In the Likely Event

“No. These”—he pointed to the name tag—“are for you guys, not us. It’s what you need to call me—if I stay. I told you I’m not supposed to be here.” He glanced toward the window and then back, as if meeting my eyes was something . . . painful.

“Where are you supposed to be?” Was there someone else in his life now? Someone who had the right to know if he made it home? Someone waiting? A nauseating twist of jealousy struck deep inside me, souring my stomach.

“On leave in the Maldives.” He had the decency to look a little guilty.

I blinked. “You were going to the Maldives?” Indignation heated my blood. “Funny, but I thought that was an October thing.” Did our pact mean absolutely nothing to him? Of course it didn’t. He’d blatantly shown me that for the last three years.

“Yeah.” He flinched. “But Sergeant Brown came down with something, so I filled in for him.”

“Let me guess. Sergeant Brown isn’t his real name either?”

“Just roll with it.” He finished off his water and twisted the top back on. “Point is, you walked off that plane.”

“And?” I shrugged and forced a fake smile. “You can still go to the Maldives. Just assign me to someone else.” It sounded empty and fake because it was. It didn’t matter how pissed I was at Nate, how wrong things had gone the last time we’d been in the same room; I couldn’t bear the thought of him walking away. Not again. Not like this.

“Yeah, okay.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh and sent me a pointed stare. “Because it’s that easy.”

My heart stumbled through its next few beats. The air thickened and charged as we stood there, our eyes locked on each other across the small, mine-laden distance between us. One wrong step and we’d both bleed out.

“I know,” I admitted softly. “It’s not easy. Never has been.”

He nodded curtly and looked away, breaking the spell.

I sucked in a breath.

“I don’t get it. You’re about to spend two weeks in some of the most inhospitable areas known to man, hopping province to province, all so you can what? Feel better about how not stable this country is and label it fact-finding?”

My spine jerked ramrod stiff. “We’re here to write down our observations about how the drawdown is going, and you know it.”

“And you won’t go home?” His eyes met mine, the plea blatant.

“No.” I swallowed back the truth on the tip of my tongue. If he knew why I was really here, would he help? Or throw me out faster? “I’ll do the tour Senator Lauren requested and then meet her when she arrives next week. And no one is supposed to know—”

“You’re here. Yeah, I get that a lot.” He raked his hand over his thick, dark hair and blew out a slow breath.

I felt his sigh in every bone of my body, until it became my own.

“Fine. Then this is how it’s going to go.” He pushed off the door and chucked the bottle into the trash with excellent aim. “I’m Sergeant Green to you. Not Nate. You can never call me Nate. Not out there. Not in here. Not anywhere. Got it?”

“If you insist.” I had to tilt my head back to keep eye contact as he came closer—whether it was the fact that I was barefoot and he was in boots, or just being apart for three years, the guy felt huge next to me.

“I insist. Anonymity is a requirement in this line of work. In here, you can be as belligerent and . . .” He struggled for a word. “Izzy as you want, but out there”—he pointed to the door—“out there you listen to what I say, and do what I ask when I ask it.”

“Nate—” I cringed. Shit, I was never going to get this right.

He arched a single brow at me. “As. Soon. As. I. Say. It.”

“Have you always been a pain in the ass?” I fired back.

“That’s pretty funny, coming from you.”

I rolled my eyes and folded my arms across my chest.

He glanced down and winced, jerking his focus to a spot over my head as he took another deep breath. “I’ll be at all your meetings, your meals, and the one who stands outside the door when you pee.”

“That’s graphic.”

“If you need me, I will be across the hall tonight and every other night that you’re in Afghanistan. If your life is at risk, press this button.” He pushed a remote the size of my thumb into my hand and let its black nylon necklace hang loose. “And I will appear.”

I looked down at the device and huffed a sarcastic laugh. “So this is what it takes to get your phone number? A girl has to haul herself into a war zone?”

“Izzy,” he whispered, stepping back and putting a few feet of distance between us.

“Oh no.” I pocketed the magic-button remote. “If I can’t call you Nate, then you don’t get to call me Izzy. Fair is fair.”

“Well, I’m not calling you Isa, that’s for damn sure,” he shot back. “I’m not your father.”

My father. Because he knew that had been Dad’s pet name for me. He knew all sorts of things he shouldn’t because he was Nate and I was Izzy, and as screwed up as this place was, facts were facts. History was history.

“Then Ms. Astor will be just fine.”

“Then have a great evening, Ms. Astor.” He gave me a mock salute and headed for the door. “I’ll be here bright and early to fetch you for our first destination.”

After all this time, this was where we were? Not quite strangers or enemies, but . . . bitter what? Acquaintances?

“So you’re staying on my detail?” My voice hitched, and he heard it, pausing midstep before turning to face me.

“You won’t leave, which means neither can I. Simple physics.” His gaze narrowed. “But you weren’t supposed to be here, either, were you? Greg Newcastle is supposed to be in this room.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “You can assign me to someone else,” I offered again in a rush.

He ignored me. “So why did you get on the plane? Did Newcastle get sick too?”

I swallowed.

“Huh. Not sick, then. It was your choice.” He tilted his head. “Why did you add Kunduz and Samangan to the itinerary? Those weren’t on the list before you got on that plane.” He stalked forward.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“All of your little friends are sticking to the east, and Newcastle was focused on Kandahar. Something about the girls’ chess team Senator Lauren has been working to get out.”

“Hey, that was actually my project. I’m the one who’s been coordinating everything. Newcastle just wanted the credit.”

He stopped right in front of me, staring down like he could see right through me if he tried hard enough. “And yet you added two provinces to the north.”

“Nate,” I whispered, already breaking the rules.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“I . . .” I shook my head and closed my eyes. I could have lied to anyone else, but not him.

“Don’t even think of lying to me.” His thumb and forefinger gently lifted my chin. “What’s going on?”

I opened my eyes and my heart clenched. Under all that armor, this was Nate. My Nate. He would help, I knew he would . . . as long as I wasn’t putting myself in danger. That was where he’d draw the line. And if he thought I was already in danger just being here, there was every chance he’d tie me to the seat of the next outbound aircraft once I told him the truth.

“What’s in the north, Isabeau?” My name was nothing more than a whisper.

“Serena.”





CHAPTER SIX


NATHANIEL


Saint Louis