“That’s a proverb, Jack.Not Dad,” Conrad said.
Jack rolled his eyes.“Seriously?”He headed toward the door, dropping a hand on Stein’s shoulder as he stopped beside him.“God did not make you to sit on the sidelines, Steinbeck.We all know that.And we have your back.Whatever it is you need to do to save the world, we’re in.But don’t pursue this woman with the hope that she’s going to give you some sort of purpose.Only God can do that.”
He slapped his shoulder.“So be smart, and don’t let this girl run away with your heart.”
Jack left.
Stein lay on the bed, his hands behind his head.“When did he get all wise and knowing?”
“Feeling a little usurped?”Conrad got up, pulled off his shirt.
“What?”
Conrad threw the shirt into his open suitcase.“For years, all I got was you telling me how I should live my life.”
“Not true.”
“You were always so confident, like you knew exactly what step to take.Especially after you became a SEAL.”Conrad turned, hands on his hips.“But I didn’t care because you were my big brother, and I knew you were watching my back.So it’s your turn to listen.”He stood at the door to the bathroom.“You don’t always have to save the day.”
He went in and shut the door.
Stein stared at the rotating ceiling fan.Yes, actually, he did.
But even as he stripped down and climbed into bed, as he lay there in the darkness listening to Conrad snore, he heard Jack circling his brain.“But don’t pursue this woman with the hope that she’s going to give you some sort of purpose.Only God can do that.”
He closed his eyes.The only problem was, he’d never felt more as if he wassupposedto be right here, doing this one thing, with this particular woman.
But Jack was right.There was no happily ever after waiting for him at the end of this mission.Phoenix was...messy.Dangerous.Frustrating.Never mind that she ran alone—she’d made that clear.No room for him, or for that matter God, in her life.
And maybe he had been, deep inside, trying to figure out how to help her.So yes, aproject.Shoot.
The truth was, it wasn’t a question of if but ratherwhenshe was going to ditch him.And the last thing he needed was the spy he couldn’t forget running away with his heart.
* * *
She refused to be the villain in this story.Which was why Emberly hadn’t packed her bags.Hadn’t run.
Had even endured a showdown with Austen, who’d come to her room later to deliver an apology.
Which Emberly listened to through the closed door.
Then she’d lain in bed, rehearing Steinbeck’s pounding on the door, over and over, driving sleep far into the corners of the night.
Fine.
She threw back the comforter and got up, pulled on a pair of yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt, and headed downstairs and through the dark house to get a glass of water.
Then she slipped outside onto the porch, sat on the steps, and listened to the wind call her a fool.
She should have never let Steinbeck come along for this ride.
She was so engrossed in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the door open and close, or the footfalls on the porch.
She sensed a presence beside her.Looked up.
Austen.Steinbeck’s twin stood in a pair of long pajama bottoms, a T-shirt, and a cardigan, her auburn hair long and in tangles.“Can I sit with you?”
Emberly bit back an “Are you sure it’s safe?”and nodded instead.Scooted over on the top step.
