Page 37 of Code Name: Atticus

So I had no shame—no regret—about going private and joining a firm where I made more money in a year than I had in five when I was active duty.

I also felt zero remorse for retiring as a major. Yeah, I probably could’ve ranked up a couple more times at least, but that was never my goal.

My goal had always been simple—stay alive and keep things uncomplicated. The same philosophy I’d applied to my relationships. Keep it light, keep it fun, keep it temporary. No one got hurt that way. But Brenna? She was different. She mattered.

After Kodiak sent a group message,saying Emma would arrive with just enough time for him to meet her at the airport and go straight to the party, along with assuring us their cover story was solid and they’d check in when it was over, I went looking for Brenna.

I’d lasted a whole fifty-five minutes before I was no longer able to stand being separated from her.

What if, instead of catching up on emails, she called the guy she’d been talking to last night again?

After what had happened between us this morning? How close we’d come to crossing a line we couldn’t uncross? No way in hell could I stand for her being a cheater. By the time I found her curled up on the ridiculously uncomfortable-looking sofa, my fists were clenched and heat had spread up my neck.

“What’s wrong?” Her brow furrowed when she looked up at me.

“I thought you had emails to catch up on.”

This time, her eyes flared. “I did. And since it didn’t take me as long as I thought it would, I decided to read a book.”

“No phone calls to make?” I sneered.

She closed her tablet, dropped it on the cushion beside her, and glared back at me. “What’s this about?”

“You. And the guy. And cheating.”

I watched as she mouthed the same words I’d just said.

“I can’t believe you’d do that, Brenna.”

Her head cocked. “Where is this coming from?”

“I started thinking about how close we came to…”

“To what?”

My brow furrowed. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“But you can’t say it? How close we came to fucking?”

I scowled. “Don’t be crude.”

She snickered. “Well, it sure as hell wouldn’t have been making love, now, would it?”

“Quit trying to change the subject.”

Her mouth gaped. “From what, you accusing me of being a cheater? Sorry, but this isn’t a conversation we’re going to have.”

She uncurled her legs that had been under her and stood, and I followed when she went into the kitchen. “Who were you talking to last night?”

“No one.”

“If he’s ‘no one,’ then why won’t you tell me who he is?”

“Because he doesn’t exist, Atticus. When I said ‘no one,’ that’s what I meant. I was acting like I was talking to someone.”

I leaned against the counter. “I don’t understand.”

“Youhurtme, and when you came looking for me like nothing had happened, I escaped.”