His brother clapped him on the back. “Look. She’s all right. You need to stop beating yourself up.”
Leave it to Cole to sense his innermost emotions that he couldn’t put into words. He lifted the bottle to his lips and sucked back a mouthful of the bitter brew. Guilt. Yup. That’s exactly what was eating him from the inside out.
“You didn’t know she was working with the CIA?” Cole asked.
“I did. I knew all about her informant position and what the role was. She was supposed to be done with them. Planned to cut all ties, but when people kept trying to kill us, she . . . I dunno. I guess she thought she was protecting me. She made a deal with them to get us passports out of here, but I couldn’t take that risk. Don’t trust those bastards.”
“I was on my way.” He hooked his lip, a “duh” hovering in the air.
“Well, you didn’t tell me. Dare didn’t even know where you were. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m glad you came when you did.”
“Then you and Gemma parted ways?”
“They were supposed to take her to a new posting. But that never happened.”
Cole chugged his beer then stuffed a handful of fries into his mouth. “So how’s this shit going to work between you?”
Dallas lifted the top of his burger and added some mayo. The scent of the greasy meat reached his nostrils, but instead of making him hungry, it did the opposite. His stomach revolted. But he needed something in his gut besides booze.
He hadn’t let his mind venture in that direction. Life with Gemma had always been day by day—year by year, actually. But in the months between her visits he’d always been on edge, never knowing when she’d show up at his door and praying it’d be sooner than the last time.
He couldn’t even begin to plan out what their lives would look like. “Hell if I know.” He slapped the bun back on his sandwich and ate as much as he could.
When they were finished eating, he helped Cole clean up, and when his brother went back to his own room, Dallas got in the shower. The pungent odor of gas clung to the walls of the bathroom. Even if they got rid of the smell, he’d never get rid of the memory.
He quickly washed then snuck into the bedroom and slid beneath the covers. Careful not to wake her, he shimmied close to Gemma’s back and waited for sleep to claim him.
It didn’t.
* * *
The mattress dipped and Gemma flitted open her eyes. Dallas’s warm, firm body pressed to her back. Despite the ibuprofen she’d taken, her burned skin still throbbed.
She turned in Dallas’s arms, and he pulled her closer to his chest. “Sorry I woke you.”
“I’m glad you did.” Her dreams had been plagued by images of flames surrounding her, closing in, sucking away her oxygen and encasing her body. But she didn’t tell him that. The crease of worry hadn’t left his face, as if his memories pained him as much as hers did.
His mouth went to her forehead and she rested her hand on his pec, savoring the solid muscle. His bare legs brushed against hers as he moved even closer. She didn’t need to peek under the covers to know he wore only his briefs.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice broke.
Gemma’s heart ached. She brought her hand to his cheek. “None of this is your fault. I would’ve worked this job whether I bumped into you or not. As a matter of fact, I would have died days ago if it weren’t for you.”
He let out a rattly breath. “I can’t shake the feeling that I almost lost you tonight. There’s so much—”
“But you didn’t. I’m here.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” he chastised gently.
She scraped her knuckles over the scruff on his jaw that was days longer than it normally was. “Okay,” she said slowly.
“There’s so much I regret, Gemma. I should have made things clear to you a long time ago.”
Her pulse stalled. “What do you mean?”
His fingers twined in her hair. “Do you think most men would put up with a woman waltzing in and out of their lives whenever she wanted?”
Confusion muddled her train of thought. “I don’t understand.”