Page 97 of Lost Hope

“Just saying.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m proud of you, baby girl. Always have been.”

She stared him full in the face, chest tight. “Thank you.”

He looked away. “Should have said those words way more often. I’m sorry about that.”

“You’re saying them now. That means everything.”

Hands on his lean hips, he shuffled his feet, nodding in acknowledgement.

Needing to steer the conversation away from Ronan, away from her hopes that were nothing more than far off possibilities, she took charge.

“So let’s talk about your love life,” she said, mostly to lighten the moment, but also because she was intrigued. “You’re pretty taken with Victoria Quinn.”

His mouth dropped open. “Taken? I don’t know about that.”

“Dad. Don’t even bother. You like her. A lot.”

He squeezed the back of his neck, wincing. “That obvious?”

“Afraid so.”

He got a dreamy look in his eyes. “She’s a magnificent woman.”

“Ask her out.”

“What? No. The woman’s got a demanding schedule. And my shifts are way too unpredictable.”

She pulled off her gloves and made a face. “Wow. Is that an excuse I’m hearing? From the legendary Lawrence Chen? Really?”

He threw up his hands. “You’re right. That’s fair.” He grinned at her. “How about this? I’ll ask Victoria on a date if you talk to your guy. Neither one of us has anything to lose. What do you say?”

He was wrong. She had a lot to lose.

But she couldn’t admit that aloud. Not to her father. Or herself. So she responded the only way she could. “Deal.”

“Deal.” Her father pulled her in for a bone-cracking hug, and then stowed his sparring equipment.

Maya watched him leave the gym, her smile fading. If only things were as clear-cut as her father saw them. A neat Hollywood ending where the guy gets the girl, the team welcomes her with open arms, and everyone lives happily ever after.

She unwrapped her hands slowly, studying her knuckles. The mission’s success didn’t change the fundamentals. Ronan was still Ronan—damaged, distant, wrapped in layers of armor she wasn’t sure anyone could breach.

And Knight Tactical ... she’d helped with one mission, sure. But that didn’t automatically translate to a job offer. These people had years of history, trust built in blood and fire. They’d worked together seamlessly while she’d just tried to keep up.

The bitter taste of reality settled on her tongue. She’d meant what she’d told her father about wanting this life, this mission. But wanting something and getting it were vastly different things.

Maya tossed the gloves in the bin and headed for the showers. Time to face the day—and whatever complications it brought—with clear eyes.

49

DAWN’S DUE

Ronan surfacedfrom the fever three days later in a private medical suite, an IV in his arm and the steady beep of monitors marking time. Something pressed against his chest, unfamiliar. His hand drifted up, fingers finding a metal chain and cross. He frowned, trying to remember where it had come from.

His first clear vision was Maya asleep in a chair beside his bed, her hand curled around his. When he shifted, her eyes opened instantly.

“Hey,” she said, voice rough with exhaustion. “Welcome back.”

He tried to speak, but his throat felt like sandpaper. She helped him with ice chips, her hands gentle.

---