So, piece by piece, I take my time.
Glutton for punishment, I raise my gaze as Anastasia slips her cardigan off and hangs it by the door. The straps of her dress are thin, and the back drops down enough to reveal the sun-kissed skin of her upper back.
Hunger burns in my gut, but it has nothing to do with the food.
“How’s the shop?” Jack asks.
“Fine. Solve a lot of murders lately?” I counter.
“You will not talk about death right now,” Linda scolds.
“Hey! I thought we were on a date. There’s no yelling on a date.” I pop a piece of apple into my mouth, then hand her the pie dish.
She rolls her eyes but laughs.
As much as I don’t want to, I turn toward Jack.
“A few,” he answers.
“Cool.” Awkward silence stretches between us, but I’m no longer envisioning slamming a pie plate full of apples over his head, so that’s progress.
“Hey, Sawyer,” Anastasia greets as she comes to stand beside her boyfriend. I don’t miss the way her gaze briefly meets mine before shifting away. Or how Jack moves in closer to her.
“Hey.” Jealousy rears its ugly head again, and I know I need air. Desperately. Now. “I’ll be right back, Momma Knox. Don’t move on to the next handsome guy who shows up.”
She laughs and rolls her eyes again. A slight smirk toys at the corners of Anastasia’s mouth, too, giving me far more joy than it should. Making her laugh used to be what I lived for.
Desperate for a breath of oxygen that is not shared with anyone else, I head down the hall and into the bathroom. Once the door is locked behind me, I rest both hands on the sides of the sink and drop my head.
Seeing her with him is like being pulled beneath the surface of a stormy sea. The waves batter my body as I fight to breathe.
When will it get better?
When will I be able to move on?
Because, no matter how many dates I’ve gone on in the last few months, no matter how many times I’ve tried to push my body to its breaking point at the gym, in hopes that the exhaustion will cure me, nothing works.
Only when I hear the door open and more voices join in do I wash my hands and leave the bathroom. Zane and Tessa are talking to Jack and Linda, while Anastasia busies herself doing something in the kitchen.
“Hey, Sawyer,” Zane greets. The former lieutenant commander was my Acting Team Commander despite being a rank lower than is typical. He’d proven himself early, though, and we would have followed him into any corner of the world necessary. Which is probably why we became the target for a branch of the government that didn’t technically exist.
After six years of off-books missions, we were finally cut loose. The transition has been—well—difficult at times.
“You’re late,” I say, keeping my voice low so no one else can hear.
“Sorry, we got the new cabinets installed, so I took Tessa over to see them.”
Zane and his wife have been living on his boat ever since they got married toward the beginning of the year. Recently, he started building a house on a beachside plot of land he’s owned since he graduated college.
It’s the start of their life together, and I couldn’t be happier for them.
“Nice. Congrats.”
“Thanks.” Zane smiles knowingly at me. “You good?”
“Surviving.”
“You look it.”
