Maddie had been asked to leave Jameson’s cubicle while he’d talked with the officer. She’d taken a seat in the ER lobby, tapping her nervous fingertips on her knees, waiting to get the ‘all clear’ to join him again. That was when she’d discovered the other side of Jameson Tenney. The Technicolor version. His story had been on every screen in the lobby, and all had been turned up to hear the latest.
The press loved him, hence their back-to-back coverage of the explosion at Conley Terminal on Boston Harbor, the bloody events earlier in the evening at the farmhouse in Virginia, his tours of duty, and well, pretty much his entire life story.
Maddie hadn’t realized she’d been in the company of a true war hero. But because of all the media coverage, she now knew precisely how he’d lost his sight. Yes, there had been a roadside bomb. What he hadn’t mentioned was that injury had occurred after he and his buddy rescued two little boys.
She’d leaned into the story then, her elbow on her knee, her chin cupped in the heel of her hand. It turned out, those boys were unwanted cast-offs, because both had down syndrome. They never knew they’d been pawns of ISIL that day, released into the desert, the sole intent for them to distract the SEAL team. To lure soft-hearted American warriors into the open.
Somehow, the news outlet had pictures of the boys. Both brown-skinned, dark-eyed, adorable urchins who’d since been adopted. But the boys hadn’t known they’d been chased by two SEALs hellbent on saving their little asses that day. The rescue had gone down quickly. Jameson and his buddy had saved those boys. All four were back undercover before the donkey had decided he wanted to be saved, too. That was when grubby, sad, little Eeyore had turned back around and headed for the SEALs. He was nearly to the wall they’d taken cover behind, when his hooves triggered a deadly daisy-chain of expertly hidden improvised explosive devices.
The boys were safe by then, both in the care of an Air Force PJ, whoever that was. But two SEALs died that day. One went home blind. That special operator was newly promoted USN Chief Petty Officer Jameson Tenney, whom the press declared was one-of-a-kind, an exceptional sailor. The deployment into Iraq that had cost Jameson his sight, went down mere weeks after he’d gotten ‘frocked,’ whatever that meant. The reporter on screen said he’d accomplished in five years what it took most sailors to accomplish in ten or more.
Maddie didn’t understand what E-5 exams, meritorious promotions, or EP waivers were. She only knew the humble man who’d run straight into trouble to rescue her today, had done it before. That he seemed to have no qualms about risking his life to save others. Yet he’d never once mentioned that trait or drawn attention to himself. And he had a lot to brag about.
Talk about a hero.
It was close to twenty-four-hours since she and Jameson had made love at the safe house. The night before that, she’d rescued Mr. Vlad, then survived a gunfight with Pops Delaney’s guys, when she’d gone back inside the farmhouse intent on rescuing Jameson. Turned out, he’d rescued her in more ways than he could ever know. She was light years beyond simple exhaustion, but what a couple of busy days. Thankfully, the press hadn’t cornered her yet. She hoped they never did. Her life story was dull compared to Jameson Tenney’s.
Because, right on schedule, as usual, Maddie doubted herself again. She’d made a huge mistake going alone to Boston, but she’d done it with the purest intentions. Only, she hadn’t. Not entirely, had she? She’d done it to save Jameson, but she’d also gone rogue, as Jameson had accused her of doing, mostly to prove her dad wrong.
Good grief, there seemed no way to close that long chapter in her life and move on without dragging her dad’s abuse behind her every step of the way. Everywhere she went, there he was. The moment she’d thought she’d finally left him behind, she devolved back into the weakling she’d been under his thumb. With every tentative step she’d taken on that dock, her dad had been in her head, criticizing, name-calling, and berating.
It had to end. She just didn’t know how to exorcise the vicious voice in her head that had always put her down. Why did people do that? Demean their children and call them names they’d remember for the rest of their lives? It was so hurtful.
“Hey, you,” Jameson purred as he squeezed her fingers. “You’re thinking too hard. I can tell.”
She swallowed, then admitted, “I’m not cut out to be an agent.”
“Yes, you are.” He winced as he pulled himself up higher on the already tilted bed. “You’re brave and you’re honest. You care about people and you’re willing to learn.”
He made it sound simple.
Maddie adjusted his pillow so he’d be more comfortable. He was a handsome disheveled mess with his dark hair mussed, and a full day’s worth of scruff shadowing his chin and jaw and down his neck. He’d lost his glasses during the showdown on the docks, and the day would never come that he’d be able to gaze longingly into her eyes, like romance heroes did with their damsels in distress. Their Cinderellas or their Sleeping Beauties. Their princesses.
Yet Jameson had always looked straight into her since they’d met. And he called her babe. Maybe that didn’t count to all the overconfident business women in the world. Maybe they took it as an insult. But to Maddie, the way Jameson said babe was a one-eighty change from
