She didn’t wait for an answer. She couldn’t. She’d been holding everything together for so long on her own, she was ready to break. She’d put Isaac and Josh behind her. She had goals now. A direction of her very own. No mother guiding her to an acceptable place in life, no absent husband placing confining expectations on her. No friend stealing her heart.
She turned and walked into the rain. “My life may not look perfect to you, but it’s mine, and it’s staying that way. Find your own way to a hotel.”
Hold it together. Hold it together.
“We may not be perfect, Grace,” he said, coming up alongside her, “but Beck and I would have been here for you if you needed us.”
She stopped and turned on him, outraged he’d claim such bullshit. “Really? Where is Beck right now? Oh, wait, classified, right? Let’s narrow it down—is he in the United States?” When Josh glanced away, she said, “I thought not. And what about you? When’s the last time I heard from you?”
His jaw shifted sideways, gaze lowered to the ground for only a second before he met her eyes with familiar determination. “I’m here now.”
Way too little, way too late.
“Ironically, I don’t need you now. And I never needed Isaac.” She turned toward her car again, and the rain came down harder. By the time she reached the cheap little sedan, her clothes clung to her body.
“Is that why you’re not answering his calls?” Josh called behind her. “Because you’re too damn stubborn to accept help?”
Grace’s feet stopped dead in a puddle. She swung around on her heel and took three steps back toward him before she stopped herself. “That’s why you’re here—Isaac called you.” She threw her hands out, caught between fury and heartbreak. “Of course that’s why you’re here—for Isaac. Not for me.” She started for the car again, shaking now, but not from the cold or the wet. She was shaking with anger, disillusionment, hurt. So much hurt. “God, I’m so fucking stupid.”
Water splashed around her flip-flops and squished through her toes. She should have been freezing, but she only felt numb. Why did she keep falling for physically and emotionally unreachable men? Men who were never satisfied with who she was?
She fumbled with her keys, struggling to find the one for her car through the rain and welling tears.
“He heard a rumor that you were stripping, and—“
Grace pivoted toward him, eyes narrowed. “A rumor?” That was a strange turn of phrase…or maybe she was just oversensitive. “How did he hear a rumor like that when he’s all the way across the fucking world?”
“Someone from another SEAL team was here. He recognized you in a photo from your anniversary trip to Mexico.”
She closed her eyes. “The trip from hell?”
“Couldn’t have been all bad. Beck still has fond memories of—”
“Isaac is clueless, Josh. He may be a good man and an amazing soldier, but he’s clueless in just about every other area of his life.” She turned away again, muttering, “I’m starting to wonder if that’s a prerequisite to become a SEAL.”
“Wait, Grace, we can talk this out.”
“I don’t have anything else to say.” Christ, that had come out in her borderline hysterical voice. But she couldn’t control the wild emotions as she faced him again. “You already know I’m not stripping. And even if I was, it wouldn’t give either of you the right to shove your two cents at me. And, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine. So when you talk to Isaac again, you can tell him I don’t need either one of you. Which works out fine, because neither of you ever really wanted me either.”
Tears swam in her eyes. Angry tears. Hurt tears. Sick-to-death-of-this-shit tears. She jammed her key into the door lock and clicked it open. Josh pulled her around to face him again, trapping her against the car, and stared down into her face with frustration darkening his expression.
“I didn’t walk away because I didn’t want you, Gracie,” he said, his words so low they were almost drowned by the night sounds. Rain dripped off his straight nose and clumped his golden eyelashes. His smoky blue eyes lowered to her mouth in a languid way that told Grace the alcohol was still singing in his bloodstream. “I walked away because I did.”
Grace’s lips parted with another protective, dismissive remark, but nothing came out. Her throat tightened into a ball. Her mind teetered between believing the sincere declaration in the moment and brushing it aside.
“Sure. That’s why you moved to LA when I told you how I felt.” She drew a breath, forcing herself to put self-preservation first. “Here’s what I learned during those four long years married to Isaac—action, not words, is what separates the boys from the men. And I’ve had more than enough little boys in my life.”