Page 284 of Unexpected Heroine

“No doubt.”

Her laughter fades as our teasing dries up. “Maybe you should tell him we made up and leave it at that?”

“I don’t know.” My vision flicks around the room, lips bunching to one side of my mouth. “That still implies sexy times.”

Rolling her eyes, she huffs, “Fine. Then tell him I threw up some more. Or I tripped and broke a toe. Threw out my back. Pick a calamity. Highly likely one will happen before the end of the day anyhow.”

Knowing I must leave her soon, I shift slightly and capture her mouth in a sweet kiss. One almost as sweet as her.

“Love you,” she says as I pull away, the words floating to me on a wispy breath.

A lopsided grin tugs at my cheek as I’m hit with another bout of disbelief that I’m here with her. All the warmth and light she’s pouring into me is encapsulated by thick walls of gratitude. I’m overcome with a need to ensure she knows how much her forgiveness means to me.

“Sugar bear, I’ll never hide anything from you again. Thank you for giving me another chance. I promise you won’t regret it. I’m gonna be the man you need. I might still fuck up and say the wrong things at times, but I’ll never do anything to intentionally hurt you or betray your trust.”

“It might make me a fool, but I believe you, babe. There may be times I get mad again or sad about what happened. I can’t promise to put it behind me right away, especially considering how messed up my life is right now. I already know I’ll never be able to forget it, but I do forgive you.” She slopes her head to the side, her volume lowering. “There’s one thing I need from you, though.”

“Anything.”

“Forgive yourself.”

My breath catches as doubt cinches around my windpipe. “I don’t know if I can,” I admit, fulfilling my vow to always be honest. With everything. Even the inky streaks in my soul.

“I know. And after what you told me today, I understand why.” Her fingertips dig through my hair. “But I need you to try. Although I’ll help you as best I can, I think you should get professional help too. Can you do that for me?”

My chest tightens, and I grit my teeth as I fight off my automatic response to reject the suggestion.

For so long, I’ve avoided therapy, despite Big Al’s urging and the repeated requests of the psychologist who does Redleg’s annual mental health screenings.

Unearthing all the bullshit I’ve worked my life to forget is like torture—and that’s only once per year. The mere idea of regularly talking through that shit terrorizes me.

Yet when she looks at me with those sparkling eyes, so full of love for me, I know I’ll fold. And I do.

“I will, Lettie. I promise.”

Chapter 53

Pour some intel on me

TOMER

When I get back to Redleg, I’m greeted by whispers and sneaky glances.

Lots of them.

Hell, even alone in the elevator, I sense judgmental eyes on me. And it has nothing to do with the security cameras.

If they aren’t whispering as I pass, they’re struck mute, standing like terracotta warrior statues lined up in a row.

Word of Lettie’s jaw-dropping debut in the conference room this morning has clearly spread.

Have they all forgotten our lives are on the line? One would think that news would get top billing. And one would be wrong. Juicy gossip supersedes risk to life and limb, apparently.

Yet another example of how people make as much sense as tits on a toaster.

A smile plays at the corner of my mouth at my mental word choice. Tits on a toaster has Lettie written all over it.

My heart has Lettie written all over it as well.

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