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Cooper turned at the door. “Yeah?”
“If I can pull off a miracle and get her to agree, would you hire her as a background technician? Or a recovery specialist?”
Cooper laughed. “Sure. But good luck with that one. She probably hates me more than she hates you.”
The door closed behind him, and Jake took a deep breath. This wouldn’t be easy, but Cooper was right. He was miserable without Tara, and there was only one way to fix that.
He had to find a way to get her back.
…
A few measly hours later, Jake pulled his baseball hat over his head and slid his shades higher on his nose. Clouds were rolling in, and so was a storm. He could smell it in the air. Sense it in the wind. Hell, he could feel it in his fucking bones.
He stood there, on her walkway, trying to think of the best thing to say to her. At first, she would be surprised to see him. She’d probably thought she’d never have to see him again. But she hadn’t counted on him falling for her, and neither had he.
The whole flight down to Florida, he’d tried to come up with some big gesture to show her he wanted her back. To show her he cared about her. That she’d shown him that he wanted more out of life than loner-ville.
He hadn’t come up with a damn thing.
The big house she’d holed up in rose three stories, and it was a modern cookie-cutter mansion with white shutters and big windows. The structure was easily five times the size of his home, but it still managed to look inviting with pretty flowers all lined up the stone pathway. The red door was shut, as were all the windows. Locked up tight.
Just like she’d be to him once she knew he was back.
He walked around the back of the house, taking off his sandals once he hit the sand. It had been a hell of a long time since he felt the hot stuff between his toes. Afghanistan didn’t count. That had been hell. He had thought it ruined him for sand. Thought it had ruined everything, in a way that his parents’ deaths hadn’t.
But then Tara had proved him wrong. She’d saved him.
She was the exception to his brokenness. As he rounded the corner, he found her. She was lying on a lounge chair, eyes shut. A gold bikini barely covered her essential parts, and his mouth dried out. He scanned the area, looking for any men watching his Tara, but no one was nearby. Not a single person in sight.
Thank fucking God.
He dropped his bag and crept closer, his attention on the flat part of her stomach, right above her bikini. It begged to be nibbled on. Hell, every inch of her needed to be tasted by him. One way or the other, he’d find a way to convince her she should forgive him. He wouldn’t give up on her. On them.
They were meant to be.
He swiped his palms on his pants. “Hello, sweetheart.”
She sat upright immediately, her lids flying open. Her cheeks flushed pink, and her perfect mouth dropped into an O shape. “Jake? What… Why… What the hell?”
“Did you miss me?”
She shook her head slightly. “Why are you here?”
“I missed you like hell. I can’t sleep. Can’t think. Can’t live without you making my life exciting. Putting stickers on my car and feng shui-ing my house. All that shit—I miss it. I miss you.” He wasn’t going to pussyfoot around. When he wanted something, he went after it. And he wanted Tara, in his arms, preferably naked. Forever. “Did you miss me at all? Never mind. I can tell you did.”
Her mouth opened and closed, but she didn’t respond. She seemed to be in too much shock to form a reply. Not once in his life had he ever seen her at a loss for words. That was a promising start to his mission…maybe. Or maybe she was just trying to think of the best way to tell him to go fuck himself.
Either way, he wasn’t giving up.
&n
bsp; “Miss you? No. I haven’t thought of you at all.”
Ouch. That hurt, but it would have hurt a lot more if she were telling the truth. She’d averted her eyes as she spoke. She was lying through her pretty little teeth. He stepped closer to her, letting his shadow fall over her. “The hell you haven’t.”
She lifted her chin and stared him down. “I don’t want you here. Go away.”
“That I believe.” He dropped to his knees at the side of her chair. “I fucked up, and I know it. I hurt you. Can you give me a chance to kiss it and make it better?”
