Gage laughed. “You weren’t hurt though, right?”
“Just my pride.”
“I can see that.”
“Hey.” She tossed a piece of broccoli at him and laughed. “I’m learning.”
“You are. Dinner was wonderful.”
“Well, thanks for inviting me over and making me cook for you.”
“Oh sweetheart, I would never dream of making you do anything. We both know you wanted to.”
Her emerald eyes snared his and all seriousness laced her face. “True.” She hesitated, glancing at him, then the floor, then him again. She was going to tell him something, and though she was hesitating, he hoped—please God—that she’d go through with it.
She shrugged. “My mother cooked everything well, but crab cakes were her specialty.”
He nodded. “You’ve mentioned this. So tell me how you’re going about making them?”
“Not very well at all. You had me thinking, we made a whole meal with a few ingredients…and the crab cakes are the same. Not much goes in them. The whole process should be simple. I saw my mom do it a thousand times. But I still can’t get them right.”
He nodded. This was the closest to the real Chloe he’d seen yet, and he loved it. Speaking of love… “It sounds cliché, sweetheart, but your mother cooked with love. You cook with… vengeance.”
She laughed. “Shut up.”
He snickered and sighed. “Maybe try to relax. Stop fighting it. Open your heart to letting the dish be what it needs to be, then let it turn out the way it will.”
“You think it’s that simple?”
He smiled. “I know it’s that simple. That’s how it is with anything. You can’t force yourself…you can’t force anything to be something other than what it already is. You let it breathe. You accept it. You love it.” He touched her hand. “You do that with these crab cakes, they’ll be everything you remember them being.”
He let the unspoken words hang between them. They couldn’t force their relationship to be anything other than what it was, either. If only she would treat it with the openness he wanted her to use with the crab cakes.
Chloe looked at him. “Maybe,” she whispered. Then she stood and walked around to face him. She gently brushed her knee against his. “I had a good time tonight.” She ran a fingertip along his jaw. “Thank you.”
Just when he thought she’d kiss him…she turned and walked toward the door.
“Chloe, do you want to—”
“I should get going.” She opened the front door and glanced back at him. Gage stared as she walked out and quietly shut the door behind her.
They’d had a date. No sex, like he’d wanted. Even better, she’d opened up to him.
So why did he feel like he’d lost the very thing he’d come for? And why did dread lace his veins when he thought of how many more moments he could have with her, in and out of bed, if only she’d let him?
He glanced around the quiet studio. It was empty and cold without Chloe.
For having a night of everything he wanted, he was starting to feel like it was all slipping through his fingertips.
Chapter Eight
Gage paced in his living room and gripped the phone against his ear. He was in Beaufort, training recruits until the next mission came up. He wasn’t banned from going out in the field per se, but he had a commitment to finish the training of these recruits first. A commitment that now fell right in the middle of an unexpected mission.
“I can go in the field anytime,” he told his boss.
“I know, but everything’s been covered. You stay and train, and when you’re done, you’ll be on the next mission.”
Shit. Gage wanted to be out there now. He’d been up last night, listening to the incoming radio transmissions so that he could keep himself from obsessing about Chloe. That was when he’d heard about the group of teenagers missing on the west coast. He’d immediately called his boss, but instead of being sent out himself, he’d been told that the mission didn’t need him.
The feds had stepped in with their team, a team Gage was normally a part of. Only he wasn’t heading to the west coast. He was in North Carolina, training new recruits instead of rescuing people himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the other people sent out there instead of him. It was simply that he couldn’t live with himself if he discovered those teenagers died out there. He’d never be able to live with himself knowing that if he’d been there, maybe he could have made a difference.
His chest buzzed with the need to help. To run. To roam.
Yeah, some of this frustration came from wanting to be a part of this big mission. And some of it came from Chloe. She’d opened up even more to him, and then she’d walked away. Which made him happy and uneasy at the same time. The woman was tricky, but he thought she was warming up to the idea of finally exploring the romantic side of their relationship. Or she was setting him up to knock him on his ass when she walked away for good.
He mumbled a curse, unable to really think of that, because the possibility stung his chest. Maybe getting out and getting some clarity would be a good thing? Yeah, like going on a fucking mission. If only he could convince his boss.
“The people in training here are doing well and are pretty set,” Gage said. “I can leave early if you need.”
His boss was quick to answer. “No, stay there, get those NC recruits all trained.”
Gage bit his lip. “I can do more. Let me help.”
“You know as well as I do it’s only a matter of time until someone needs your help,” his boss said. “But the training you’ve done with these guys has shown me you could help a hell of a lot more people if you didn’t run off to do so many of the rescues yourself.”
Gage’s heart punched his chest. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You think I’m not the right man to rescue those people?”
“Calm down. You’re one of the best we have, which is why a lot of higher-ups, including myself, are anxious to put you in a permanent training position.”
Gage’s stomach sank. “What?”
“The North Carolina branch could use a man like you to oversee the training program.”
This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. He couldn’t root himself to Beaufort and never take a mission. He had to make an impact. How would he live with himself if he heard someone died while he’d stayed behind?
Hell no.
“I’m a field man. I don’t mind doing the training here and there, but I’m not going to only train.”
“There’s more than hitting the field,” his boss said. “You have the level head to deal with these types of situations and delegate the right teams to the right missions, which is essential to search and rescue.”
How had this conversation turned into trying to keep Gage at a glorified desk job? He wasn’t trying to diminish the work people like East did, and yes, his boss had a hard job, strategizing the best plan and team for certain jobs. Gage could do that…but at what cost? How would he handle hearing about people they lost on missions and never knowing if he would’ve been able to save them?
“I’m honored you’d think of me,” Gage said. “But that’s not what I am. That’s not who I am. It’s not how I’m built.”
“Sounds like you’ve made your decision. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
“Well, let me know what missions come up. I can be there—”
“I know. But you need to finish training the volunteers,” he said and hung up.
Gage gritted his teeth as he resisted the urge to throw the phone. He stared at his suitcase in the corner of the room—he’d never even unpacked.
Who the hell was he to think putting down roots would ever be a good idea?