The collective sigh of relief was nearly enough to ruffle the hair around her face.
“Told you I was right about her.” Emily nudged Christian.
One of the two massive garage doors at the front of the shop began to open. “Ozzie’s back,” Becky said. “You ready?”
Samantha shook her head, her heart pounding. She was absolutely reeling from everything she’d heard. But all that melted away, because…Ozzie. “Ready?” She looked at Becky like the woman might have six heads. “Hell no. I’m scared to death.”
“You’d be an idiot if you weren’t,” General Fuller muttered, still noshing gummy bears. “Telling someone you love them, letting yourself be that vulnerable to another human being, is one of the most terrifying things a person can do.”
Samantha blinked. Did the freaking head of the freaking Joint Chiefs really just say that to her?
“Ah, Pete.” The president clapped a hand on the general’s forearm. “I love it when you let your inner tender heart out to play.”
“Fuck off,” the general said, his image leaving the camera’s field of view. “I need some coffee.”
So surreal, Samantha mused in amazement. Then she turned at the sound of biker boots on the metal treads. Ozzie topped the stairs, pulling off his helmet and shaking out his shaggy hair.
“What the hell?” He eyed them all. Samantha knew the moment his gaze fell on her. She felt his eyes roaming over her face like a physical touch.
“And here’s where I take my leave,” President Thompson said. “I suggest the rest of you do the same.” He leaned forward, and the computer screen went blank.
Samantha could sense the group shuffling away, heading into various offices. She didn’t turn to watch them go. She only had eyes for Ozzie.
Pushing to a wobbly stand, she walked over to him on gelatinous knees. She didn’t remember him being so tall. Has he grown? Or so broad-shouldered. Has he been hitting the gym extra hard? But she did remember his eyes. Those blue-sky eyes that looked at her and really saw her.
“Have you been crying?” were the first words out of his mouth. A muscle ticked in his jaw as his gaze darted to the office doors through which his friends and coworkers had disappeared. “What the hell is happening here? Did they threaten you? I’ll fucking—”
“No.” She grabbed his arms. His motorcycle jacket concealed the warmth of his skin, but there was no concealing the way his muscles bunched at her touch. “No one threatened me.”
“I don’t understand.” He frowned down at her. “Why are you here? Why was the president on the monitor? Why—”
“We’ll get to that later,” she assured him. “First, there are three things I want to tell you.”
He blinked, the pulse in his tan neck pounding like crazy. “Go on.”
This was it. The moment of truth. Her heart stuttered. The breath in her lungs burned. She could feel herself chickening out, so she hurriedly said, “The first thing is thank you.”
His chin jerked back, that wonderful square chin covered with that delightful light-brown beard. “For what?”
“For finding Victor Fisk for me. For spending all that time and effort and money—”
“Goddamn Becky,” he growled. “She never minds her own fucking business. I was going to mail that information to you with a letter explaining—”
Samantha went up on tiptoe and cupped his face in her hands. It made the words strangle in his throat. He searched her eyes. “The second thing is…I know.”
She could feel the muscles in his jaw working beneath her palms. “Know what?”
“All about who you really are. What you really do. And don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. All of BKI’s secrets are safe with me.”
There was dawning understanding in his eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Why would they tell you about—”
“Because they knew you never would,” she cut in. “Because they thought you had a right to have your truth known. Because they love you.” His whiskers abraded her palms. And she wanted nothing more than to kiss his velvety lips. But there was one more thing she needed to tell him. The thing. The one that would make or break her.
“And the third thing?” Ozzie blinked rapidly, his eyes overly bright.
Here goes. “I’m in love with you,” she blurted.
He sucked in a startled breath.
She could feel every one of his muscles lock into place. “I apologize for the unpolished delivery, but it’s true. I’m in love with you. It’s that simple and that complicated. And I know…I know you probably don’t feel the same about me. Which is why I’ve been pulling away. But I’m not pulling away anymore. I’m jumping.” Yes, she was. Breath held, eyes closed, she was jumping. “Because that’s what love is, a leap into the void with the hope that someone is there to catch you.”
*
Ozzie couldn’t believe his ears. His friends, his colleagues, his…family had risked everything by telling Samantha the truth. And Samantha? She was willing to go against everything she stood for, against her very nature, to keep that truth a secret.
It was too much. They were all too much.
He was seconds away from bawling his motherfucking eyes out. And since the last thing he wanted to do in this moment, the best moment of his entire sorry life, was prove what a vulnerable wreck he really was, he distracted himself by tenderly framing Samantha’s pretty face.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he told her, his voice a gravelly parody of itself.
“O-okay.” She blinked up at him.
As he leaned close, he noticed with relief that all her bruises had faded. That was the last rational thought he had, because the minute their lips touched and her wide eyes fluttered shut, he was drunk on the taste of her. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever known. He could put a name to the flavor of her candied mouth now. It was love. She was what love tasted like.
She loves me! She loves me! She loves me!
He wanted to howl it at the moon. Wanted to take her upstairs and make love to her until they were both sweaty and spent. But what he did instead was pull back and give her the truth that had been in his heart for so long. She thought love was a leap into the void? “I’ll catch you,” he whispered.
She gasped and searched his face. And then he watched as tears filled the indomitable Samantha Tate’s eyes.
What a woman, he thought. My woman. And never had two words sounded so sweet.
“I’m so fucking sorry I had to lie to you,” he swore. “I wanted to tell you the truth a million times, but—”
She shoved a finger over his mouth. A finger he couldn’t help but kiss. “Don’t.” She shook her head. “Don’t apologize for that. There were so many people depending on you to keep quiet. It’s such a burden and—”
“But you probably feel like you don’t really know me,” he insisted.