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“Fine. Spit it out.”

“I found out that I desperately needed to blame myself for what happened in London, even though it wasn't really my fault.”

“Why would you need to do that?”

“Because…” She was quiet for a long moment, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest. “Because if it was my fault, that meant I could have stopped it. And if I could have stopped it, then I could make sure nothing like that ever happened to me again.”

Something shifted in my chest. “So, blaming yourself made you feel safer?”

“Exactly. It was like… if I just beat myself up enough, if I figured out exactly what I did wrong, then I'd be protected. But that's not how the world works.” Her voice got softer. “Sometimes things just happen, Graham. Random, terrible things that we can't control.”

And then it hit me.

Like a fucking avalanche.

All this time. Four years of carrying Todd, Roy, and Hamm on my shoulders, four years of replaying every second of that mission, four years of telling myself I should have known, should have seen it coming, should have saved them… all of it was because I couldn't accept that I was powerless.

That sometimes good men die and there's nothing their team leader can do about it.

That sometimes the intel is wrong, and it's nobody's fault.

That sometimes you can do everything right and still lose everything.

“Oh, fuck.” The words tore out of me like they'd been ripped from my chest. “Oh, fuck, Joy.”

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't see. Years of guilt and self-hatred came crashing down around me, and for the first time since Africa, I felt the weight of it lifting off my shoulders.

“I've been carrying them because I couldn't stand the thought that they just… died. For nothing. Randomly.” My voice broke. “But that's what happened, isn't it? They just died, and it wasn't my fault. I couldn't have saved them.”

The relief was so overwhelming I thought I might pass out.

Looking down at this woman who'd just handed me back pieces of myself I thought were lost forever, I realized Joy wasn't just beautiful or smart or sexy.

She was a fucking miracle worker.

I stood up with Joy in my arms and headed toward the sliding glass door.

“What about the dishes?” she exclaimed as she pointed to the table.

“I’m pretending they’re out of my control.”

Chapter Sixteen

Waking up to Graham had to be one of the best things in the whole world. Normally he was awake before I was, but this morning I got to watch him sleep, and it was a treat. The sun shone in through the blinds, and his face was softer than normal. The laugh lines at his eyes were still there, but his frown lines were all gone.

His snores were more like a lion’s purr—deep, steady, and a little wild. And his lips. Oh, what he could do with his lips. I couldn’t help myself; I traced his bottom lip as softly as I could.

I shrieked when he sucked my finger into his mouth.

“You were supposed to be asleep!”

“How could I be asleep when you were watching me so seriously? I could feel your eyes on me.”

“No, you couldn’t,” I admonished. “And anyway, you were snoring. You couldn’t fake that.”

He raised his eyebrow as he propped his head on his fist. “I couldn’t? I think I just proved I could.”

Damn, he was right.