“Damn it, Olivia! For once in your life will you stop being so fucking stubborn and tell me what’s going on!”
She jumped. Didn’t mean to. Not with him. As mad as he was, Jake would never, ever hurt her. Not physically, anyway. Tell that to your heart.
Of course, he noticed. “Shit, Liv.” His voice lowered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just that...damn it, you know I can help you.”
Olivia opened her mouth to deny it again, but the look on his face told her he wasn’t going to let it go. He’d keep pushing and pushing until she finally gave in.
God, the man could be insufferable, and as usual, Olivia had zero resistance when it came to him. She bit her bottom lip and tried not to let him see how scared she really was.
“I’m handling it.”
Instantly, the lines on Jake’s forehead smoothed, and his expression hardened. “Handling what?”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about, Jake. Really. It’s—”
“You do realize, I make one phone call to Derek, and in less than two minutes I’ll have any and all complaints or police reports you’ve ever filed.”
Olivia actually felt her jaw drop. Flustered, she said “Derek can’t hack into the NFPD’s computer system. That’s...illegal!”
That damn eyebrow rose again, and he looked as though she’d just made the most ridiculous statement in the history of the world. Which, she had.
Of course, super-secret black ops types wouldn’t care about a silly thing like illegally hacking into Nowhere, USA’s police database. Especially not a guy like Derek West.
A literal computer genius and member of R.I.S.C.’s Alpha Team, the former SEAL was much too good at what he did to get caught.
Not that Derek needed to hack the department’s computers now, anyway. Olivia had just confirmed Jake’s suspicions herself. She had filed a police report since moving here. Three, to be precise.
Shit, shit shit.
Jake turned away, quickly reassembling her gun before handing it back to her, butt-first. Praying he didn’t notice how the gun shook in her hand, Olivia took it and sat it on the counter behind her, next to their still-empty coffee cups.
“I don’t want to call D,” Jake’s soothing voice rumbled. “I’d much rather hear it from you.” He took a step closer. “You’re obviously scared of something, Liv.” He reached up and caressed her cheek. His eyes pleaded with her as he whispered, “Talk to me, sweetheart.”
Ah, man. Sweetheart? Really? With that one endearment and his heartfelt plea, the final thread of Olivia’s resolve disintegrated.
She became putty in his hands. Strong, callused hands that were currently touching her with loving caresses.
Hadn’t she known all along this would happen? Olivia silently cursed herself because when Jake looked at her like he was now, she knew she’d give him any damn thing he asked for.
“It’s nothing big, Jake. Some...things have happened since I’ve been back.” She quickly added, “But, I’m fine. Really.”
The muscle in his jaw flexed, and his brows furrowed. He let his hand fall to his side, and she immediately longed for it back.
“What sort of things?”
Olivia was too damn tired to keep up the pretense anymore. The man was like a freaking dog with a bone. He wouldn’t give up until she’d spilled every single detail, so it was pointless to waste more energy arguing.
She blew out a steady breath. “Look, Jake. I’ve just come off my third double shift in ten days. If we’re going to have this conversation, then I really do need that coffee.”
His brow crinkled in the middle. For a moment, he genuinely looked as though he felt badly for keeping her awake. Not bad enough, apparently, because his only response was, “Better make a full pot.”
Chapter 2
After waiting in painfully awkward silence for the coffee pot to fill, Olivia and Jake sat at opposite ends of her oval-shaped oak table.
Olivia inhaled deeply, the smell of freshly-roasted coffee beans somewhat soothing as she tried to decide where to start. Her life had become such a train wreck lately, it was hard to choose.
As if reading her thoughts, Jake said, “Why don’t you start with why you left Dallas.”
She wrapped her fingers around the porcelain mug, absorbing its heat. “What I said about the reporters was true. After you left...”
She paused, literally biting her tongue to keep from ripping into him about the way he’d left. She cleared her throat and tried again.
“After the Homeland agents were done questioning me about what happened in Madagascar and then...after, I was placed under their protection for a few days. As soon as I could, I went back to my apartment, except it wasn’t my apartment anymore.”
Her eyes rose to find his, and she gave him a sad smile. “Turns out when your landlord thinks you’re dead, he doesn’t tend to keep your place waiting for you.”
Jake didn’t smile back like she’d hoped, so she kept going. “But, he had another unit available with the exact same setup as mine. Thankfully, he’d boxed all my stuff up and put it in storage.” When Jake looked at her questioningly, she explained, “He said he thought maybe a family member or a”—she broke eye contact again—“uh, boyfriend or someone would eventually come by for it.”
“That was nice of him.”
She nodded and stared at the dark, steaming liquid in her cup. “Yeah. Of course, there was no one to get it, so it was just there, waiting for me to pick it up and start over.”
Olivia looked across the table at him, but he glanced away. Her little dig had hit its mark. Good.
A few seconds of silence crept by before Olivia went on. “Anyway, he helped me move my stuff into the new apartment, and I went back to work at Dallas Regional. It was almost like I’d never left.”
“Except you had.”
She glanced up again, surprised to find understanding in his eyes. “Yeah. I had. And I was reminded of it every time I turned around. I couldn’t work on a patient
