Page 94 of Shea's Hero

“You look pretty handsome, too.” Shea leans across the small table to give me a soft kiss. “Not just handsome. Sexy.” Her lips quirk as she adds, “You have the whole James Bond thing going on, with the suit and white button down and that intense look you get.”

“James Bond, huh?” I arch an eyebrow at her. “Which one?”

She pauses and taps her finger to her lips. “Hmm. I’d have to say a mix of Pierce Brosnan and Sean Connery. But even better looking.”

With a thoughtful nod, I reply, “Well. I can’t complain about being compared to them. But you never mentioned being a James Bond fan before.”

“I’m not. My dad was. He watched all the movies at least ten times.” Shea takes a sip of her wine before adding, “You would be the perfect James Bond. With your dark hair and blue eyes and captivating smile?—”

“Captivating?” My smile widens. “That sounds like a good thing.”

“Of course it is.” Her gaze holds mine. “I still remember the way you smiled at me the first time we met. My heart did this crazy fluttering thing. And I hoped more than anything that you were going to ask me out.”

“I was so nervous,” I admit. “I was worried you’d think I was this creepy guy, approaching you in the park like that. But I had to. The moment I saw you, I knew I had to try. I knew I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t.”

“Oliver.”Her fingers squeeze mine. “I don’t even want to think about it. Never meeting you? Not having you in my life? It’s unthinkable.”

Emotion thickens my throat. “Me neither.”

We stare at each other for a few seconds, or a few minutes, as time loses meaning. The chatter of the other guests in the dining room fades to a dull buzz. Everything else fades in importance as I look into the eyes of the woman I love more than anything.

The only woman I’ve ever truly loved.

And I almost lost her.

Even a month on, the memories are still just as vivid as if they just happened. Despite my best attempts to put them in the past, they’re still stubbornly hanging on, making themselves known at the most unwelcome of times.

Nightmares, when I wake up in a cold sweat, certain that I’m going to turn over in bed to find Shea gone. That I’ll realize the last month was actually a dream, and I never rescued her to begin with. Or when I had to bring her to work again, and I nearly had a panic attack at the thought. Me, who prided myself at staying calm in the most dire and stressful of circumstances, close to losing it because I had to be separated from Shea for more than a few minutes.

But I’m working on it. I’ve gone to some of Shea’s counseling sessions, and I’ve talked to some of the guys about it, like Cash and Ben and Ian, who all struggled to cope after their own partners ended up in trouble. And while my instinct is to shield Shea from anything that bothers me, I’ve been sticking to our agreement. When I’m stressed out or feeling guilty, I tell her. And when she’s having a tough time, she comes to me.

The other thing that helps is knowing Romanova is out of the picture. Permanently.

That was my biggest worry, and initially, I wasn’t sure how to solve it. Even with the testimony from Sergey, who flipped just as quickly as I thought he would, it still could have taken months for the CIA to find enough evidence to sanction bringing him in.

Then I thought of another way.

Asher—or Ash, as he prefers—and I were in the same training class at Langley, and we’ve kept in touch since. He’s a part of the Special Operations Group, a covert branch of the CIA that is sent out on unsanctioned covert ops all over the world. They take on the jobs the U.S. government doesn’t want to be associated with, like assassinating high value enemy targets and undermining extremist political groups.

So I talked to Ash about Romanova. I told him how important it was to me to keep Shea safe. How I didn’t want this hanging over her for months, or even years. And how much I loved her, and planned to marry her as soon as possible.

After I finished explaining everything, my old friend didn’t hesitate to offer his help.

“Consider it my wedding gift,” he said with a wry chuckle. “I’ll make sure this is taken care of. Just promise to invite me to the wedding.”

A week later, Romanova was dead. Officially, it was a car accident. But unofficially? Ash kept his word. And he’ll definitely be invited to the wedding.

Well. Assuming Shea says yes when I ask. Just because she said she would, it isn’t a guarantee.

Which leads us towards the next part of the night.

I could have asked Shea a dozen times over the last few weeks, but it never felt like the right time. It didn’t feel special enough for such an important question. But now that we’re on the trip Shea won in the auction, staying in this incredible resort in the Adirondacks with nothing to do but spend time together… it feels right.

It’s still damn scary, though. And as much as logic tells me there’s nothing to worry about, that Shea will say yes, there’s still a niggling fear askingwhat if?

What if I hand my heart over to her and she says no?

A low cough startles us out of our shared moment, and I jerk my head up to see our server standing beside the table, smiling politely. “Can I get you anything else, sir?” He turns to Shea. “Miss? Another glass of wine? Perhaps a coffee or espresso?”

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