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His arms surrounded her despite the tightness he felt at his throat, his chest. Goddamn, this woman could make him feel things he had no idea how to identify or control. She was his light in the dark, always guiding him, always ensuring he didn’t lose his way.
It had always been Poppy who kept his ass on the straight and narrow as he matured. He’d lived in fear that she’d fall in love, and marry; and if she had, he could have handled it, he told himself. He would probably have been less determined to not catch a fatal bullet when he fought, but he would have never hurt her. Never hurt someone she loved.
This precious little flame, for this moment, was all his. And when it was over, and she hated him, reviled him for deceiving her, she’d still be his light in the dark.
“They’re so wrong about you. And you’re wrong,” she whispered against his chest. “Hiding from emotion and not having any are two different things, Jack Lee Bridger. And I hope one of these days, you realize that.”
His lips quirked on a sad smile.
Oh, he realized it, because he’d realized a long time ago he loved one person in this world, and one person only.
The gentle, far too tender flame he held in his arms.
She was his heart, a part of his soul. The word “love” was far too paltry for what he felt. And there was no other word that he’d ever heard that could describe it.
She was his. That plain. That simple. For now.
And that was all that mattered.
“You shouldn’t have to kill to protect me, Jack,” she whispered, stepping back from him, her hand lifting to touch his cheek.
He caught her hand, pressed his lips to her palm, then cupped her face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers.
“I’m your monster slayer, baby,” he told her, continuing to stare into her eyes. “Always.”
He brushed his lips against hers again, released her, and quickly walked to the door and out of the house. If he stayed, he’d soon have her lying across the damned kitchen island, driving them both crazy.
He ached for her, even after last night. There was something about her that kept him hungry, kept him coming back to her. Kept him regretting the truth he knew would be revealed all too soon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
She was changing him.
Jack watched Poppy with her friends a week later from the bar, where he stood drinking a beer, feeling that heaviness in his chest that he felt whenever he allowed himself to dwell on the fact that the day was quickly approaching that she’d know what he’d done.
Lied to her, used her to get to her friends.
From the corner of his eye, he watched Caine Crossfield as he sat at a table and began to chat with Dawson’s sister, Saige. Her hair was shorter than the other girls’, cut to frame her slender face and emphasize the tilt of her brown eyes. She looked like an impish teenager.
There was a wry smile that played about her lips, a knowing expression. She wasn’t flirting with Crossfield, but she was teasing him. Silently laughing at him, perhaps.
Caine glanced toward the bar, not for the first time, and Saige turned to talk to Lilith. But Lilith wasn’t taking her eyes off Hank, as he danced with a young woman who had teasingly invited him to the dance floor.
Standing, Caine indicated his empty glass, then turned and headed toward the bar.
Jack had been watching him each evening as the group gathered at the bar for dinner. Biding his time, waiting. Jack had wondered just how long the other man would wait before making his move.
Two merc groups had contacted Jack through the week with reports of an offer, but no details. The fact that there were no details and that word had circulated that two groups had died here had ensured the offers were turned down.
Word that four former Navy SEALs, even if dishonorably discharged, were working as a unit in the area had gotten around. Only the most arrogant, the most stupid, would have gone up against them for the limited profit that would come of it. Word of the strike by unknown assailants against Mick Candless’s team had circulated as well. Word was, Jack’s team was in the clear as far as suspicion was concerned; suspicion was turning to whoever had put the job out.
The offers weren’t high enough to make the risk worth it now without full disclosure of the job up for grabs.
“Bridger.” Caine stepped in beside him, placed his empty glass on the bar, and turned toward Jack. “You’re making it hard for a man to find good employees since you came back.”
Play time was over, it seemed.
Jack grunted at the accusation. “So I hear.”
