The Taken One

Book 4: Falcon Falls Security

by Brittney Sahin

Genres: Military Romance; Romantic Suspense

Synopsis

From Wall Street Journal bestselling author Brittney Sahin comes a thrilling new standalone second-chance romantic suspense featuring a grumpy wounded warrior and the sunshine-to-his-gloomy-skies he never got over.

 

When Tessa finds herself in a foreign country with no clue how she got there, it’s just her luck that the only person who can help her . . . is the same man who once broke her heart.

 

Gray Chandler, co-founder of Falcon Falls Security, was given a second chance at life after a helicopter crash in the Army. What he never expected was to fall for his physical therapist—his colonel’s off-limits daughter.

 

After sharing one hot night with Tessa, he promised himself he’d move on and never look back. But thirteen years later, her late-night call for help sends him on a mission like no other. And this time, there’s no turning his back on her or his feelings.

 

Tessa Sloane never forgot her first physical therapy patient back in college. The handsome, rugged, and stubborn Green Beret had been a challenge, but he also stole her heart. Only to break it, leaving her unlucky in love ever since.

 

When Tessa bumps into Gray in her thirties, and is in need of a rescue, she’s surprised it feels as though their summer together was only yesterday. And their sizzling-hot chemistry is even stronger than before.

 

But in the face of danger, where old friends become new enemies, and lies and betrayal are at every corner, Gray and Tessa quickly realize “what can go wrong will.”

 

No longer the broken man Gray thought he was, he’ll do whatever it takes to save Tessa . . . even if it means sacrificing their second chance at forever.

Release date: March 31, 2023

Reader says this book is...: action-packed (1) emotionally riveting (1) happily ever after (1) heartwarming (1) realistic characters (1) strong chemistry (1) suspenseful (1)

Sample

PROLOGUE

Summer 2010 - Thirteen Years Ago - Washington, D.C.

She leaves tomorrow. And now of all days, I find out that . . . Gray allowed the thought to circle down the drain, remembering he was at a bar to numb the pain, not aggravate it.

But the second glass of whiskey had yet to ease the band of discomfort stretching tight in his stomach. The pain reminded him of his days as a teenager in Dallas, when he’d belly flop into his pool, trying to prepare himself for becoming a SEAL.

Not that he wound up going that route, but thanks to his stupidity, he could outswim most men in his battalion. Well, I could swim. Now I have to learn how to do that all over again too.

“And you don’t think there’s a chance Tessa didn’t make the connection?” Jack asked.

Gray looked over at his best friend sitting beside him. They were at a whiskey bar in Brightwood, a neighborhood in the northwest part of D.C., not far from Walter Reed Army Medical Center. He’d spent most of his summer in rehab there after his accident almost four months ago. “You’re not serious, right?”

“I guess I can see why she wouldn’t want you to know,” Jack said with a shrug. “Conflict of interest.” He raised his glass to his lips, his eyes moving to the wall of whiskey behind the bar. “And not for nothing, but when I couldn’t get through to you, she did.”

Gray grumbled, thinking about the first time he’d met Tessa. Two months ago, his physical therapist, Terrance, had introduced her as a “PT hopeful,” there to shadow him and learn from the best. And yeah, Terrance was one of the best. I’m walking because of him. And, well, because of Tessa too.

When Gray had first set eyes on her, he’d grunted and demanded she work with someone else. He didn’t need some gorgeous young woman with big brown eyes pitying him. She had too much pep in her step, while he was lucky to take three steps without pausing for a deep breath. Hell, the woman even drew hearts around her name on her temporary ID badge.

No, he’d decided on the spot it’d be a piss-poor idea to work with her. He may not have been a Navy man, but he inherited his “sailor’s mouth” from his father. One that he could use freely around Terrance, a veteran himself, but not around Tessa. Her sweet, innocent ears wouldn’t be able to handle his daily string of fucks when he tried to stand or walk. Not to mention his strong Texan mother would have his ass if she heard him talk like that around a woman. And he doubted he’d be able to bite his tongue and not curse when shit got hard. Because it HAD been hard. Every hour of every day since his accident in April.

“I asked her flat out,” Gray finally revealed, thinking back to when he first noticed Tessa’s name badge when they’d met. “I said, and I quote, ‘Please tell me God doesn’t hate me that much, and you’re not related to THAT Sloane. You’re not his daughter, are you?’”

Jack set down his glass and swiveled on the seat to face Gray, resting his forearm on the bar top. “Well, in her defense, you told her not to tell you.”

The slight twitch of his friend’s lips had Gray tipping his head, eyes moving to the ceiling as he released a harsh breath. He was doing his best to ignore the pain creeping up on him, this time in his leg.

“I remember Sloane mentioning he had kids,” Jack continued, “but—”

“Well, Tessa’s not a kid. She’s twenty-one.” Gray dropped his attention to his whiskey glass, debating a third. “Barely twenty-one,” he added, frustrated at that fact.

“That’s not that young. Besides, you’re only twenty-eight.” Jack chuckled. “It’s not like you’re her old man’s age.”

She was still too young for him. Not that anything had happened between them. But over the summer, he’d nearly crossed the line more times than he’d like to admit. Tessa didn’t work for the hospital, so the doctor-patient lines were a bit blurry.  And since she was only in D.C. for her shadowing hours, they’d decided to hang out after hours, even though she drove him crazy ninety-nine percent of the time.

But she was leaving tomorrow. Heading to Boston for grad school to start her life. And I’m going . . . where?

Forever and a day ago, he’d known where he was going.

To the Army.

Jack had given him the idea to change course and not follow in his father’s footsteps in becoming a sailor. And his father had almost punched Jack in the face after Gray’s accident.

“He’d still have two feet if he’d joined the Navy, like he should’ve, instead of listening to you,” his father had barked at Jack while by Gray’s hospital bed. There’d been tears in his eyes that day and Gray couldn’t help but wonder . . . had he ever witnessed his father cry before then? 

He knew his father didn’t truly blame Jack for what happened. He just wanted a targeted enemy. Someone he could unleash hell upon. And Jack had been willing to take the verbal beating if it’d make Gray’s father feel better.

Gray swung his attention back toward his friend, doing the math in his head again. Twenty-eight minus twenty-one . . . fuck. Every time he analyzed it, the numbers kept coming out ass backward. Sure, he was only seven years older, but his body felt more like that difference was closer to fourteen. “So, what’s your point?”

“I actually forgot my point.” He smirked. “But what I do know is on the days when your family and friends couldn’t be there for you, she was. Terrance is great and all, but if I’m being honest, Tessa motivated you in ways he couldn’t.” He lifted his brows a few times, his insinuation not lost on Gray. “So, maybe don’t be mad at her for withholding the truth about her father. You needed her. I’m glad she didn’t retreat when you tried to get her to quit on you.”

And he’d tried damn hard to get her to bow out too. That first month with her, he’d been a total asshole eight out of seven days a week. But Tessa, with her bubbly personality, and adorable klutziness, dug her heels in and refused to leave.

Not that he’d ever seen her in heels. Occasionally, his imagination would run wild with images of her naked, wearing only blue stilettos that matched her ridiculous blueberry-scented lip balm. He hadn’t even known scented lip balms were a thing until her. But the number of times he’d nearly kissed her to see if her lips tasted the way they smelled had been one too many.

“It’s not like my lips are blue. They just smell like blueberries.” She’d brushed off his complaint after he’d grunted his frustration with her choice in lip wear. He wasn’t angry with her; he’d really just been pissed he couldn’t stop staring at her mouth during their PT sessions. “And what do you have against blueberries anyway?” she’d asked while waving an arm around in an overly dramatic but adorable way.

“And why do you like them so much?” he’d growled back during one of his less-than-stellar assholery days. He’d been angry with her because she kept giving him the will to live when he’d been content to “just survive” in a foggy state of misery.

“Maybe don’t even mention the fact you know when you go to say goodbye?” Jack interrupted his memories, snagging him back to the present issue: Tessa had lied.

“Who says I’m still going to see her?” Gray sloshed the liquid around in his glass before finishing his drink.

Jack shot him a smug look. “Oh, I don’t know, because you’re not a dick. And we’re at a bar two blocks from where she’s been living this summer.”

“First of all, I am a dick. Second, we’re here because”—Gray lifted his now-empty glass—“this is one of the few bars that never fails to carry Buffalo Trace. We’re not here because she’s down the street packing, preparing to leave me.”

Jack’s mouth rounded into a smartass O, and Gray lowered his head, realizing his Freudian slip.

“Don’t say it,” Gray warned, his free hand going to his leg, hating the throb there. Would he ever get used to what happened?

“Listen, I’ve known you for almost two decades, and there’s not a chance in hell you’ll let Tessa leave without seeing her off.”

“Yeah, and what makes you say that?” Gray set down the glass and went for his wallet, deciding against a third round, but Jack beat him to it, paying the check first.

“Because Tessa’s the only woman you’ve never compared to your West Point ex-girlfriend. And you’ve dated a lot of women since her. You don’t have the Romeo call sign for nothing, man.” He grinned. “That lack of comparison has to mean something, don’t you think?”

Sydney? Why in the hell was he bringing up her? “Tessa’s a friend. Maybe not even that. She was just babysitting me at the clinic for her hours. We just . . . got to know each other during that time. She likes to talk. In fact, she never shuts up. That’s the only reason I know every detail about the woman.” He cursed. “Except that her father’s the colonel.” Was his colonel. I’m out now. “She left that part out.”

Jack tossed back the rest of his whiskey and set his hands on the mahogany bar top. “The woman drives you nuts because you like her.”

“Yeah, that makes no sense.” He shifted his ass around on the seat, holding the counter for support, then adjusted his leg in preparation to stand, still not used to the prosthesis. At least he’d been able to ditch the crutch.

He tried to tell himself one day he’d forget it was there, and he’d just be . . . himself, but he had no clue when that day would come.

“So, if she’s a glorified babysitter, why’d you ask her to hang out these last few weeks? And why are you so upset about her old man?”

“Did you drive all the way here just to irritate the hell out of me?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Jack winked.

Gray rolled his eyes and tossed a quick look around the bar. An old habit, but he always liked to clock everyone in the room. He never knew if someone might turn into an enemy. The place was pretty dead since it wasn’t even seventeen hundred hours yet, and most people were still at work. 

His gaze landed on a woman sitting alone at a nearby table. Her eyes were focused on his jeans as if she knew something was off.

While the specially designed pants fit over the prosthesis, they didn’t hide the awkward bulk from the socket; a dead giveaway he was different. But he hated the scared looks he got from kids (and hell, adults too) while wearing shorts, so he regularly opted for pants. 

“Let them call you a machine. A robot. Don’t hide the leg. Different is interesting. Hell, maybe you can get more chicks with that thing. Some sympathy fucks,” his childhood friend, Dale, had told him last month when visiting.

“Thanks, but I don’t want or need anyone’s sympathy. Fucks included,” Gray had grumbled back.

Gray did his best to push away the emotions trying to choke him and fixed his attention back on Jack. What had they been talking about? Right. Tessa.

“So, tell me. Why, oh why, did you choose to spend more time than necessary with her?” Jack pressed.

“I was hungry one night,” Gray offered up a bullshit excuse. “Thought she might be too. So we ate.” He clutched his thigh, hating the pain below the knee that wasn’t there and only in his head. Fuck phantom pain.

“And that turned into an every-night ritual with you two, followed by her—”

“Forcing me to walk around places.” Like Blockbuster. The woman acted as though she could never decide whether to watch a romantic comedy or a horror film. There was never an in-between with her.

Was she indecisive? Sure. But he knew she liked to push him to his limits, believing him capable of giving her more than he did back at the hospital. So, laps around the store three times a week to choose a movie had become part of her routine for him. Not that she ever admitted it.

“My advice is to forget what you learned about her father and go see her. She’s officially done with her PT shadow hours, and is no longer off-limits, so maybe now is the time you test out your third leg.” Jack stood and offered his arm to help Gray rise, but he stubbornly resisted and managed himself.

“I’m not sleeping with Tessa.” Instead, he would just continue to have fantasies about pinning her to every surface of his temporary D.C. digs. Fantasies where she wore only stilettos and matching blueberry lip balm. Or was it ChapStick? Whatever it was called, he’d visualized kissing it free from her lips, then sinking his mouth between her thighs and kissing her there as well.

“But you want to,” Jack, the know-it-all, commented.

“Have you heard nothing I’ve said?”

“No, but I was listening to your obnoxiously loud internal monologue.” Jack elbowed him. “I mean, fuck, turn down the volume on those thoughts if you don’t want me hearing them.”

“Screw you.” Not that you’re wrong. Gray started to walk but faltered, slamming his hand onto a nearby high-top table to balance himself. Shit. He inhaled through his nose and gave himself a second before freeing the breath to try walking again.

“But seriously, I know what you want. Or should I say who you want?” Jack tapped Gray’s back twice once they were on the street, and the harsh August sunlight had them both grabbing their shades. “So, I’m heading to the hotel to call my wife so she can yell at me again because it’s always something these days, and you’re going to Tessa’s.”

“Things still not good with Jill?”

“She wants me to quit, you know that. Do the civilian-life thing. Try real estate if you can believe that.” He leaned against the building, folding his arms. “Can you imagine me selling houses? I know how to breach properties. Blow shit up. Kill people if I have to. But have an open house, smile, and talk about square footage and school districts with random people? Hell no.”

The idea was comical. But historically, what Jill wanted, Jill got.

“Is she worried what happened to me will happen to you?”

“I’m only ten years in. I’m not done. I didn’t bust my ass to get the Girl Scout hat,” Jack began in a teasing voice, “just to get out now.”

Army Special Forces. AKA, the Green Berets. America’s quiet professionals. Unconventional warfare to get shit done for the military. That’d been Gray’s life too. And now I’m on disability. I’m done.

“Shit, I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t have said that,” Jack apologized. “I know you’d operate another twenty years if you could.”

“Look, I’m lucky to be alive, right? I’m fine. I’ll figure something out.” Maybe those lines were a bit rehearsed, but he’d quickly realized his family and friends worried too much about him when he said anything dark. They’d poke and prod with concern if he didn’t act optimistic. Of course there’d been some bad days. Weeks, really. But he had Tessa reminding him at every turn he was a fighter, so he did his best to be one. Even on the days he wanted to give up.

“Well, I’m planning to swing by your place in the morning before I head out. I’m spinning back up for an unknown amount of time.” Jack reached for his shoulder, ignoring a few people passing them on the street. “But if you’re not there because you’ve opted for a sleepover with Tessa, consider this my goodbye, just in case.”

“Not going to lie, I’m jealous you’re operating. There. I said it.” Gray set his back to the building, needing the support. He wasn’t used to standing in one place for too long. “Charlie Company just got back from a five-month deployment. So I know you’re not attaching with them. What’s the op?”

Jack’s focus moved to the ground between them, and he smoothed a hand over his beard. A beard was often viewed as a status symbol in special operations since most soldiers had to be clean-cut. “I have orders not to tell you until after the mission is complete.” His shoulders fell with the obvious weight he was holding, and now Gray knew why his best friend had popped in for the impromptu visit. “But fuck it.”

Gray’s heart jumped into his throat, and he nearly lost his balance. Thank God for the brick wall behind him. “You’re going after them, aren’t you?”

Jack slowly looked up. “The Agency secured actionable intelligence. We have a location for their base of operation in the Helmand Province. And I’m going to kill them for what they did to you. Every last one of them.”

“Is that why the colonel randomly showed up today? He hasn’t shown his face to me since TK.”

TK, or Tarinkot, had been the base in southern Afghanistan with the closest level-one trauma center to his accident. From what Gray was told, the medevac pilots barely had time to land their Black Hawk before being called away to try and save another wounded warrior.

Gray had watched the news all summer, and it was being dubbed by the media as one of the deadliest years for special operations in Afghanistan. Of course, Gray had witnessed it firsthand, so it wasn’t new information to him.

“He should’ve visited you sooner.” Jack shook his head. “All I know is we’ll get justice.”

“I don’t care about me. I care about the Rangers who died that day. Get vengeance for them. For their families.” He removed his glasses to look his friend in the eyes.

Jack shoved his shades into his hair as he promised, “You have my word.”

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Gray stood outside Tessa’s place, staring at the number 3 on the blue door of her temporary home. Even her door was blue. Of course, it would be. She was the sunshine to his gloomy skies. And the reason for my blue balls.

But Jack had been right, and he couldn’t let her leave without saying goodbye. He just couldn’t decide if he planned to share the fact the colonel visited him today.

“My daughter worked here this summer. Shadowing a PT,” Colonel Sloane had mentioned in their conversation, and then Terrance spoke up and shared that Tessa had worked with Gray. And Gray’s world had flipped upside down. He’d actually lost his balance and fallen, and Terrance and the colonel had helped him sit.

“Of all the PTs she could’ve matched with, she wound up with yours? God sure hates me, huh?” Sloane had said once realization struck.

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Gray had responded. Whatever Sloane had planned to say after that, it never came. He doubted it would’ve been an apology. Sloane commanded a brigade of over four thousand men. He had to make tough calls. But in Gray’s mind, he’d made the wrong call in April.

Gray let go of a heavy breath, preparing himself to knock, but the door swung open before he had a chance, and he found himself facing Colonel Sloane.

Murphy’s Law: anything that can go wrong will go wrong. The guys on Gray’s team had their top-ten rules they’d dubbed Murphy’s Laws of Combat, hanging up at their last FOB, forward operating base. And all ten popped to mind at the sight of the colonel before him.

“Shit,” Gray mumbled, the thought meant to stay trapped behind the walls of his mind.

Sloane held the door open with his palm, his green eyes landing tightly on Gray, a gruff breath falling from his lips. The colonel resembled the actor, Liam Neeson, and when the movie Taken came out in 2008, every guy on base referred to the colonel by the movie character’s name when talking shit about him. Even though Sloane was American born and devoid of a foreign accent, he would forever be “Bryan Mills” in Gray’s mind.

“What are you doing here?” Sloane asked as Tessa appeared, ducking under his arm.

Wearing a plain pink scoop-neck tee partially tucked into a pair of frayed jean shorts, Gray did his best not to allow his focus to wander to her long, tanned legs. Shit, how do I explain this?

“Right,” the colonel blurted out, letting go of the door, but Gray caught it, stopping it from closing. “I’m leaving, and he’s walking me out.” He kissed Tessa on the cheek, then added, “I’ll be gone for at least two months. I’ll check up on you in Boston when I get back.” And with that, he stepped into the hall with Gray, tipping his head as a directive for Gray to follow him.

Tessa bit her lip, lacking any gloss tonight, as her brows slanted over her apologetic brown eyes. He nodded, unsure what for, then proceeded to follow the colonel down the hall and into the parking lot.

“You mind telling me what you’re doing here? Her shadowing your PT is one thing; you feeling friendly enough to visit my daughter after hours is quite another.” His palm hit the sleek black frame of the SUV, his eyes catching Gray’s in the window’s reflection.

“I don’t see how that’s your business.” He was no longer under his command, so why not speak his mind?

That had Sloane about-facing, turning quickly toward him. “What you do with my daughter is sure as fuck my business, son.”

“I’m not your son. Not your anything for that matter. Not anymore,” he attacked back, hoping he could remain standing without grabbing hold of his leg as pain shot down his thigh. Not that he’d regularly worked with the colonel given how high up Sloane was in the chain of command, but still . . .

Sloane cupped his mouth, eyes surrendering to the sky as if resisting the impulse to pull rank on him, knowing it damn well no longer mattered.

“Stay away from my daughter, Gray.” The finger-pointing came next. Right to his chest. “Do I make myself clear?”

Crystal fucking clear, Gray kept his sarcastic comment to himself. Number three on Murphy’s Laws of Combat back at his last FOB: If the enemy is in range, so are you. And right now, that enemy was Tessa’s dear old dad. “Lima Charlie,” he said, military parlance for loud and clear.

“Boy, it’s like you woke up today and thought, today is a good day to . . .”

Gray interrupted the colonel’s borderline snarl, “To die?” He cocked his head, forgetting the pain in his leg, and he felt Tessa watching them between the blinds. Sloane must’ve realized the same because he backed up, removing his finger from his chest. “I did die. For thirty seconds that day,” he reminded him. “But you know that, right? Read the report.” His hands tensed at his sides as he tried not to walk through the messed-up events of his team’s mission from that day during his last deployment.

But as much as he tried to resist, the memories were like a bright, hot flash of light in his head. They made it hard to see straight. To see the man before him.

“You blame me for what happened?” Sloane scoffed. “You’re kidding me, right?” He shook his head.

His words knocked Gray back to the present. “My captain sure as hell didn’t tell us to stand down, but I know his orders came from above. From you.” Gray jutted out his chin. “We could’ve made it. We could’ve saved those men. We were the closest element to them and already in the air. You ordered my men to stand down and leave them there to die.”

“You wouldn’t have made it in time, and we would’ve been burying more bodies had we given you the green light to assist. And believe me, I’ve had words with our point man at the Agency for the bad intel he gave us. I’ll have to live with the fact those Rangers were ever out there in the first place because of it.” Another pointed finger. “But my decision to turn your ass back around—”

“Caused our helicopter to get shot down.” Gray gripped his leg. “Had we kept moving forward, maybe I wouldn’t have a prosthesis?” And he still believed those men may not have died, and that was what haunted him the most. Gray had attempted to convince the pilot to ignore orders, but the pilot never had a chance to defy them. They took a hit and went down. “But you know what really pisses me off? You were willing to risk sending a Black Hawk to medevac me to safety as if my life mattered more than those Rangers on the ground.”

The colonel, who’d only recently earned that rank before Gray’s last deployment, shot him a dark look as if he’d been insulted and wanted his pound of flesh.

“My life wasn’t more valuable than theirs just because the government spent more money on my training.” Gray angled his head. “I also can’t help but wonder if it’s because of my father that our bird was ordered to turn around in the first place.”

“Your father is a rear admiral. We all know he’ll wind up as close to the White House as he can get one day,” Sloane bit back. “But my decision had nothing to do with your father’s rank. Trust me.” Sloane lowered his arm to his side. “I’m done with this conversation. And you need to move on and forget what happened.”

Move on? Was he kidding? “I can barely fucking move.” A dark, angry laugh left his lips.

Sloane jerked a thumb toward the apartment. “Which is exactly why you need to leave my daughter alone. She’s young. Has her whole life ahead of her. The last thing she needs is a man in uniform taking a wrecking ball to her life the way . . .”

Let me guess, like you did to your ex-wife’s life? But he managed to keep that thought locked up as well. “Sir, there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop me from going back in that building when you drive away,” he said as “lima charlie” as possible. “Also, she’s only a friend.”

“Took me all of two seconds to see the way she looked at you to know you’re full of shit.” He slammed his hands to his hips, still in uniform, probably since he’d visited Walter Reed earlier. That place could often feel like a fish tank with the glass walls and constant barrage of celebrities, not to mention the brass like Sloane, walking through looking at the patients.

Gray replayed the colonel’s words, allowing them to sink in. Wait, how’d she look at me? “I came to get her off.” Shit. “See her off. To say goodbye.” Sloane didn’t deserve the truth, but he went ahead and gave it to him anyway. “Tessa’s a grown woman. She can be friends with whoever she wants.”

“No way will you just be friends. You’ll draw her in, then ruin her life.” Sloane opened his door and slid into the driver’s seat before fixing Gray with one last stare. “If you don’t want to hurt her, stay away from her.” And with that, he slammed the door of his vehicle, the conversation over. Gray waited for him to leave and went inside to confront the woman who really did drive him nuts.

As he’d expected, Tessa was waiting for him in the doorway. The distraught look on her face was the last thing he wanted to see. “I’m so sorry.” Her words were soft. A breeze carrying her whisper to him.

“Can I come in?” He set a hand on the wall outside her door, needing the support.

Her brows lifted. “You still want to?”

Gray nodded and quietly followed her in. He only made it as far as the foyer before he had to catch the wall at his side for a break.

“You should sit,” she urged, her eyes going to his leg.

“I’m good,” he croaked out the lie. A lie for so many reasons. Because Jack was right. He did have feelings for Tessa that went beyond friendship. But Sloane was also right. He’d ruin this woman’s life if he followed through with them. “I’m only going to be a second.” It was easier to stay standing than sitting just to get back up.

“I wanted to tell you so many times.” She tucked her brownish-blonde hair behind her ears, revealing the small diamond studs that her mother had given her for her birthday—a fact he knew because she really had told him almost everything.

“You lied to me on day one, Tessa. I asked you.” His voice was hoarse after his confrontation with her father.

Her eyes fell to the distressed floors. “You would’ve made me work with someone other than Terrance.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He waited for her eyes to meet his again. Three long seconds later, she met his gaze, a frown on her full lips. “But you should’ve told me and taken that risk.”

Tessa took a hesitant step closer, and when her finger met his chest, it was much more vulnerable and sincere than the angry stab of her father’s touch. “You needed me. I saw it in your eyes. And look at you now.” Her wobbly lip was going to be his undoing. “You’ve made so much progress, and I’m so proud of you, Gray. And you should be too. But, if you have to hate me, then hate me. It’s worth it.”

“You think I could ever hate you?” He covered her hand over his heart with his own. “The woman who ate with me every single night these last three weeks? The woman who researched and took explicit notes on how I could have sex without hurting myself when the time came . . . only to throw them away, too embarrassed to hand them over?”

Her eyes widened in horror. “You saw those?”

“A crumpled piece of paper in the trash may have caught my eye. More specifically, the words ‘Sex Life How-To Cheat Sheet.’” He couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “The research wasn’t needed, but it was cute. Sweet even.” It also made me hard as a rock. Because he’d envisioned attempting those tips and tricks with Tessa.

“Oh.” She chewed on her lip. A habit of hers he noticed more and more. “Does that mean you’ve, um, tested . . .”

Gray laughed, forgetting all about her father, and he lightly squeezed her hand. “Tell me when I would’ve tested it out? If I’m not at the hospital, I’m with you.”

“Not always. Not at night.” A shy red moved up her slender neck and to her cheeks. God, the brush of freckles beneath her eyes and over her nose added to her sweet innocence somehow.

He pushed away from the wall, letting go of her hand. “No, not at night. You’re right.” He captured her cheek with his rough palm, and she leaned into him as if she might turn her lips and kiss the inside of his hand. “But I can assure you I’ve spent every night alone. Well, unless you consider the memories from the helo crash as keeping me company.”

A soft exhale left her bare lips, and she rolled her tongue along the seam.

Can I do that? “I’m, um, here to say goodbye and wish you luck. And to thank you for being stubborn and not quitting on me when I tried to get you to.” He hated what he would say next, but it had to be done. “You’re leaving tomorrow, and you’ve got three years left to finish the three-plus-three thing you’re doing to get your degree, and—”

“You don’t want me in your life?” She stepped back as if preparing to turn and flee, but she tripped over a shoe near the door.

He wasn’t all that quick on his feet given his situation, but he was used to her constantly tripping around him, and he reached out and caught her, preventing her from falling. He nearly bit a hole in his cheek trying not to drop to the ground as he held her upright, his arm across her midsection.

“I’m such a klutz.” She righted herself, and he let go of her and set his back to the wall.

“It’s better this way,” he said, his tone as broken as he felt. “I can’t stay in your life. I’ll ruin it one way or another.”

“Not even as my friend?” Her saddened expression had him nearly faltering.

“I can’t be your friend, and you know that.” The idea of her dating someone else had the walls closing in on him just thinking about it. “I have to let you go.”

“My father’s words, right?” She crossed her arms, a dare in her eyes to defy the colonel’s orders. He could see it written there. Her soft, always happy look was gone at the mention of her father. “He thinks he knows what’s best for me, but he doesn’t.” She shook her head. “Do you know he arranged my shadow hours at Walter Reed?”

“How could I know that when you never told me he was your father?” he grunted in frustration.

She shot him an apologetic look before sharing, “Dad hoped once I came down here, saw the reality of what I’d be doing, I’d change my mind about who I wanted to work with. He wants me away from the military. Far, far away. But he was wrong. It’s all I want to do. So, his plan backfired.”

And he doesn’t want you dating a man in uniform, either. Especially not a man like me. “This isn’t about your father. I’m not good for you. Too old. Too jaded. Too everything.” He found the energy to shove away from the wall and stand without support. “This is one thing I’m asking you not to argue with me about. Please.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked away as if embarrassed by her reaction.

He reached for her arm, but she resisted. “I guess I should go,” he relented. Hating himself more than ever, he turned and went for the door.

“I want it to be with me. I—I want you to test things out . . . with me before you go,” she blurted, stopping him in his tracks.

He set a trembling hand to the doorframe as he replayed her words.

“If you really haven’t been with anyone since the accident . . . let your first time be with me. I, um, I know that sounds super line-crossy, but it’s what I want. So, if you want it too, then turn around.”

A few deep breaths later, he slowly faced her. How could he not when he knew having her in his arms, even for a brief time, would be as close to Heaven as he’d ever get? Because he’d seen Hell the day he died, not the pearly white gates.

Tessa stepped his way, locking eyes with him as she added in an unwavering tone, “Walk away tomorrow, Gray.” She offered her hand. “And stay with me tonight.”