“I try to be. Although I have to admit, it doesn’t always work.” I finished the salad, setting down the knife. “What was Ethan like as a child?”
Margaret’s face softened with memory. “So serious, even then. Protective. If kids were picking on his sister or anyone smaller, Ethan was right there, standing between them and trouble.” She chuckled. “Nobody was surprised when he joined the military, or when he started Citadel. It’s who he’s always been.”
The image of little Ethan standing up for others made my heart swell. I thought about how he’d come back for me at the club when everyone else had left me behind. How he’d broken down that dressing room door when I was trapped with that grotesque package. How he’d brought me here to heal when he saw I was falling apart.
“Now, Samantha… We met her, but not here. She had no interest in coming here.” Margaret’s expression grew thoughtful. “We thought he might settle down with her. She was very driven, very ambitious.”
“And that wasn’t good?” I asked, thinking of my own career managing Nova. Did they see me the same way?
“Oh, ambition is fine. It was that she seemed to view Ethan as an accessory to her success, not a partner.” Margaret wiped her hands on a towel. “Doug and I were relieved when they broke up. She wasn’t a good fit.”
My stomach knotted. “I’m worried I might not be a good fit either. I’m in such a transition time in my life. I don’t know what’s next for me.”
“Honey,” Margaret said gently, her eyes kind, “Ethan can handle transition. What he can’t handle is pretense. What matters is that you’re authentic about caring for him. Are you?”
“Yes.” The word came without hesitation, surprising mewith its certainty. Whatever confusion I felt about my future, my feelings for Ethan were the clearest thing in my life. “Absolutely.”
“Then that’s what matters.” She handed me a bowl of rolls. “Now, let’s feed these hungry men before they get cranky.”
Chapter 30
Ethan
There was something deeply satisfying about standing next to my father at the grill. The familiar ritual of fire, meat, and male conversation had been part of my life since I was tall enough to hold a spatula. The scent of charcoal and sizzling steaks brought me back to countless summer evenings just like this one.
“So,” Dad said, flipping a steak with practiced precision, “you’re lucky your mom isn’t telling me to rip you a new one right now. You know if she’d known you were bringing company, she would’ve?—”
I finished the sentence before Dad could. “Worked herself into a tizzy cleaning? Made four different pies? Gone out and gotten her hair done?”
Dad chuckled. “Yes, probably all that stuff.”
“I didn’t want it to be a big production. I wanted Mel to see you guys just as you are.”
I’d been planning to bring Mel to meet my parents since our conversation on the ridge. But telling them in advance wouldhave meant explaining who she was, what she meant to me, and I wasn’t sure I had the words for that yet.
“She seems like a keeper.” Dad’s voice was casual, but his eyes held meaning when they met mine. “Different from your usual type.”
“I have a type?”
“Strong, yes. But usually more…” He paused, searching for the word. “Aggressive? Career-focused to the exclusion of all else?”
Samantha’s face flashed through my mind. “Mel’s plenty strong,” I said, adjusting the heat on the grill. “Just in a different way.”
“I can see that. I like it.” Dad nodded, setting the spatula down. “How’s everything else going? Your team. Logan settling back in okay?”
The question didn’t surprise me. Logan had spent a few weeks here after a particularly rough mission had triggered his PTSD. My parents had taken him in without question, given him space to heal.
“He’s handling it,” I replied. “Some nights are better than others, but the work keeps him grounded.”
“And the current assignment? Pop star security sounds a far cry from extracting hostages in Colombia.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “It’s had its moments. Someone broke in to Nova’s house, left threatening messages. We had an incident at a club in New Orleans that could have turned ugly.” I didn’t mention the dead raccoon or how it had affected Mel. That wasn’t my story to share.
“Sounds like you’re not missing the more…extreme assignments.”
“Surprisingly, no.” I checked the steaks, but it was just for something to do with my hands. “And not just because of the lack of constant action. I can see us taking more cases like this.The team works well together, and the challenges are different but still engaging.”
“Good.” Dad’s hand squeezed my shoulder. “It’s time you stopped running, son.”