Felicity staggered to the desk and sank onto the chair. What just happened? He didn’t give them a chance. He didn’t give her a chance to tell him that she’d... That she’d what? What she would do for them?
She looked around the photo lab, taking in the pictures hanging on the walls that she’d shot over the last week, and realized with certainty she enjoyed this job and would gladly stay in it, if that meant she and Westley could be together.
But obviously he didn’t want her to be with him. Or maybe he did, but he was too scared. Either way, the outcome was the same. He’d walked away from her. From them.
A little voice inside her challenged, What are you going to do about it, Felicity?
She rose and walked to the window to stare out at the late April morning enveloping Canyon Air Force Base in a warm glow. She contemplated the question.
What could she do? She’d told him she loved him and he still left. Did she chase after him like some crazy stalker?
No. He didn’t want her.
She would just have to learn to live without him.
Westley stared into the depths of his root-beer bottle. Around him conversation and laughter abounded through Canyon Air Force Base’s popular diner. He sat at the counter because the thought of a table for one didn’t appeal.
He ached from head to toe. Not from physical exertion, though he’d run the dogs and handlers hard the last two days in between searching for more of the missing dogs. No, he hurt because he missed Felicity and Dakota.
Lieutenant General Hall had agreed to let Westley rotate out of Felicity’s detail and leave Dakota in place for her security.
Knowing Dakota was keeping watch over Felicity gave Westley some comfort, but he missed her laughter and the joy on her face as she captured images with her camera. And while he hated for her to experience it, he also missed the sorrow that at times darkened her eyes when she didn’t think he noticed.
He noticed everything about her. And loved everything about her.
I’m in love with you, Westley.
Her words were sweet torment.
But it was for the best that he kept a distance between them, for both of their sakes. And if he kept reminding himself of that fact, at some point it had to become true, right?
A hand slapped him on the back of the shoulder. “Drowning your sorrows there, Westley?”
Westley slanted a glance sidewise to see Special Agent Ian Steffen sliding onto the stool next to him. He sat up straight. “No, sir.” He winced. “I mean, yes, sir.”
Ian waved off the formality. “Relax. We’re just two guys sitting at a counter having a soda.” Ian gave the amber bottle nestled in Westley’s hand a once-over. “Root beer. Okay. I’ll take one of those,” he told the waitress who came over. She nodded, grabbed a bottle from refrigerator, popped off the top and plunked it down on the counter in front of Ian before walking away.
Westley sank back into his dejected mode. Funny how easy it was. He’d thought he’d long ago shaken off feeling sorry for himself, but without Felicity in his life, he felt lost and adrift. The future he’d once seen so clearly had dissolved into mist. He didn’t know what to do now. It all seemed so bleak.
“Cyberintelligence cracked the pass code on the folder in Graham’s tablet,” Ian told him.
Westley gave the man his attention. “And?”
“As we thought, it contained all of Graham’s case notes on the hit-and-run, including incriminating evidence against his brother-in-law,” Ian replied. “Not that we need the evidence with all that transpired.”
“But at least we know for sure,” Westley said. He peeled at the label of the root beer bottle. He was glad for Felicity’s sake that she had closure on her father’s death.
After a beat of silence, Ian asked, “What ails you?”
Westley shrugged. “It’s been a long week.” Actually a long few days. Days without Felicity in his life.
“You want to tell me why you asked to be rotated off Staff Sergeant Monroe’s protection detail?”
Should he confess to the OSI agent that he’d grown fond...no, fond wasn’t the right word. Grown to love his charge?
If he did, there would be no going back.
“Personal reasons,” he finally said. He wouldn’t put either of their careers, especially Felicity’s, in jeopardy.
Ian gave him a dubious look. “Right. I think you’ve fallen in love with the pretty staff sergeant and are afraid to do anything about it.”
Westley choked on a sip of root beer. He cleared his throat and took probably one of the biggest gambles of his career by looking the agent in the eye. “Excuse me?”
Ian grinned. “Man, it’s obvious.” His dark eyes actually twinkled with certainty. Westley couldn’t decide if the roiling in his stomach came from relief or terror. “I remember that feeling from long ago when I first met my late wife.”
“Do you regret falling in love?” Westley asked. The thought of losing Felicity terrified him. But so did living without her. He couldn’t win.
It was Ian’s turn to stare into the abyss of his root-beer bottle. “I learned along the way that regret only breeds discontentment. You do what you do, with the most information you have at the time, and sometimes it works great.” He lifted a muscular shoulder. “Sometimes not so much, but at least you did something.” He stared Westley in the eyes. “Running away isn’t doing something. It’s chickening out. Running away is not what we do in the US Air Force.”
Westley straightened. “I’m not running away.”
“Looks that way to me.”
“I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize her career. She wants to be a dog trainer. We can’t be in the same chain of command.”
Ian arched an eyebrow. “You could move over to Security Forces and be a dog handler. You could leave the service and go into civilian law enforcement.”
Westley had thought of those same options. “I don’t know what would be the right decision.” He blew out a breath and pushed back against the counter. “Frankly, I don’t feel worthy of her love.”
Ian shook his head. “I never pegged you as insecure. Get over yourself. Does she love you?”
A tremble coursed through Westley. “She said she did.”
The man scoffed. “What are you sitting here for? That’s where you start,” Ian insisted. “All the rest of the decisions will work themselves out.”
Could it be that simple? “I wish her father was here so I can ask for her hand, because he would either give me his blessing or tell me to get lost.”
“Still sounds vaguely to me like you’re looking for another excuse to bolt. But that’s just me.” Ian shrugged.
Westley shook his head. “Agent Steffen, don’t go easy on me, or anything—”
“Okay, okay.” Ian laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Just saying...” He trailed off, then eyed Westley speculatively. “She has a mother, you know.”
“Yes, yes, she does.”
“Colleen Monroe is a tough and shrewd woman. If you can obtain her blessing then you’re set.”
Westley