“HER NAME? MY friend’s name?”
Josh searched for the right answer. He couldn’t give Officer Peters the truth. He glanced over at the driveway and watched as the Benz backed out with Caroline at the wheel.
You can trust me to keep your secret safe.
He turned his attention back to the police officer. Josh offered a faint smile. “My friend’s name is Josie Fair— No, sorry, she’s Josie Tager now.”
He’d keep her secret all right. And he’d make an ass of himself while he spit out a simple little lie.
“She’s recently married?” the officer asked as he scribbled in his notepad.
“Yes. Josie just tied the knot. But not to me,” Josh explained with a laugh. “We’re just friends. I volunteered to drive her down here. To see her friend.”
The police officer nodded.
“So,” Josh said, clapping his hands together. “How much longer will you need me?”
Thirty minutes later, Josh pulled into the hotel garage, put his truck in park, and glanced down at his phone. Midnight. He should call Big Buck’s and fill Noah, Dominic, and whoever else was at the bar in on what had happened tonight. But instead, he climbed out of his truck and pocketed his phone.
Later, he decided. First, he needed to see Caroline, hold her, and make damn sure she was all right. He bypassed the hotel’s elevator bank in favor of the stairs. He took them two at a time until he reached the door to the fourth floor. It had been hard to get away from the cops and their questions or he would have been here before now to reassure her that he hadn’t shared her name or her secret.
He’d lied for her. And he would maintain the charade, here and at home, whatever she needed to feel safe and stay in his life. He wouldn’t lose her. Not to her past or anything else. They could pretend and lie to the rest of the world—in his heart he knew the truth.
He slipped his card key into the door and opened it to the room. “It’s Josh,” he announced as he stepped inside. He spotted Helena in the black desk chair. She held a tiny bottle of wine that looked as if it had come from the room’s mini-fridge. Another bottle sat on the desk, empty.
“Celebrating?” he asked as he glanced to the bathroom door. It was open. But there was no sign of Caroline.
“She left,” Helena said.
“Caroline went out?” He turned back to the woman they’d helped. He wouldn’t say ‘rescued’ because Caroline had been right, Helena had saved herself. “If I’d known you ladies were hungry, I would have stopped and picked something up on my way back.”
Helena pressed her lips together. She’d scrubbed off the makeup and looked years younger and a lot more vulnerable. “No, she called a cab. But she wrote you a note.”
Numbness descended. His body felt as if he’d been plunged into the Pacific’s icy waters without a wet suit. But he managed to walk across the hotel room, past the spot where Caroline had . . .
Fuck, he c
ouldn’t picture her on her knees. He couldn’t go backward through the memories, searching for a clue until he knew what the hell was going on. He took the folded piece of paper from the tipsy Helena and turned his back to her.
Flipping it open, he started to read. And shit, one sentence in and he needed a shot of something—whiskey, vodka, or liquid rage—anything to dull the damn pain of his heart shattering.
Dear Josh,
By the time you get this, I will be at the police station.
Fuck, fuck, fuck . . . He’d been dodging failure, trying to navigate their complicated relationship like it was a damn minefield from the beginning. He’d worried her problems were too big and he’d been right.
He looked down at the paper and forced himself to keep reading.
It’s time that I turned myself in and faced the consequences for running away from my duty to serve. Until I do, I will never have a chance at getting my life back on track. I can’t ask you to love me and lie for me without dooming our relationship. You said something always happens next. And this is what’s next for me.
I’m ready now to face my punishment. I will return to my unit if I have to, accept a demotion or serve my time in prison. But I will not let anyone make me feel like I need to be less ever again. I know now what happens when I push past ‘impossible.’
I fall in love.
I love you, Josh Summers. But don’t you dare wait for me. Go back to Oregon and build your house. Take another chance on finding happiness. I’d hate to think we’re limited to two shots. If we are, then I’ve used mine up. And that, more than anything, feels impossible.
Love,