THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,267

my face. My stomach churns. My hand roves over the lace beside me, but I don’t take my eyes off of his. His Adam’s apple bobs as he returns my laser gaze. I widen my eyes, prompting him to spit it out. “Dax?” His name slips from my lips in a whisper.

He leans down and presses his lips against my ear. “I love you, Lainey. Let’s grab that coffee now. I’d rather have you naked anyways. We don’t need to spend money on panties when your naked body makes my mouth water,” he growls, taking my hand and leading me toward our usual coffee haunt. His words cause an immediate reaction. My breath quickens. But it’s not just from wanting to have sex—I’m mentally calculating the ways he can destroy me on this brisk five-minute walk. Maybe I would survive a breakup. I’ve survived worse. It occurs to me that I’m being selfish. It may have nothing to do with me at all. Perhaps he’s going through something completely unrelated and he needs me to listen to him…to support him. Noisy talking and copious amounts of human bodies flow around us as we make our way. The New York City cabs honk their usual frenzy as tourists clog sidewalks taking photos. It’s so commonplace, so normal when I feel like my brain is on fire with curiosity.

I squeeze Dax’s hand. He squeezes it back, grinning at me as he surveys the area. He’s always on guard. Especially when he visits me in NYC. This place makes him extremely uneasy, even if he says he enjoys the chaos every once in a while. I know the truth. His training has made him suspicious of ordinary life. He opens the door and I hear his audible sigh of relief when the scent of fresh coffee hits us in a rush. I sit down at our usual table and try not to fidget while I wait for Dax to bring me a caffeine blast with a side of information. I glance at a television in the corner, the top news headlines scrolling across the bottom at a furious pace.

Dax cuts off my view with a brown cup extended my way. “For you. A double shot with extra milk,” he explains, sliding into the seat directly in front of me. I take a scorching sip and wait. I take another. And then another. His blue eyes tick over my face and neck, studying me. Six months is a long time to be away from the person you love. If I had it my way I would sit here and stare at him just the same. He takes the first gulp of his drink and sighs.

“Out with it, honey. You are killing me here. Hookers and blow? Is that it? A love child in Japan? Fourteen wives on a private island named after you?”

“Lane. Baby,” Dax says, face ashen, but completely alight with love. I’m not entirely positive how that’s possible, but I think it’s a good sign. “I’m not sure how to tell you this.” He pauses, winces a little, and waits for some godforsaken cue from me. “I’m not sure how to tell you this and I have no idea how you’ll take it, but I can’t keep this from you for much longer and I want to be the one to tell you. You know, before the media gets the details and…well,” Dax stutters, looks down at my left hand and twists the beautiful diamond engagement ring he delicately placed there. It sparkles a million different colors in the light, reminding me of a happy time.

I slam my hand down on his. “Tell me,” I say. “We’re engaged to be married. Whatever it is can’t possibly be as bad as what I’m imagining right now.”

He raises his eyebrows and breaks eye contact. Shit. Can it?

“What details will the media get?” I ask again, trying to piece together what he’s having such a hard time saying. I glance back at the television and narrow my eyes at the news anchor with large fake boobs and a microphone that should be in a music video and not on location. I see a headline scroll across the screen. The words SEAL TEAM catch my eye. The next words HOSTAGE RESCUE cause a surge of panic.

“Are the guys okay? Did someone get hurt? Die?” My heart in my throat, I bring my hand up to my neck. The pulse there is hammering Dax’s cool fingers are