Page 22 of Secret Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #5)
The sand beneath their feet was still warm from the day's heat as Kenji guided Cassidy to a secluded stretch of beach, far enough from the resort's ambient lighting to offer the illusion of privacy.
The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of coral and gold that reflected off the gentle waves.
Under any other circumstances, this would have been paradise—the kind of romantic setting that belonged in travel brochures or honeymoon advertisements.
Instead, it felt like borrowed time before the storm.
Cassidy kicked off her heels, letting them dangle from her fingers as they walked.
The ocean breeze caught her blonde hair, lifting it away from her face, and for the first time since he'd met her, Kenji saw her shoulders truly relax.
Color was returning to her pale cheeks, and the tight lines around her eyes had begun to soften.
She's beautiful, he realized with a jolt that had nothing to do with tactical assessment and everything to do with the way his pulse quickened when she turned to smile at him.
"Thank you," she said simply, breathing deeply of the salt-tinged air. "I didn't realize how suffocating it felt up there until now."
Kenji nodded, though his attention was divided between her obvious relief and the growing awareness that his growing feelings for this woman threatened to cross every professional boundary he'd ever maintained.
The scent of plumeria from the nearby gardens mixed with the ocean's brine, creating an intoxicating cocktail that seemed designed to lower defenses and encourage confessions.
They found a piece of driftwood large enough to serve as a bench, positioned where the retreating tide had left the sand packed and smooth.
Cassidy settled beside him, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, could catch the faint lavender scent of her shampoo beneath the tropical air.
Kenji's phone buzzed softly in his pocket. He glanced at the screen discreetly:
Payment received. Account settled. —V
This time, the sweet flood of relief hit so suddenly he felt lightheaded.
His Savior giving him another chance .
And he was going to take it.
No more gambling. No more lies.
No more risking everything for the temporary high of cards and chips and outrageous bets. When this mission ended, he'd confess everything to his team, get help, rebuild the trust he'd damaged with his deception.
The wind gusted harder, wrapping him in the clean scent of salt spray. Maybe he could start now.
"When you approached me after that tournament loss," Kenji began, the words coming harder than he'd expected now that he was truly free to change, "you were right about me."
"Kenji—"
"I mean it. The gambling... it's not just recreation for me. It's—" He struggled to find words that would explain the compulsion without revealing the full scope of his addiction.
He wanted to offer some truth, be accountable. But without scaring her.
How could he describe the rush of adrenaline that felt better than any drug, the way he'd been willing to risk everything—including his team's trust—for one more hand?
"Stop." Cassidy placed her hand on his arm, the contact sending warmth up his sleeve.
"I shouldn't have said anything that day.
It was presumptuous and none of my business.
And clearly, you don't have a serious problem.
Look at your life. Your team trusts you completely.
You're helping save mine. Whatever relationship you have with gambling, you're obviously in control of it. "
The irony thumped him hard. She saw him as competent, trustworthy, worthy of respect—everything he desperately wished he could be.
But he didn't correct her. Couldn't bear to watch the respect in her eyes dim when she learned the truth about his addiction, about the lies he'd told his team, about how close he'd come to destroying everything that mattered.
"Your turn," he said instead, deflecting with the practiced ease of someone who'd spent months hiding his shame.
Cassidy's laugh held no humor. "My turn for what?"
"To tell me something you think disqualifies you from being the person I see."
She was quiet for so long that he thought she might not answer.
The waves lapped rhythmically against the shore, each one carrying away a little more of the day's warmth.
Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the faint sound of steel drums from the resort's evening entertainment, a cheerful counterpoint to the weight of their conversation.
"I don't have my life as together as everyone thinks," she finally said, her voice barely audible over the ocean's whisper. "I'm really bad at relationships. Terrible, actually."
Kenji felt his eyebrows rise. This from a woman who'd built an international charitable foundation, who commanded respect at poker tables across the globe, who was holding herself together under pressure that would break most people.
"I was engaged once," she continued, her fingers tracing patterns in the sand at their feet. "Three years ago. David. He was a good man—successful, stable, everything I thought I should want. But after eighteen months, he broke it off."
The pain in her voice made something clench in Kenji's chest. "What happened?"
"He said I'd never be relationship material.
Too calculating, too closed off. That I analyzed everything instead of feeling it.
" She looked up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
"He wasn't wrong. I treat emotions like poker hands—calculate the odds, assess the risks, make the logical play.
Who wants to be with someone who approaches love like a math problem? "
The words hit Kenji like a slap. Before he could stop himself, he was turning toward her, his voice fierce with denial. "That's not who you are at all. Are you kidding me?"
Cassidy blinked in surprise at his vehemence.
"Look at what you do," he continued, gesturing toward the resort and everything it represented.
"Haven House. Children in safe houses across twelve countries.
You've built that with your poker winnings, dedicated your life to saving kids who'll never be able to thank you properly.
And today—you're risking everything to protect them, even when it would be easier to just give Vega what he wants. "
"That's different?—"
"No, it's not. If anything, you care too much. You feel everything." The certainty in his voice surprised him. "That ex- fiancé of yours was an idiot who couldn't handle being with a woman stronger than he was."
The tears that had been threatening finally spilled over, tracking silver paths down her cheeks in the sunset light. But she was smiling too, a tremulous expression that made his heart skip beats.
"You really see me that way?" she whispered.
"I see a woman who?—"
Movement in his peripheral vision cut off whatever he'd been about to say.
Training kicked in automatically as he spotted two figures positioned at strategic points along the beach.
Vega's security, maintaining their surveillance net even here, even during what should have been a private moment between two people finding each other.
Nothing is private. Nothing is safe.
"We're being watched," he murmured, shifting closer to her on the driftwood. His hand found hers, ostensibly casual but really because he needed the contact, needed to anchor himself to something real in a world that had become increasingly surreal.
Cassidy's breath caught as she spotted the watchers. "They followed us."
"Always." Kenji studied her face in the fading light—the strength in her jaw, the intelligence in her eyes, the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide. This moment, this connection they'd found, was about to be stolen from them like everything else. "I'm sorry."
She started to ask what he was apologizing for, but then he was cupping her face with his free hand. Her skin was impossibly soft, warm from the day's heat and flushed with emotion.
"For the surveillance," he said softly. "For the timing. For this."
And then he kissed her.
It was gentle, reverent—a confession more than a claim.
Her lips were soft beneath his, tasting faintly of salt from her tears and something sweet that was purely her.
The kiss lasted only a heartbeat, chaste enough for any observer to interpret as a simple romantic gesture between two people on a beautiful beach.
But for Kenji, it changed everything.
When they broke apart, both breathing slightly unsteadily, the world had shifted on its axis. The feelings he'd been fighting, the attraction he'd tried to categorize as professional protectiveness, crystallized into something undeniable.
He was falling in love with Cassidy Reynolds.
In the middle of the most dangerous operation of his career, with watchers tracking their every move and death waiting if he made a single wrong choice, he was losing his heart to a woman who deserved far better than a broken man with a gambling addiction.
"We should head back," he said, though every instinct screamed to stay here, to hold onto this moment before reality crashed back down.
Cassidy nodded, her fingers still intertwined with his. He couldn’t help wondering why. Maybe she was just staying in character.
Or maybe it meant something more.
They stood together, brushing sand from their clothes, and began the walk back toward the resort's glowing lights. But something fundamental had changed between them.
The watchers followed at a discrete distance, shadows against the deepening twilight, a reminder that even paradise could be a prison when the wrong people held the keys.
As they approached the resort's manicured grounds, Cassidy squeezed his hand once before letting go. "Thank you," she said quietly. "For what you said. For seeing me that way."
"It's the truth," he replied, meaning every word.
What he didn't say was that her perception of him was the lie—that he was exactly the kind of calculating, closed-off person she feared herself to be. The kind of man who would risk everything she cared about for the temporary high of cards and chips and the illusion of control.
But for tonight, in the space between sunset and darkness, he could pretend to be worthy of the way she looked at him. Tomorrow would bring new dangers, new deceptions, new chances for his weakness to destroy them all.
Tonight, he could carry the memory of her trust like a talisman against the storm ahead.