is? Focusing on a past you can’t change and letting it hurt your present.”
He started to turn, but her next words were like a hammer to the head. “It’s because of Dad. Right? It’s because of him.”
Jesse hung his head and swallowed. At the feel of her hand, he peered over his shoulder at her off to his right. “Like I said, I need to check the property.”
“I remember,” she cried, catching him by surprise. “I buried those memories. I hid them in a dark place in my mind, but I’ve been seeing Chris’s therapist, the one helping him with his post-traumatic stress, and all those memories . . . they came back to me.” Her voice broke, and he knew if he looked at his sister, he’d break too.
“I’m sorry you remember,” he whispered. “I had hoped you never would.”
Chapter Ten
Ella pulled on her nightshirt and peered at her reflection in the mirror above the dresser in Jesse’s guest room. Yesterday, he’d declared she was going to stay with him—for her own safety, of course. He’d acted like they were evacuating a disaster zone, forcing her to stuff clothes into a bag as fast as possible, so she’d just grabbed things without much thought. But of all the nightshirts, what were the chances she’d pick up this one?
“Cowgirls Do It Better” written in pink cursive on the front of a black tee. It was the very same shirt she’d had on that first night in New York three years ago. Well, it hadn’t been on long before she’d boldly chucked it.
A shiver ran down her spine at the memory of the hungry look in his eyes when she’d stood before him in nothing but her red panties that night.
Did he still remember her curves? Her body’s response to his touch? She knew he remembered the fact she’d told him she usually slept in only a tank top and underwear.
Ella lifted her shirt and eyed the red panties. The lust in Jesse’s eyes when he saw them earlier that day had her thighs squeezing together. Maybe the passion they’d had in New York had never burned out? Maybe he still felt the same way? His body, at least, seemed to respond to hers.
When he’d caught up to her on horseback yesterday, and they’d taken a tumble in the field, it didn’t take but a second for his dick to get hard after she fell on top of him. And when she’d asked him to kiss her, right before her mom showed up, he’d been stiff, unable to hide his erection.
Ella slipped a hand under the hem of her panties and found her sex soaked. Just thinking about that infuriating man managed to turn her on.
How many times had she gone out of her way to avoid him over the past three years, not always because of anger, but because the sexual tension was so great she’d worried she’d lose her control? And after every one of those encounters, she’d needed to get herself off or risk losing her ever-loving mind.
Even now, thinking about him had her crooking a finger over her sensitive spot, watching herself in the mirror and wishing it was his hand touching her. She drummed up one of her many fantasies, a particular favorite that began with angry-sex and quickly turned into a full-on passionate inferno.
“What am I doing?” She pulled her hand from her panties and straightened her nightshirt. I’m losing my mind.
She grabbed a pair of sweats and decided to face Jesse. Maybe get the kiss over with? The idea of his mouth touching hers had her heart beating faster as she opened the bedroom door.
Muffled voices trickled out from the kitchen down the hall, but the door to Jesse’s bedroom across from hers was closed, so she hoped he was in his room and not working with his team.
They both ought to get some shut-eye since it was now two in the morning, and they were getting hitched later that day. But she doubted he was able to sleep, same as her, though their reasons for being wide-awake and wired were most likely very different.
After lightly tapping on the door and getting no response, she turned the knob and found it unlocked. Letting go of a long exhale, she quietly entered the room. The bed was still made, and a glance out the open French door showed he was outside on his private patio, his back to her as he stood beyond the overhang in the rain.
He looked drenched, and he had to be freezing. It was barely forty degrees out. What in the hell was he thinking? Was he losing his mind like she was?
Ella quickly shut the door and locked it to prevent them from being interrupted, then walked with slow, steady steps across the room. Chills spread over her arms as she neared the open door and was hit by the cold, along with a few raindrops that blew in with the wind.
“Jesse,” she whispered. She barely heard her own voice over the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
His shoulders fell, indicating he was aware of her presence. But when he pivoted to face her, she startled at the sight of him—soaking wet and miserable. He moved onto the patio for cover, and the small porch light illuminated his face in more detail.
“What are you . . .” His words faded into the cold air as his gaze roamed over her nightshirt. “Did you wear that to fuck with me?” he growled. “Not that you don’t have every right to screw with my head, but—”