And why did that thought disappoint her so much? After everything she’d heard between Zoey and Carter, was there something wrong with her to even still want sex?
Because it’s not about sex. She needed the emotional connection being with him gave her. The comfort and security of his embrace. The way he made all the bad disappear when his eyes were set on hers.
“Why’d you leave me?” she asked gently, tipping her head. Although based on his odd behavior since the phone call with Thatcher—the uncharacteristic fidgeting and now sitting in the snow drinking straight from the bottle—she wasn’t sure he’d answer.
“I didn’t leave you. I just needed, um.”
What, what do you need that you don’t want to tell me? Ella set a hand to his knee, and he lowered the bottle from his mouth to silently peer at her.
“Well, you going to share or not?” She held out her hand for the bottle and gave him a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood a bit and ease the storm of thoughts in his head.
He studied her, mouth twisted to the side like the question needed serious consideration, but then his lips curled into a grin, and he handed over the bottle. “We drank this in New York. Remember?”
“How could I forget any part of that weekend?” The whiskey burned her throat but was effective in warming her chest. She licked her lips, catching a drop there before handing it back to him.
His smile slipped at her confession, and he lifted his eyes to the starry sky.
“Carter’s right,” Jesse said solemnly, returning his focus to her.
Those two words knocked the wind from her lungs and brought her to her knees on the snowy ground. She’d feared this would happen. That he would eventually backpedal from what he’d said in the bathroom earlier because he was terrified she’d become “collateral damage.”
She had to take the situation by the horns before Jesse ran with it—not in the direction she wanted to go. Not this time. Not anymore. You want that middle place, remember?
“Just because Carter is right about the job being dangerous doesn’t mean he’s prophetic. It doesn’t mean I’ll die because . . .” Because of your past. Or your future with Falcon. “I thought you and I were making progress.” She leaned forward, grabbed hold of his free hand, and squeezed. “What you said to me in the shower and—”
“I meant every word,” he rasped, letting the bottle in his other hand slip to the ground. “But I can’t change the fact I’m terrified something will happen to you because of me.”
“I don’t know if I made this clear,” Ella began around a sniffle, “but I accept you for who you are and who you were. And I want you. Every part of you. All of it.” Her tears fell freely now as Jesse pulled her onto his lap. “I just want you, and I don’t care about anything else. Please, please don’t run from me. Not again.”
“Oh fuck, Ella.” He closed his eyes, rested his forehead against hers, and sighed, his chilly hands caressing her face. “I don’t deserve you, but I don’t want to give you up.”
She eased back and placed her palm to his cheek, prompting him to lift his gaze to hers, and when his beautiful blue eyes met hers, she cried, “I sure as hell won’t let you give me up . . . and you know how damn stubborn I am.”
His response was a tender kiss, which she hoped meant he was ready to let go of his worries and allow himself to be with her.
He pulled back only to lean in again and give her a quick peck on the lips. This time when he drew back, his attention shifted to one of the windows, to where the team appeared to be reassembling in the living room. “I guess we should go inside and hear the verdict.” Jesse stood and reached down to help her stand, and she brushed the snow from the knees of her sweats, but they were wet now anyway.
After snatching up the almost empty bottle from the ground, he hooked her arm with his and they crossed through the courtyard.
“Carter blames himself,” Jesse said before they reached the door. “He may not have acted like it, but I can tell he feels responsible for the death of Zoey’s fiancé.”
“I can’t imagine having to leave someone behind knowing they would undoubtedly die,” she softly said as he unlinked their arms to open the door.
“It’s the last thing anyone in the Army ever wants. Dying is better than being the only one to come home.” His voice was strained, and she knew he was speaking from an unbearable experience, and possibly more than one time.
Opening the door, he ushered Ella inside to the sound of Gray in the living room, adamantly declaring, “She’s staying.”
“Like hell she is,” Carter growled back at Gray, the two men face-to-face and Zoey nowhere in sight.
Jesse placed the bottle on the bar and motioned for Ella to have a seat on the couch, then sat beside her and fidgeted with his hat a few times before parking it on his knee.
“I won’t die,” Zoey announced, striding into the room, wheeling a Louis Vuitton suitcase behind her. “I’m an asset. Not a liability,” she said, opening her palm to reveal the USB.
Carter didn’t turn to see that she’d just offered the USB as an olive branch, but Sydney didn’t hesitate. She made it to Zoey in three quick strides and had the USB inserted into a laptop within seconds.
“Am I your plan?” Carter turned and asked. “The bait to finally get your mark?”
“That’s the CIA’s plan.” Zoey pointed skyward, which Ella assumed was a reference to the Agency’s drone. “Not mine. I say we focus on Zoran Mestrović and his last known whereabouts. We find leverage to draw him out. We find him, and I think we can get to Yuri,” she countered in a calm tone.
“Yuri won’t have shown his face to Zoran. You’re grasping at straws, like always,” Carter answered, his clipped tone not as fierce as before, but he was still working his jaw a bit hard.
“Do you know where Zoran has been aside from Bulgaria?” Jesse joined in, most likely because Zoran was the reason they were there in the first place, and until he was dealt with, Ella was in danger.
“Zoey doesn’t know.” Carter pinned her with an icy glare. “Do you?” he challenged.
“Between your team and what I know, we can figure it out.” Zoey didn’t falter, not a damn bit. And maybe she could help? “You’re right that Zoran has most likely never seen Yuri’s face, which could be to our advantage. Yuri’s team of men, however, have. We can track the team sent to assist Zoran in his revenge plot back to Yuri.”
“What do we actually know about Yuri?” Jesse asked.
And the hat was back on Jesse’s head again. Fidgety, and yet somehow, still focused as he waited for an answer.
“Facts, not the rumors circulating about him,” Jack added, looking at Jesse briefly before focusing back on Zoey.
“Real name is Yuri Kuzmin. He was born in the Chechen Republic in 1978. His father fought in the First Chechen War in the mid-nineties. The Russians had tried to take Chechnya back after it declared its independence in ninety-one.” Zoey shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat and kept her gaze steady on Jack. He seemed the most agreeable to Zoey assisting them, and Ella assumed Carter already knew this information. “Yuri was sixteen when his father and mother died in a bombing during the war, and that year marked his first time taking a life. The next four years are all based on rumors and legend. So we can’t confirm. But the stories say Yuri killed as many as fifty Russians during that time period, stealing from them as well to survive. And that’s when he earned his name as The Chechen. A name the Russians began to fear after that.”