Page 3 of Inevitable
I finally picked up my duffle bag from the floor and walked to the side of the bed.
The thick layer of ice around my heart cracked just a little as I glanced down at the serene expression on her face as she slept.
Yeah, unfortunately, I’d rememberher.
The memories over the last several days played over and over in my head as my eyes swept over her beautiful face.
Christ!I needed to get out of Emma’s vacation rental because I was actually tempted to leave her my number, even though we’d promised each other this was all just a fling.
Leave, Marshall. Get your ass moving.
Leaving my number so we could stay in contact wasnotpart of the deal I’d made with Emma, and I was a man of my word.
I dropped a small box onto the bedside table next to her side of the bed before I turned and walked toward the door.
Gifts were probably not part of the deal, either, but I didn’t give a shit.
Maybe there was part of me that wanted Emma to remember the last five days because I knew I’d probably never entirely manage to forget them.
Hell, they’d been the best five days of my life.
Move, Marshall. You’re married to the Navy and always will be.
I was close to forty years old.
My life was already mapped out with nothing but the SEALS in my future.
I was too damn old to change, and Emma was way too good for a guy like me.
I opened the front door, then flipped the lock on the handle so the door would lock behind me.
I took the stairs quickly, trying to put some distance between myself and temptation.
I definitely wouldn’t change, but for the first time in my life, there had been a woman in my life that had made me temporarily wish that I could.
Chapter 1
Marshall
San Diego, California
The Present…
“Here’s your damn cookies that Shelby made for you,” Wyatt Durand grumbled unhappily as he reluctantly dropped the tin of cookies onto the table as he entered the conference room at Last Hope headquarters.
I was already seated in front of a laptop computer at the long table. I smirked as I snagged the cookies and put them near my computer.
Wyatt was possessive about his wife’s cookies, and he hated it when she gave them to anyone else but him.
I liked him, but I enjoyed harassing him about Shelby. It wasn’t that long ago when he’d sworn he wasn’t interested in any kind of commitment or relationship.
“Was it really that painful?” I asked Wyatt with a straight face.
“Yes,” he answered gruffly as he took a seat next to me in the room. “Shelby is a chef, but she doesn’t bake that often. I like you, Marshall, but I’d prefer to keep her baked goods for myself.”
Wyatt was a billionaire and perfectly capable of flying in the best pastries on the planet to his home in San Diego.
Not that Shelby’s cookies weren’t incredible. I coveted them myself. I was pretty sure that Wyatt was possessive ofanythingthat was created by his wife.
