Run From Fear (48 page)

It was now 9:36. Finally Jack was moved and they were allowed access. Most of the group had gone home or, in Susie’s case, back to the restaurant. Only Moreno and Novascelic stayed. It occurred to Talia that maybe she should let them go in first, the two who had carried their fallen friend out of that bunker and fought beside him on so many missions.

She dismissed it nearly as quickly as it formed. As much as she respected their friendship, that was the man she loved in there. The man she was going to marry, now that she’d finally gotten her head on straight and realized the truth that had been staring her in the face forever: Jack Brooks was the best thing that was ever going to happen to her, and if she wanted any chance of happiness, she would grab him with both hands and never let go.

And if she didn’t get to see for herself right now that he was alive, she was pretty sure she was going to break with reality.

In the end it didn’t even come up for discussion. A few minutes after they arrived on the ICU floor, a harried-looking nurse came out into the waiting area. “Are you Talia?”

Talia nodded.

The nurse gave her a wide-eyed look. “He is very anxious to see you.”

She hurried in, and tears flooded her eyes at the sight of him. Propped up in the hospital bed, an oxygen mask covering the lower half of his face, he looked pale and exhausted.

And alive. Beautifully, perfectly alive.

She took the seat next to his bed and took his hand, unable to speak for several moments as she held it to her face. He said something to her, his voice muffled behind the oxygen mask.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “that I didn’t protect you and Rosie.”

Her head snapped back in shock. “Are you insane? If you hadn’t almost died saving my life, I would punch you right now.” In that moment, it all came flooding back, the darkness, the fear, the cold, the pain, the horror of witnessing her sister’s suffering.

But none of that had been as terrible as holding Jack’s bleeding body and thinking that she’d lost him. “If you died, I wouldn’t, I couldn’t—” she gasped, unable to form the words. “And because of me.” She gripped his hand in both of hers and held it to her lips. “I don’t think I could live after that. I know that sounds ridiculous and melodramatic—”

“It’s exactly how I feel. And I will never forgive myself for leaving you vulnerable, no matter what you said or what we thought was going on. When I realized he’d taken you, that I’d failed you all over again…”

She wasn’t about to let him shoulder that guilt. “And
I can kick myself into eternity for having the magical ability to attract a serious kind of crazy. You don’t have anything to feel guilty for.” She felt her mouth pull into a rueful smile. “Once again, I owe you everything.”

He grimaced behind the mask and she felt his hand stiffen in hers. “It’s not like that, dammit—”

“So now it’s time to name your price,” she said, ignoring him. “What will it be? Hot sex every day for the rest of our lives? Maybe a kid or two somewhere down the line? Boys or girls? You get first choice, of course, but I’d really love to have a big, strapping boy who’s as handsome and noble as his daddy.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile and his fingers curled around hers. “I want a gorgeous, tough little girl who can take care of herself like her mama.” He reached up and pulled his mask aside. He curved his hand around her neck, urging her to lie against his chest.

She nuzzled against his hospital gown, felt his sure, steady heartbeat against her cheek. “I love you,” she said.

“I love you too,” he said, his rumbling voice warming her all the way to the tips of her toes. “But for this to work, you’re going to have to accept that I’m going to be protective of you. I’m always going to want to look after you.”

“I know. And I can see, finally, that there’s a big difference between you wanting to protect me and you wanting to control me. Besides,” she said, lifting her head with a little grimace, “I think we’ve established Rosie and I require some amount of looking after. And if you ever tell anyone I said that, I’ll flat out deny it,” she added with a mock glare. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

Three Months Later

Jack pulled his car into Talia’s garage—no, it was
their
garage now, since he’d officially turned the Seattle operations of Gemini Securities over to Alex Novascelic and permanently relocated to the home office two weeks ago.

He felt his mouth pull into a smile when he saw that Talia’s car was here. It was only five-thirty, and in the past few weeks she’d been staying late at Suzette’s as they pushed to get the final touches finished on the repair and expansion.

Apparently she’d taken his grumblings that he’d barely seen her lately as the hint he’d meant them to be. Not only was she working all the time, but also lately she’d been exhausted, stumbling to bed minutes after she walked in the door.

He climbed out of the car and unlocked the door that opened into the kitchen, his smile spreading wider as he reached into his pocket, reassuring him that the small velvet box was still tucked safely inside.

Jack wasn’t overly superstitious, but he took it as a good omen that the ring he’d had made for Talia was ready on the one evening she’d decided to come home early. This was it, he realized with a jolt. The night he was going to ask Talia to marry him.

Earlier this afternoon when Alyssa Taggart had delivered the ring she’d custom designed, Jack’s brain had started spinning with different scenarios of how he’d propose. He had no experience with these things, but he knew that women made a big deal out of it, so he needed to do
something special, unique, something that let Talia know how amazing she was and how much he loved her.

All of that slid away as he opened the door to their home. He knew in that instant that Talia didn’t require any elaborate setups or an expensive dinner that ended up with the ring at the bottom of her champagne glass. There would be no better place or time for him to ask her than now, in the modest house where they’d fallen in love.

Despite his certainty, he felt a layer of cold sweat film his skin and his hands shook a little as he closed the door, and the fear that had plagued every other man who had ever proposed popped into his head.

What if she said no?

Jack shoved it aside. He loved her. She loved him. They belonged together. End of story.

That didn’t stop him from taking a deep, bracing breath before he called out her name when he didn’t immediately see her. “Talia?”

When there was no answer, he called again, the anxious knot in his gut tightening when he registered that not only was she not downstairs, but also the house was eerily quiet, no hum of the TV or music she liked to listen to breaking up the heavy silence.

He ran up the stairs like he had wings on his feet and burst into the bedroom, relief pouring through him when he saw that she was sitting on the side of the bed. She looked up with a startled gasp and his relief disappeared when he got a good look at the expression on her face.

She looked stricken and pale, her eyes puffy and red and damp with tears.

“What is it?” he asked, immediately crossing to her to sit next to her and wrap his arm around her shoulder.
She immediately turned her face into his chest. “Is it Rosie?”

She sniffled and shook her head. “She’s fine. She’s at Caroline and Danny’s,” she replied in a muffled voice.

Jack felt his tension ease a degree, knowing that Rosie was safely at work—she was spending the summer working for Danny and Caroline, helping with Anna and their new baby boy.

“Did something happen?” he asked, careful to conceal the rage that bubbled up at even the thought of anyone daring to fuck with her again.

He felt a damp huff of breath against his chest. “You could say that.”

“What exactly happened? Why didn’t you call me immediately?” he asked, gripping her by the shoulders so he could look into her face. “Did you call the police?”

“It’s not like that,” she said, and sniffed again. A fat tear rolled down her cheek as he watched. “I’m pregnant.”

Her voice was so soft he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. Even so, he jerked as though she’d punched him. “Pregnant?” he asked, barely able to hear himself over the roaring in his ears.

She nodded mutely.

“How?”

“How do you think?” she asked.

At the sharp, sassy tone, Jack snapped from his fog, the initial shock replaced by a warmth that centered somewhere in his chest and spread outward to his entire body.

“No, I mean, how, if you’re on the pill,” he said, his gaze irresistibly drawn to her belly, still flat beneath the soft cotton of her shirt.

He half listened as she said something about missing
a couple pills during all the craziness, the hospital stays and after, as she got Rosie settled in with a good therapist and went back to work. But it was hard to focus when the one thought echoing through his brain was,
My baby. Our baby.

This sharp, sassy, beautiful woman who he loved more than his own life was growing his baby inside her. A wave of happiness hit him with such force he felt his own eyes sting with tears.

“I swear to God I didn’t do this on purpose to, like, trap you or push things along,” she said, looking at the floor as her fingers knit into a tense ball.

Jack moved to kneel on the floor in front of her and cupped her cheek in his hand, tipping her face up until she met his gaze. “I know that. But just so you know, I was already planning to push things along at a pretty good clip.” At her puzzled look, he pulled the velvet-covered box out of his pocket.

Talia gasped as he flipped the box open, revealing a stunning three-carat square-cut sapphire solitaire set in a delicate platinum setting. Her gaze flew to his face. “Is that… are you—”

Jack plucked the ring from the box and took her left hand in his. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

Her only answer was a squeak, but he took the frantic nodding and the enthusiastic way she threw herself into his arms as a yes. He hugged her back, silent for a few moments, his own throat suspiciously tight. “I love you”—he slid his hand down low on her belly—“both of you.”

Her breath caught. “Really?” she whispered. “You’re okay with this?”

He pulled back so she could see him. “Okay? I’m ecstatic.”
And a little scared
, he admitted silently.

“It’s so soon.”

“It’s what we both want, unless you were telling me what I wanted to hear back in the ICU.”

“Of course not, but I wasn’t going to hold you to something you said under the influence of morphine.”

He smiled, brushed his thumb against the silky skin of her cheekbone. “Fine, this is me, stone-cold sober: Talia Vega, I can’t wait to marry you and have a baby with you.”

Her swollen mouth stretched into a shaky grin and warm color replaced her pallor. “Me neither. But I didn’t really expect things to go quite like this.”

Jack bent his head and covered her lips with his, savoring the taste of the woman he loved. Soon to be his wife, the mother of his child. His everything. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, when it comes to us, things rarely go as I expect them to. And so far that’s worked out pretty damned good.”

“Better than good,” she murmured against his mouth, her lips parting to welcome him inside. “Perfect.”

I
t wasn’t quite over yet, but Megan Flynn was 99 percent sure this was going to go down as one of the best days of her life.

And judging from the molten look Cole Williams was giving her across her tiny kitchen table, her perfect day was about to glide seamlessly into a perfect night.

“That was amazing,” he said, leaning back in his chair, relaxed after a day spent on the water, followed by a home-cooked meal of fresh-caught local salmon accompanied by a bottle of Columbia Valley Pinot Noir. His plate was so clean he might have licked it, and Megan felt a ridiculous spurt of feminine pride in having provided a meal he’d so obviously enjoyed.

Megan traced the edge of her wineglass with her finger and gave him a sly smile. “So maybe next time you make salmon you’ll listen to me and not cook it down to a fine dust?”

Cole laughed and leaned across the table to refill her wineglass. “My mom always said you had to cook it enough to kill the bacteria.” He set the bottle down and took her free hand in his, his thumb tracing slow circles in the sensitive hollow of her palm.

Megan took a swallow of wine and smiled. “Since you grew up in a landlocked state, I’ll let you off the hook. But from now on, leave the seafood to us natives. Deal?”

“Deal. I’ll grill the steaks; you do the fish.”

Megan tried not to let herself get too carried away with fantasies of a lifetime of quiet dinners like this and wiped what she knew was a completely moony look off her face.