Page 42 of Code Name: Tank
The canoe glided smoothly across Canada Lake’s calm surface. Tank paddled behind me, steering us toward the small island that had looked so distant from the shore. The only sounds were the canoe cutting through the water and the gentle lapping of waves against the hull.
“How often do you come out here?” I asked in a soft voice, not wanting to break the peaceful atmosphere.
“When I need to think or when the compound gets too crowded.”
I understood the feeling. Living and working in close quarters with the same people could be overwhelming, even when you liked them.
As we approached Nick Stoner Island, I could see it was indeed small—maybe fifty feet across—but it had a naturalclearing among the pine trees that would provide perfect shelter for a fire.
Tank beached the canoe as if he’d done it hundreds of times, then helped me out onto the rocky shore. “Watch your step,” he said, his hand steadying me as we made our way up the slope to the clearing.
Within minutes, he’d built a small fire using the supplies from his bag. The flames cast dancing shadows on the surrounding trees and reflected off the water beyond. It was magical, intimate in a way that made my heart race.
“This is beautiful,” I said as we settled on the blanket he’d brought, the fire crackling between us as we leaned against a fallen log and stared up at the star-filled sky above.
“I thought you might like it,” he said, pulling out a bag of marshmallows. He handed me a long stick he’d whittled to a point. “Fair warning—I take my s’mores seriously.”
I laughed, and it felt so good after the tension-filled past hour. “Good to know. Are there rules I should be aware of?”
“Golden brown, not charred. Patience is key.” Tank’s grin was boyish, showing me a side of him I’d never seen. “Though I have backup marshmallows if you’re a burner.”
“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent marshmallow roaster,” I said, spearing one and holding it over the coals.
For a while, we focused on the pleasure of making s’mores, the conversation easy and natural. Tank had brought chocolate bars and graham crackers to create perfect little sandwiches that were messy and delicious.
“Thank you,” I said when we’d finished eating and the fire had dwindled into glowing embers. “For tonight, for intervening with Flint, for just being here.”
Tank’s brow furrowed. “I told you I’m not him, Piper. I meant it.”
“I’m beginning to understand that.” I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. “Flint and I—what we had wasn’t healthy. I can see that now, but at the time, I thought it was love.”
“What changed?”
“A lot. Three years on my own.” I looked up at him. “And I know you’re fully aware of what I mean by that. I isolated myself to the point where I became a recluse outside of work.” My cheeks felt warm, but I had to keep going. “Then you came along.” I took a deep breath, willing myself to continue honestly. “How you treat me, how you respect my boundaries while still making it clear you care. Flint never did that. He was charming, but he was also controlling. He made decisions for me, about me, without asking what I wanted.”
Tank was quiet for a moment, staring into the dying fire. “In Prague, when things went wrong—what happened?”
I’d been expecting this question, dreading it, but sitting here, in the peaceful darkness, with him beside me, it felt safe to tell the truth.
“Our op went south, and Internal Affairs launched an investigation.” I gave him a rueful smile. “Someone had leaked information that resulted in us losing an asset.”
Tank’s jaw tightened. “They suspected you of wrongdoing?”
“They suspected Flint too. But long before the inquiry launched, he disappeared. He was just gone. I woke up and found a note saying he was entering witness protection and that it was better this way.” I swallowed hard, remembering the devastation of that morning. “I had to face the probe alone. Defend not just my actions, but his too, without knowing where he was or what he’d told his handlers.”
“Jesus.” Tank’s voice was rough with anger. “He abandoned you.”
“The worst part was that I kept making excuses for him, kept believing he’d done it to protect me. It took me months to accept that he’d chosen saving himself over standing by me.”
“That’s not love. That’s not even a partnership.”
“No, it’s not.” I gazed up at him, this man who’d proven in just a few days that he was everything Flint had pretended to be. “Tank, what’s happening between us?—”
“Scares the hell out of you,” he finished.
I nodded. “But not in the way you might think. It scares me because I want it. Because I’m starting to trust you in ways I swore I never would again. And honestly, it feels too soon, but I guess it really isn’t.”
Tank shifted closer. “I’m scared too. This job, what we’re dealing with—it’s not the ideal time to start something.”
