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How had this miracle happened?
A handful of days ago, he’d been a hollow man existing in a bleak world, tormented by memories that were destroying him.
Addison had changed everything.
He woke with her in his arms, fell asleep the same way. And he slept through the night.
The dreams were gone.
No more flames, clawing the sky.
No more twisted metal, shrieking like a wounded beast as the Blackhawk was torn apart.
No more men bleeding into the thin mountain soil.
For almost two years, everybody—the doctors, the therapists, the nurses, his family, every last one of them—had told him he needed to deal with what was inside him.
The wounds that he kept hidden.
See a shrink, they said. Join a support group. Talk it out.
And now, he had.
He’d emptied his soul, let Addison, his Adoré, see the ugliness that had been killing him.
And after she’d heard it all, she’d said she was proud to know him….
God, how he loved her.
Loved her with all his heart.
He hadn’t told her that. Not yet. He was afraid to because this involved so much.
It meant saying, I love you, I want to spend my life with you, and can you give up your entire existence for me?
What if she said no?
What if she liked him but she didn’t love him?
He couldn’t bear to think about the possibility.
He needed to get out of here. Get her out of here. Take her someplace romantic …
Romantic, he thought, and he realized he knew the perfect place.
He told her they were going out for supper.
“Out?”
“Out,” he said kissing the tip of her nose. “Put on something fancy. That black dress you wore the first time we met. Those shoes.”
She batted her lashes at him.
“You like those shoes, huh?”
Jake grinned. “Enough so I went back and found the one you lost.”
“Okay. Black silk dress. Stiletto heels. Give me half an hour.”
