making decisions about his welfare, the welfare of his platoon members and the good of this country.
I understand the need for tough, brave, well-trained and disciplined operators. It’s imperative, but MS Tristan Michaels needs to be sidelined for his own good and the good of the corps.
He had more medals than she could count, accommodations up the wazoo, and all this because he was completely dedicated 100 percent to what he did. There was nothing left over for anyone in his life. She knew all this before she slept with him, before she’d gotten attached. But sometimes some things were worth the heartache and the pain that would follow.
He was worth it.
Because he was gung-ho about what and who he was. Until he could separate himself from what he did, there wasn’t much of a future for them.
It appeared that Tristan was still caught up in what his therapist stated was his inability to see himself separate from the corps. It wasn’t about the fact that he couldn’t commit to her, to pursuing a relationship that was something more than physical, because Amber was sure it was. She had no doubt.
She wanted that chance to help Tristan see it and become it, but no one could alter the course of someone else’s thinking.
And, her own issues were not insignificant, like the one where she needed to prove to everyone she met that she wasn’t second-best. That she was worthy got twisted into nothing but a competitive situation that only led to strife.
He’d shown her that regardless of his dedication to the corps, he could feel and react to her on a personal and very intimate level. More so than any man she’d ever met. She wasn’t sure if that was because he’d worked so hard to be the man he saw in his mind’s eye or if it was because of his own personal experiences, but Amber saw it and reacted to it. She needed to let go of being perfect, being number one and settling for being the best that she could be in that situation. It took an enormous amount of stress off her and made her feel lighter than air.
She was now exactly where Tristan was worried she’d be. There was no getting around it and even though it hurt, she wasn’t sure she wanted to change anything. He’d wanted her and had, in that moment, been able to transcend his resistance. Had the courage to give in and let this wonderful thing happen.
She knew what it all meant. He’d been in a terrible fight, and the only kind of fight Tristan was ever in was a firefight—bullets flying, life or death, no quarter asked, none given, everybody out for blood. The one that had almost ended his life on that mission where he’d disappeared.
He was the US government’s gunslinger.
But he had to figure out what else he was good at besides gunslinging. That was his dilemma. Not whether to take this job with his friend Rock or not, but about whether or not he could define himself away from the corps.
The fact that she understood didn’t help. She would be leaving here probably tomorrow, maybe even today if she could wrap things up and get a flight out of Reno. Get to the vacation she really needed.
Reaching up, she gently ran her fingers back through his thick hair, her fingers caressing a face of high cheekbones and lean angles, a beautifully formed nose. Carefully, softly, she touched her mouth to his, then pushed herself away. She didn’t get far.
In an instant, he was awake, his hand coming up and holding her in the bed, his eyes wide open—every muscle and tendon in his body tight and radiating one single message: ready.
Ready for anything was more like it. She was startled by his sudden transition into utter and complete wakefulness. Good Lord, he’d been sound asleep, snoring.
“Don’t go,” he said, holding her gaze, his voice soft, a sleepy contrast to the alertness pulsing through him like a heartbeat.
“I…I wasn’t going.” At least not very far. She acknowledged the fact that she should put some space between them, get some air, give herself at least a half a chance to think straight. Something that was impossible to do when she was close enough to breathe him in—and they were close. One of his legs was half over her, his right arm extended and clasped around her waist. With every breath he took she felt his stomach rise against