Page 19 of Covert Temptation (SEAL Team Blackout Charlie #4)

D ante couldn’t face the sympathy etched on Kennedy’s beautiful face. It hammered home the feelings that already tore at him.

He wasn’t an integral part of his own fucking SEAL team. At least not in the way he wanted to be.

When Blackout recruited him, he thought it was the highest honor, that he’d be at the top of the food chain.

Only to find he was buried under data and intel. They called him a specialist, but the way he saw it, his specialty made him disposable.

Needing a break, he walked straight to the bedroom and dropped to the edge of the bed, staring at the blank wall while he struggled with too many thoughts.

Kennedy’s quick, light footsteps made him even edgier. She’d be waiting for an explanation, but he couldn’t find the words—not with his thoughts twisted and gnarled like roots in the dark.

He felt her stare fixed on him from the doorway.

“Dante, talk to me. What just happened?”

He shook his head. “My team’s on an op. I’m here.”

Too late, he realized how that sounded. He caught her eye and attempted to backtrack. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

She compressed her lips and folded her arms in a protective pose. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No.”

“This has happened before?”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m often behind a screen instead of in the field.”

“But you don’t want to be.”

He filled his lungs to bursting with air and let it out in a rush, the only response to her observation.

She took a step into the room. “What do you need?”

“To clear my head.”

“And how do you do that?”

“At the base, I hit the gym or go for a run.”

“Then go for a run.”

He met her stare.

“You have running shoes in your bag, I assume?”

He nodded. Running had been his outlet since he could remember. He couldn’t outrun foster care, but he could find his own rhythm in the world.

Except he didn’t like leaving Kennedy. She’d given her word she wouldn’t leave, and he believed her. But he was the only thing between her and any danger that might come.

She moved to his duffel bag and dropped to her knees to unzip it. Without asking permission to root through his belongings, she rummaged in the bottom of the bag until she located his shoes. Crossing the room to him, she held them out.

“Kennedy…”

“You left to get pizza. I was fine then.”

He searched her face. Her eyes were wide and expressive, filled with understanding. This woman knew what it felt like to need escape. And her giving him this—a way to calm down and clear his head—was probably the best gift he’d ever received in his life.

She thrust the shoes into his hand. “Go for your run, Dante. I’ll be here.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

He gripped her waist, pulling her a step closer so he could stamp a kiss on her surprised lips. “I won’t go far. I’ll stick to the main road, and then I can see anyone approaching the safe house. Not that many pass in this remote stretch of the valley.”

She rested her palm on his chest, her face tilted to his. Her lips were too tempting not to take a second time. When he drew away, she wrapped her arms around herself again.

“I know how it feels to be trapped. Left behind.”

Her words hit harder than he expected, drawing a line connecting their pain. His chest tightened. He wasn’t trapped—not exactly, not the way she meant it—but the weight of it all pressed in just the same. Defeat curled in his gut, heavy and familiar.

The words to express this wouldn’t come to him, so he just reached out and cupped her face.

She stood frozen for a moment, then after a heartbeat, she walked out of the bedroom.

He quickly slipped on a hoodie and his running shoes. As he tied the laces, another thought came to him. He had to make sure she wasn’t afraid while he was gone.

When he walked out, he found Kennedy in the kitchen, filling the coffeemaker as if she needed something to do with her hands.

Closing the gap between them, he took her in his arms, cradling her head against his chest. “I’ll be back long before dark. Here’s my phone. You can always make an emergency call without my passcode.”

She took the phone from him with a smile that was a little too bright, a little too brittle.

He started to say something, but she placed a finger over his lips. “Shh.”

His lips quirked under her finger.

“You look so hot in that gray shirt and your running shoes.”

“Now I know you’re definitely sexualizing me. I don’t know how I feel about that.”

She arched a shapely brow at him. “You love it and you know it. Now go for your run, SEAL.” She stepped out of his arms, clasping the phone to her chest.

He leveled her in a look. “Do not take off, Runway Rebel. I will hunt you down and find you.”

She shot out a hand, little finger up. “Pinky promise.”

Christ, she was beautiful and smart and funny, in the best of ways at the best of times.

And she was giving him this time, knowing he needed it for his mental health, when her own had been suffering for weeks.

As soon as he took care of himself, he would be better able to take care of her. The minute he walked back through that door, he would do everything in his power to see that she was happy and cared for.

He hooked his pinky around hers. When he tugged her toward him, she lifted her face for his kiss.

The caress was brief but sweet, filled with meaning he couldn’t put words to.

By the time he reached the main road, Dante hit his stride. It was narrow, a gray strip leading to the icy horizon. Not a sound of a car echoed in his ears, only the whisper of the wind and the scurrying of small animals at the snowy roadside.

A thousand things hit his mind at once. Would he ever go back to SEAL Team 3, where he had more purpose in the field of battle? He loved those brothers. They’d dug in deep, fought long and hard. They’d lost some skirmishes and won more.

They’d lost a few good men too, and when he signed his Blackout papers, they believed he was dead as well.

Now Charlie was out on a mission, and without Dante covering their six with intel on hand, they were flying blind.

Goddammit.

Then he thought about his real family, left behind long ago. After the King children were made wards of the state, all of his siblings were adopted.

Dante was the odd man out.

They were all grown up now. Sometimes he checked in on them, not unlike the way Kennedy checked on her parents. He only hoped they were happy.

Finally, Kennedy occupied a lot of space in his mind.

Fuck, the taste of her lingered in his memory. The warmth of her eyes when she told him she understood what he needed stripped the last remnant of suspicion he had about her.

A childhood spent in foster care left him well aware of who was fake and who wasn’t.

All this time, he was convinced Kennedy leaked that intel. Everything he knew about her was in a file, compiled by Blackout’s interrogations or the FBI. But Dante got to know her. Once he knew more, new light was shed on the facts he read in her file.

He saw the real her. And she wasn’t pretending. She was pure. Unapologetic. Kennedy.

The sound of her laugh reverberated in his soul. When he got back, he would make her laugh and moan and laugh some more. He would turn on the hockey game and they’d eat junk food until they burst if that was what she wanted.

Another revelation hit as his foot came down on the pavement—for a man who didn’t do feelings, Dante seemed to have a hell of a lot of them now.

His muscles hummed with exertion, and the rhythm snaked into his soul.

Even if he wasn’t needed on the op, he was doing important work here. With Kennedy’s help, he could prove what they’d only suspected until now—that Daniel Sheen was alive.

This was massive—especially with suspicions that he wasn’t just connected to Cipher, but might actually be the terrorist himself.

Cipher had slipped through all the cracks thus far, and now it would take all of their combined skills to finish this.

When they finally got the terrorist in their sights, what Dante wanted more than anything was to be on the front lines with his team.

He made a U-turn and headed back to the house, faster now, fueled by the urge to return to his work, to leave no stone unturned.

And to see Kennedy.

The weak sun was slipping low in the sky, setting earlier and earlier this time of year. It hovered just above the safe house, casting a long shadow into the front yard.

By the time he reached the door, his muscles were warm and perspiration dampened his forehead. He could have gone on for miles, but he was away from Kennedy long enough.

When he rapped on the door for her to let him in like before, he didn’t get any answer. He knocked again, louder. Maybe she fell asleep?

But then the breeze brought a hint of wood smoke to his nose. Nostrils flaring like he was catching the scent of danger, he hurried around the back of the house.

There she was, sitting on an old wooden lawn chair in front of the fire ring he’d created. Orange flames danced and flickered.

His chest flexed as his gaze settled over her. She was huddled in the depths of her coat, blonde hair stirring in the light wind. When she turned her head slightly, he saw she was wearing a fuzzy headband over her ears, the gold of some designer logo glinting in the low light.

Seeing she had dragged a chair over for him too, he crossed the yard to it and sat.

A genuine smile flashed across her pretty face and replaced the shadows of worry in her eyes. “Oh, honey, you’re home!”

To his surprise, she reached down and lifted a glass bottle.

He sat forward. “Where did you get that?”

“Turns out the kitchen is more well-stocked than we realized. I did a little digging in the cupboards and pantry to find this.”

“Is that beer ?”

“Yup.” She held it out to him, and he took it with a grin.

Her mouth dropped open in mock surprise. “Is that a smile I see? If I’d known all it took was some beer to make you happy, I would have done this weeks ago.”