Page 48 of Code Name: Grit

“Maybe she assumed we shared a hotel suite when we were in the city.”

She shifted on my lap. “It was more than that. While she didn’t say it…”

I raised an eyebrow, enjoying her discomfort despite myself. “Say what?”

“That I should sleep with you.” The words came out in a rush. “Are you happy now?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Your mother’s a practical woman.”

Lumi covered her face with her palms. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.” I gently pulled her hands away, turning serious. “Listen to me. What happens between us is our decision. Not hers, not your brother’s, not Admiral’s.”

She gasped. “Admiral’s?”

This time, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, because believe me, he would be the last person to make any kind of, err, suggestions.”

She exhaled slowly. “If it’s our decision, then what’s stopping you?”

I studied her, unsure how to respond.

She pulled her hand free, but didn’t move from my lap. “If you’re worried about my inexperience?—”

“I’m not,” I said. The lie hung between us. “This job is dangerous enough without complications.”

“That’s bullshit.” She held my gaze. “If you wanted simple, you wouldn’t have come with me.”

I looked out at the lake. “I just told you I wasn’t worried about your inexperience, but my response wasn’t entirely honest.”

“Oh, God,” she said, covering her face.

“I’mnot worried about it. I mean, I’m more worried about you.” That didn’t come out the way I meant either.

“I’m not a child, Grit.” Her voice quieted. “I’m done sacrificing today for a tomorrow that might never come.”

That penetrated my defenses more than any argument would have, and I turned back to her.

“I think too much,” I admitted.

She leaned forward, her forehead touching mine. “And I’ve spent my life running.” Her breath warmed my skin. “Let’s stop.”

I cupped her face, feeling the steady pulse beneath my fingers. “You sure about this?”

“Yes.” The single word held such certainty.

The cabin grew quiet except for the crackling of the fireplace and the soft lapping of waves against the shore outside. Somewhere in the distance, a loon called, its haunting cry echoing across the water.

“You should know I’m not good at this,” I admitted.

Her lips curved in a small smile. “At what specifically?”

“Relationships. Opening up. Letting someone in.”

“Neither am I. Better put, I don’t know whether I am or not.” She paused, searching for words. “With you, I want to try.”

My resolve weakened further with each word. I’d been fighting this attraction since the moment I first saw her, and I was tired of the battle.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she whispered.

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