Her head inclined to the view in front of them. "I can't believe all of this is happening in such a beautiful place."
He followed her gaze to the boat and the ocean beyond.
"It looks like a movie set," she said. "The palm trees wrestling with the sea breeze. The moon dancing on the waves. That gorgeous yacht." A soft laugh escaped her lips. Her eyes found his. "I wish it were a different kind of movie, though. This . . ." She flung her hand toward the yacht. "This is some kind of scary thriller—even more scary because I don't know if it's going to have a happy ending or not."
Her focus returned to the yacht. Doubt about Cassidy's intentions stamped on her face.
He wanted to promise her the happiest of happy endings. But he knew better.
"I know I don't need to tell you that life isn't fair." Because, yeah, there was a chance Cassidy wasn't walking off that yacht.
He brushed her arm with his fingers, coaxing her eyes to lock on his. "But God can handle this. He can carry you through whatever happens tonight. Let him."
She leaned into his touch, jaw tight, eyes moist.
He wrapped his arms around her and spoke into the waves of her soft brown hair. "You're not alone. You never will be."
Yes, he meant their unchanging God would never leave her. But he also hoped she could count on him. Beyond tonight.
She eased back, opened her mouth—apparently changed her mind—and shut it again.
He couldn't suppress a short chuckle. "Go ahead. What were you going to say?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course." He glanced toward the yacht. Still no Cassidy.
"In the hallway when Cassidy took off, you were . . . I know I haven't known you very long. But you looked uncharacteristically angry.What was that?"
He stared at her innocent face, trying to conjure up a response. She had no idea what she was asking. What he'd felt in the hallway . . . The way his whole body had reacted in that moment . . .
He thought he'd efficiently dealt with those emotions. He thought those painful echoes were dead and buried. Like Heather.
He'd surprised himself with the anger and fear that slammed his heart into his chest when he couldn't find Lena. She was only missing for ten seconds, and he nearly lost his mind. He'd found it difficult to breathe. Then, when he saw her again, he had to fight to regulate his pulse.
Cassidy's attitude hadn't helped the situation. But it was the few seconds of tormenting flashbacks that triggered him—not Cassidy's stubbornness.
He didn't know how to explain any of that to Lena. To the tender concern staring at him.
She looked embarrassed. "I asked something personal." She tucked some flying strands behind her ear. "I didn't mean to overstep. I'm sorry. It's just . . . the way you reacted back there . . . I just want to know that you're okay."
Sincere compassion in her gaze awakened something in him—something that wanted to explain everything.
Without permission, the words tumbled out of his mouth.
"There was . . . a woman. Five years ago. We were close," he said. "And we worked together. She took a lot of risks. Too many. I tried to protect her. She wouldn't listen. She was smart, but she wanted to do everything on her own."
The memory seared his insides. Lena didn't need all the details. What did he really need to explain? He wasn't still in love with Heather. That part of his heart moved on, healed, not long after her funeral. What he couldn't stand was that he had failed her.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I think, back on the yacht, when I couldn't find you . . . I think it triggered some memories." He cleared his throat. "We were on a mission when she decided to go off on her own. She was supposed to stay with me, but she saw one of the targets moving . . . anyway, she took off. Twenty minutes later, I found her. She was dead."
Lena gasped. "Oh, Nash, I'm so sorry. That's horrible." She grabbed his hand. A tortured expression twisted on her face. He hadn't meant to scare her. That wasn't the point.
"Hey, I didn't mean for that to sound like a cautionary tale. I wasn't trying to frighten you. You asked. So I wanted to explain."
"You can't blame yourself."
He grunted. "Yes, I can."
