Page 25 of Rescuing Josiah
Only with Chelsea, it didn't feel as uncomfortable as he expected.
She wasn't afraid of him. If it weren't for the fact that she’d climbed onto his lap to soothe him, he might not have believed it. But she wouldn't have done that if she feared him. Wouldn't have touched him with gentleness, uttered soft, reassuring words, and told him she understood.
Chelsea was right, no one could truly understand what it was like to survive an onslaught of bullets that took out the entirerest of your team. Men you respected, considered brothers, trusted in a way most people would never trust another human being. To lose them was devastating, but to be the only survivor … that hurt more than anything else.
He should be dead right now.
For the last six years, he had wished daily that he’d died alongside his team.
But today … today instead of wishing he was dead, he worried about who would be here with Chelsea right now if he’d died that day. Someone else would have done this undercover mission, he was sure of it, and Chelsea may or may not have volunteered to tag along. If she had, whoever was with her couldn’t have cared more about her safety than he did.
Not possible.
“No tricks? You're no fun.” Chelsea pouted, but amusement danced in her big, gray eyes.
Those eyes reminded him of storm clouds, but not the dangerous kind that brought damaging winds and flooding rains, the kind that came after a long, hot summer’s day, clearing away the heat and refreshing the landscape.
That’s how she made him feel.
Refreshed. Almost clean. Almost.
“You’re incorrigible,” he muttered, but one side of his mouth couldn’t help but kick up into something that almost resembled a smile. Her answering smile was nothing short of a burst of sunlight, and because he was supposed to be in character now anyway, Josiah didn't resist the urge to reach out and brush his knuckles along her cheek like he normally would.
Somehow her smile got brighter, as did his urge to kiss her.
One taste.
That couldn’t hurt anything.
Could it?
Of course it could. More than that, it could destroy the delicate balance he maintained only by ruthlessly keeping his emotions in check.
Thankfully, before he could do something stupid like throw caution to the wind and finally kiss the woman who had the power to decimate his control, Chelsea’s name was called, and they both stood.
While he could claim the only reason he reached for her hand was because of their charade, that would have been a lie. The reason he took her hand was simple. Because he wanted to. Nothing more and nothing less. The more time he spent with her, the harder it was to maintain control.
“How are you this morning, Mrs. Fleet?” Dr. Wood asked as he ushered them both into his office. The man had had his secretary organize this appointment at the last minute, they weren't supposed to meet with him again for another week. Since the meeting was at the hospital and not some undisclosed location where the trafficking ring might try to ambush them, they were both assuming this was going to be good news.
“Well, I'm feeling okay, as good as I can hope for right now, but …” Chelsea trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip and darting glances to him and then back to the doctor. If he didn't know better, he would believe that she was scared of something, definitely nervous. Who knew the woman was such a good actress? If she’d told him of her skills, maybe he wouldn't have worried quite so much about taking on this mission with her.
Maybe.
But probably not.
Most likely, he would have worried just as much.
“Yes?” Dr. Wood prompted. While they couldn’t say the man was cold and calculating, he also wasn't warm and fuzzy. Not the kind of doctor you felt truly cared about you as a person, but not one who made you feel like a bother either. The kind you usuallytrusted because they were friendly enough and also professional enough that you believed they could save you.
“Is it bad news?” Chelsea blurted out as he guided her into a seat.
“Bad news?” Dr. Wood asked.
“We weren't supposed to see you again until next week, but your assistant called and said we needed to come in today,” Chelsea explained. “I was hoping that didn't mean you had bad news for us.”
“Oh no, not at all,” the doctor rushed to assure her as he rounded his desk and dropped into his plush leather chair. “The opposite in fact.”
“Opposite?” Josiah demanded as he took the room’s only other chair, the one beside Chelsea, and threw the doctor a glare. Thankfully, he did not have to play much of a role because his acting skills were not up there with Chelsea’s. They were passable, but this wasn't the usual work he’d done as a SEAL, or working as part of Prey’s Cyber Team.
