Page 10 of Defended By the SEAL
She nearly choked. “Excuse me?”
Those blue eyes of his seemed to look right through her in that unnerving way of his. “Think about it. Grams is the woman you most relate to, even more than your mother.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “I relate to my elementary school bus driver more than I relate to my mother.”
“Grams is tough, but loving. Kind, but shrewd. Smart, but forgiving.”
She let her arms unfold, her hands landing on her hips. “And how exactly would you have any idea what she’s like? You just met the woman.”
“Because you told me how you feel about her on the plane. She obviously has your love, but she also has your respect. And you would never respect a woman who doesn’t have her shit together.”
The room felt empty, like a mic had been dropped. How did he do that? Distill an entire relationship down to its essence, or even worse, know her so well? It was unnerving to have someone see inside your soul like Cowboy saw inside Charlotte. Upsetting, even.
It was good they were taking a break from each other. She needed to take a step back, to evaluate where they were in relation to where she wanted to go. Untangle herself from this man and count her fingers and toes, remind herself who she was without him. She recrossed her arms. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean I’m projecting anything.”
From somewhere in the house, Grams’s voice could be heard calling, “Dinner!”
“If Grams could make a mistake this big,” he said, moving toward her. “If she could totally misjudge the character of the man she believes she’s in love with, then so couldn’t you. If she’s wrong about Tom, that gives you permission to see me as the bad guy.”
Her eyes closed on a long sigh. “That’s not what I’m doing.” When he spoke again, he was just a few feet in front of her, and her eyes popped open with a start, locking with his.
“I think it is. I think you’ve decided love is the enemy, that the only thing relationships do is tie you down and keep you from getting what you really want out of life.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Name one thing you don’t like about Tom.” He was just a foot or two away from her now, the scent of him reaching her nose.
She worked to put her finger on it, some tangible piece of evidence that would prove he wasn’t worthy of her grandmother’s love. But Cowboy’s nearness was distracting, the familiar heat of his body warming the air between them, and she felt her cheeks flush. “I don’t have to have a reason. I just don’t like him.”
“Okay,” he said in a voice that bordered on patronizing, but held that firm grip on respect that he never relinquished. “That’s all fine and good, as long as you can acknowledge there’s nothing wrong with relying on someone else.” His voice was hypnotic, cajoling, alluring. “That love exists, and that it makes life better for people who are willing to let it in.”
She took a reflexive step back, breaking the spell that had held her in its grasp. “We should go eat.”
“They just might be good for each other, Charlotte. You have to be willing to accept the possibility, for Grams and Tom.” He sighed heavily. “And for you and me.”
Straightening, she spun and headed for the doorway, talking over her shoulder. “I hardly think you and I are the perfect example for a couple who made it work.” Her steps were solid and sure, her gait the practiced sway ofnonchalance that insisted his words had zero effect on her.
But as she entered the darkened hallway, her eyes stung and her lower back tightened in the fisted grip of anxiety. In that moment, she hated Leo Wilson, hated him with all her might. Because anyone who could string words into sentences and rip the very marrow from her bones had no business being anywhere near her heart.
Not now, and not ever—the storm and this blasted little island be damned.
5
Cowboy hung back while Charlotte walked away. She was projecting her feelings onto Tom and Grams, but that didn’t mean she was wrong. He’d been dating that woman long enough to know her gut feelings were usually right on the money, and that was reason enough for him to text Moto to look into Vanderhoffen’s past.
Hitting send, he was relieved when the message said delivered. It was a miracle they had cell service on this remote little island, especially in this storm, and he knew it wasn’t likely to stay that way for long. He wished he’d thought to bring his sat phone, but Charlotte’s attempt to extricate herself from his life must have momentarily scrambled his brain.
Pocketing the phone, he stared after her and took a deep breath. Loving Charlotte was a lot like that video game where you were a frog, trying to get across twenty lanes of traffic, one lane at a time. Sometimes you had to hop backwards to avoid being hit by a truck.
Two lanes forward, one lane back.
Not for the first time, he thought of her ex. As the commander of HERO Force, Leo had resources available to him most people could only dream about. And what had he used them for? Cyber-stalking her ex, making sure the rat bastard stayed the hell away from Charlotte. And he had. He was a cop in Virgina Beach, remarried to a waitress named Tiffany who Cowboy truly felt bad for.
Charlotte was tough. Take the way she’d just walked out of this room, like his words hadn’t come close to affecting her. But he knew they had. He knew that beneath all her bravado, she was easily hurt, and she loved more deeply than any woman he’d ever met. Those two facts were inextricably knotted together. She was capable of being so badly wounded because she’d allowed herself to be so vulnerable and open to love.
Someday, he vowed, she would be open to love like that again. And if there was a God upstairs, then Cowboy would be the lucky guy who got to be by her side.
He crossed the room to a wide bay window, noting the chilly air that moved across his skin, and tucking his hands into his pockets as he went. Outside, the snow was falling heavily, the night’s blue cast just barely illuminating the shifting spaces between the flakes.
