Liberty’s breath hitched.
“Lib? Say something.”
“I’m sorry, Trent. I can’t do this.” She took a step back, flinging a hand into the air. “I can’t even decide what to do with my life. I quit my job and sold my condo, I’m making plans to hike the Appalachian Trail, and I don’t even know what I’m doing.” She shook her head back and forth. “I do have feelings for you, but I’m kind of messed up. I …”
“Clarity,” he said. “You just need a little gunfire coming at you to give you some clarity.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“When you’re a SEAL, you learn quickly that the best time to figure something out is in the field, because you have a target and you get the target. Everything is clear to you.”
She was confused.
He let out an embarrassed laugh. “It’s coming out all wrong.”
“I don’t think it’s wrong at all,” an unfamiliar voice said from behind Trent. “I like the analogy of gunfire coming at you.”
They stiffened. Liberty stared, wide-eyed, at three men standing nearby with guns pointed at Trent. “Oh my gosh.”
Trent pinned one of them with a glare. “Banks?”