Page 99 of Denied Access

But now, his sleeping beauty was stirring.

“It’s so good to be with you,” Greta said, stifling a yawn.

Rapp smiled. “Let’s see if you still think that once we face your grandfather. How’d he take it when you ditched his security detail?”

Greta gave a faint smile. “About how you’d expect. He was upset that I didn’t just call him with my concerns and angry with himself that he might have inadvertently put me in danger. He said that he would terminate their contract and hire a new security firm. I told him not to bother because you were coming for me. Problem solved.”

At that, she reached over, slid her fingers through his, and squeezed.

Rapp squeezed back, but he didn’t agree.

If Greta’s guards had been about to do her harm, this problem was far from solved. Rapp added the topic to the long and growing list of things he intended to address with the Ohlmeyer family’s patriarch once they were face-to-face.

“How are things with you and Stan?” Greta said.

“I don’t think he’s very happy.”

Greta chuckled. “Even I know Uncle Stan better than that. If he’s unhappy, you’d know.”

“True, but he’s in good company. No one in our lives is happy right now.”

“I am.” Greta kissed the back of his hand. “Are you?”

He was.

Ridiculously happy.

He’d been given a second chance. Though he’d only been twenty-one when he’d lost Mary, they’d been together since their teens. He wouldn’t have been able to articulate it at that time, but when Mary died, he’d believed that the part of him that could be happy had died too. Sure, there’d been other girls after her, but no one had come close to filling the void left by her absence.

No one until Greta.

“Happier than I’ve ever been,” Rapp said.

He’d spoken without thinking and now the heaviness of his words settled on his shoulders. He’d been truthful, but his response felt unfaithful to Mary. As if her memory were slowly drifting away as surely as the smell of her had faded from the sweatshirt she’d left in his car.

Was he really ready to finally let go of his first love?

“Hey,” Greta said, her words soft, “it’s okay if—”

“No,” Rapp said, turning to face her, “it’s not. I love you. You are the most important thing in my life. You. Not Mary’s ghost and sure as hell not my job. You are what matters.”

He felt the conviction in his words. Did he love his job? Yes. Did he feel like he’d been created to do it? Absolutely. And would he miss dealing out vengeance to the shitbags who had killed and maimed innocents in the name of radical Islam? Again, yes. But would he give that up if that’s what it took to keep Greta?

Yes.

Most people were lucky to find true love once. Though he was onlyin his twenties, Rapp had discovered it twice. He hadn’t had a choice with Mary. A coward had taken her from him. He wouldn’t allow anything to take Greta from him.

Not even his career.

Greta’s blue eyes filled with tears. She leaned over to kiss him, but a shrill sound brought her up short.

Her phone.

“Scheisse,” Greta said, fumbling with the handset. “I gave this number to my grandfather. He’s probably calling to make sure you arrived. Should I answer?”

Rapp nodded.

Greta smiled at him as she lifted the handset to her ear. “Grüsse, Opa.”