Page 16

CHAPTER 15

Little Victories Bucket List No. 22: Sleep under the stars

Her lips still tingled.

She sat perfectly still, afraid that if she moved, the moment would somehow shatter, fall apart like spun sugar touched too roughly. Her heart was a wild thing in her chest, fluttering and fierce, and she couldn’t catch her breath—not entirely.

He had kissed her.

She’d let him.

No—she had kissed him back.

The fire crackled beside them, filling the silence with its gentle hissing and pops. It was warm, but she wasn’t sure if the heat on her face came from the flames or from the fact that his mouth had just been on hers, that his breath had mixed with hers, that his hand had cradled her face like she was something precious, something worthy .

It was her first kiss. Ever. And nothing in her life had prepared her for what that would feel like.

Not the books. Not the half-formed dreams she’d tucked away, convinced love wasn’t meant for people like her. She’d thought she was too damaged, too strange, too far behind for anything like this.

But he hadn’t looked at her like that. He hadn’t kissed her like that.

He’d kissed her like she mattered.

She blinked hard, staring down at her hands, suddenly self-conscious. Did he know? Could he tell? That she had no idea what she was doing? That the moment had left her shaken, unraveled in ways she hadn’t known she could be?

He shifted in front of her, just slightly, and she could feel him watching her. Waiting.

She didn’t look at him—not yet. Her voice came out softer than she intended. “That was . . . unexpected.”

A beat passed. Then another.

And then he said, just as quietly, “Was it okay?”

She nodded, her throat tight. Then forced herself to speak. “It was more than okay.” She hesitated. “It was . . . the first.”

Silence stretched between them again, but it was different now—full of weight and wonder.

His hands dropped from her face but reached for hers, careful and slow, his fingers brushing the back of her knuckles like he was afraid she might disappear. “Then I’m honored,” he said, voice rough. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Tears burned her eyes, and she didn’t even know why. Maybe it was because he hadn’t laughed. Hadn’t looked at her with pity. Maybe it was because, for the first time, she didn’t feel broken. Just . . . brave. Just beginning.

She finally looked up at him, her heart in her throat. “I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered.

He smiled then, the kind that made her stomach flip. “That’s okay,” he said. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Cammie liked that. She’d never had a ‘together’ with anyone before. She’d always been alone. In everything. Her days. Her nights. Her studies. The responsibilities her father expected of her involved cleaning, cooking, and maintaining the house, which was a lot of work for one person . . . alone.

But the times she was alone were preferable to the times when her father took notice of her. Or, God forbid, one of her father’s men. As she matured, she came to realize that if she allowed herself to be alone with one of the men, they wouldn’t hesitate. Cammie figured her father wouldn't have cared one bit. That became blatantly obvious the night she’d been pulled from her bed and sold to sex traffickers. She’d always managed to steer clear of the men, except for that night.

The times when her father noticed her came with pain and heartache. He never used his fists. His form of abuse was the open palm and words. Both left a sting that stayed long after he’d struck. She tried to steer clear of him as well and look where that got her.

But now, she was alone with Wade, a man she longed for, a thrill of excitement coursing through her. And he was talking about figuring things out together, a hopeful smile playing on his lips.

And somehow, she believed him.

Not knowing what else to say, she finally replied with a simple, “Okay.”

He smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes, crinkling the corners and adding to his already warm expression. It struck her then. She’d only seen that warm expression when he looked at her. The realization caused her insides to turn into a pile of mush.

He rose to his full height, towering over her, causing her to crane her neck and strain to look up into his eyes. He reached a hand out to her, the smile still on his lips. “I remember hearing something about sleeping under the stars on that bucket list of yours.”

She took his hand, curiosity driving her. “What do you mean?”

He pulled her up, but didn’t drop her hand once she was upright. Instead, he pulled her over to the back of his truck. He lowered the tailgate to reveal the back was full of bedding.

“You up for it?” he asked, practically challenging her.

Feeling almost giddy, she accepted enthusiastically. “You betcha.”

He helped her up, and they both got comfortable. She hadn’t known peace could feel like this.

The bed of his truck was lined with thick quilts and an old sleeping bag that smelled faintly of pine and him. The tailgate was down, offering an unbroken view of the hills stretching into the distance, silhouetted under a canopy of stars. The crickets had taken up their evening chorus, soft and rhythmic, like nature’s lullaby. And beside her—so close their shoulders brushed—was him.

She hadn’t expected to stay the night. But when he’d suggested it, half a smile tugging at his lips, a twinkle in his eyes, she hadn’t been able to say no. It wasn’t just the stars or the quiet—it was him. The way he looked at her like she wasn’t made of jagged edges. Like she belonged here, in his world.

She settled deeper into the quilt, pulling it around her shoulders. He was already lying back, one arm folded behind his head, the other resting between them, not touching, but close enough to feel the warmth. His eyes were on the sky, but she could see the softness in his profile, the way his expression relaxed in the dark.

“You do this a lot?” she asked, her voice hushed, like anything louder might disturb the magic of the night.

He turned his head, smiled. “Used to. Back when I thought stars had answers.”

She smiled too, small and quiet. “Do they?”

His gaze found hers, and the stars reflected in his eyes. “Not really. But they make the questions feel smaller.”

She let the silence fall again, resting on them like a blanket. Her heart beat steadily in her chest—not the wild, anxious kind she’d come to expect from being near someone. This was something else. A calm sort of awareness. A warm hum beneath her skin.

“Thank you,” she said, barely louder than a whisper.

“For what?”

“For this. For letting me be here. Like this.”

“I should be thanking you,” he replied.

“What? Why?”

He took a deep breath then let it out slowly. “You’ve taught me a lot in the short amount of time we’ve known each other.”

“How so?”

“Remember I mentioned losing a teammate?”

“Yeah.”

“He was my best friend. Liam. We both worked for Condor’s Overwatch and were on a mission. It was supposed to be a cake walk. Liam’s fiancée, Sutton, was a Pulitzer Prize winning photographer. She often went into the most unstable places. And we were her protection. We got lazy. That’s no excuse but it’s the truth. We knew there were factions in Colombia that were violent. But we let our guard down. Sutton was there to document a gathering of Colombian woman and girls who’s only wish was to be empowered. For two days, we listened as they shared ideas and made plans.”

“What happened,” she asked after he went quiet.

“There was a woman. I was attracted to her. She offered to meet me away from the village that night. I thought Sutton was safe with Liam, so I went into the jungle to meet her. It was stupid. I was old enough to not be led around by my dick. I can’t explain why I did it. I waited in the trees like a foolish teenager. She never showed, but Liam did.”

She gasped. “Why?”

“I didn’t know it at the time, but he’d grown unhappy in his relationship. She wanted things he wasn’t ready for. They were getting older, and she wanted to stop traveling so much. Maybe start a family.”

“Makes sense. I can’t imagine living out of a suitcase all the time.”

“I think Liam was close to ending things with her, but I thought his sense of decency would prevent him from being unfaithful. Never in my wildest dreams did I envision a scenario where the same woman would seduce both of us.”

“No,” she gasped. “She lured you both? How evil.”

He chuckled, but it wasn’t a joy filled sound. “You have no idea.”

“What happened?”

“Valeria was working for a faction that was slowly gaining territory in the area. She lured us away so her men could attack.”

“Oh, God,” she whispered, her hand finding his between them. Intertwining his fingers with hers, he held on tightly, as if her presence was an anchor, grounding him in the present moment and preventing him from being swept away by the overwhelming tide of his memories.

“We’d fucked up. We had left the person we were supposed to protect unattended when the surprise attack on the village occurred. We raced back, but there wasn’t much we could do. We were vastly outnumbered. Our priority was to find Sutton and get the hell out of there. Liam searched while I went to get our vehicle. When he found her, she was hidden but taking pictures. Liam had to forcibly drag her away.

“They were spotted as they made a run for the Humvee. I tried to lay down cover fire and thought they were going to make it. But just as Liam jumped into the back seat after Sutton, he was shot. It was a fatal hit.”

“Oh, no,” she cried, squeezing his fingers. “I’m so sorry, Wade.”

“I wish that was the end of the story,” he rasped, agony evident in his voice.

“What do you mean?”

He took a shaky breath and let it out slowly, as if he could banish the bad memories as easily as he expelled the air. “I’m not proud of my actions. I kind of lost it. I blamed Sutton, of all people, for his death. I thought if she had just stopped taking those damn pictures and ran when Liam had first found her . . .”

“You would have made it out and Liam would still be alive,” she finished for him. “But Wade. You can’t know that for sure.”

With a weary sigh, he ran a hand down his face. “I know. I told you I wasn’t proud of it. My accusations were unreasonable. Irrational. I can recognize it now as a stage of grief. For two years, I held a grudge against Sutton. I hated her. And worse, she knew how I felt.”

“I’m sure she understands,” she tried to reassure.

“She was injured. Spent two weeks in a coma. Being the asshole I was, I left her alone in the hospital. Buried my friend without her. Cut her from my life completely.”

“Oh, Wade,” she breathed, aching for him.

“Two years later I discovered she’d settled down in Michigan to open her own photography studio and started dating another Ranger friend of ours. That’s when the truth came out about the photos she’d said were lost from that evening. She’d hidden them away. Too afraid of repercussions to publish them. She decided to let me have the SD card the photos were on, hoping that studying them might reveal the faction’s identity.”

“Did you meet with her in person?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I pulled my head out of my ass. She’d been kidnapped when I’d arrived―” She gasped, and he held up a hand. “―a story for another time. I helped my buddy rescue her, then ate a little crow. She graciously accepted my apology.”

“But you haven’t forgiven yourself, have you?” She didn’t know how she knew that, but she could tell by the widening of his eyes that she’d hit the nail on the head.

“I’m working on it. Which is why I should be thanking you. You’ve made me see how much I’ve locked away. I didn’t really allow myself to grieve my best friend. I think I’m finally ready.”

“And I’ll be here to help you through it.”

He smiled, a tender expression softening his features, and leaned in, his lips brushing gently against her temple. “Thank you, sprite.”

With a gentle release of her hand, he swung his arm around her, gathering her close to his side. A wave of comforting warmth washed over her as she reveled in the feeling of safety. She turned into his hold and placed her hand on his chest, her head nestled in his shoulder.

She played with the material of this T-shirt as she thought about all he’d told her. They’d both let a lot off their chests tonight. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, but she pushed it away, unwilling to relinquish the pleasant comfort she felt with Wade just yet.

“Did you ever learn anything from the pictures?” she asked, referring to the photos from the night his friend died.

“Sutton managed to capture a perfect image of the leader. A guy who goes by El Sombra, the Shadow. And he’s just that―a shadow, a ghost. He manages to elude capture anytime we think we’re closing in on him.”

“That sucks,” she said, her eyes growing heavy.

“We’ll get him someday,” he assured.

“Good.”

She released a contented sigh and settled into his embrace, the scent of leather and woodsmoke lulling her to sleep. As she drifted off, she felt something settle in her. Something sure.

She wasn’t falling in love.

She was already halfway there.