Page 14 of Steinbeck (The Minnesota Kingstons #5)

FIVE

“Is she your girlfriend or not?”

Steinbeck didn’t have an answer for Jack. Frankly, he didn’t even have an answer for himself and his out-of-body behavior out on the lawn. He could have kept kissing her until... well, until he forgot himself, his mission, why she drove him crazy.

“Listen, I didn’t exactly lie, but the truth felt too complicated.”

“Because you knew we’d all freak out!” This from Conrad, who sat on one of the single beds, shaking his head.

They had bunkered up in one of the upstairs bedrooms of the Norbert after the showdown at the campfire.

“She’s dangerous and trouble, and what in the world are you doing with her, Stein?”

He couldn’t argue the first two. And with the taste of her kiss still inside him, he went right to, “Reasons, Austen. You don’t have to rubber-stamp my every move.”

Which probably hadn’t been the right thing to say, because Austen’s mouth had opened and she’d then turned to Emberly, her voice tight. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

To which Emberly had nodded. “You too.” She’d twisted out of his hand despite his grip and said, “I’m sorry, but I think this game is over.”

And then she’d stalked toward the house.

He’d nearly run after her—should have—but he’d been pinned into place by the expressions of his family. They’d stared at him, his mother stricken, his father frowning, Jack with his hands in his pockets, shaking his head, and Penny and Conrad sitting up, mouths agape.

“It’s complicated,” he’d said and headed toward the house. He’d gone to Emberly’s room on the second floor at the end of the hall. Knocked.

And knocked.

And knocked.

Until finally Jack and Conrad had followed him and dragged him down to another guest room.

Now Jack stood at the window, arms folded, that big-brother look of disapproval on his face. “You should have trusted us. I mean, I knew who she was, but... c’mon, bro. This is me. And Con. We know you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t help but get involved,” Conrad said. “Of course you’re going to dive into something completely crazy—and that’s what this is, right? Something crazy?”

Steinbeck hung his hands behind his neck, folding them there, which felt like a better alternative than using them to strangle his sister.

Thanks, Austen.

At least now he knew Declan’s whereabouts, so that was something. Austen told him that she’d caught a flight back to Minnesota with her new beau.

“I can’t get into it, but yes. Emberly?—”

“Phoenix?”

“Emberly is her real name. Phoenix is her?—”

“Spy name?” Conrad raised an eyebrow.

“Cover name. And you might consider cutting her some slack. She was trying to protect you all.”

“Please,” Jack said. “She was trying to protect herself. And maybe you. But from what? It’s not like we’re not used to you living a clandestine life.

You spent years not telling us where you were going, where you’d been.

You didn’t have to lie.” Jack leaned forward, quirked a brow.

“I want to know what went down in Portugal.”

Stein sank down onto the edge of one of the twin beds. “What do you mean?”

Jack just stared at him. “A week ago you could barely admit that you might be more than friends. Now she’s your girlfriend ?”

“I think we made it clear that was a cover story.”

“No. You don’t lie that well.” Jack glanced at Conrad as if for confirmation, and the traitor nodded.

“You are a terrible liar,” Conrad said. “Which is why I totally bought the girlfriend act.”

“Because it’s not an act,” Jack said quietly. “Not to our boy Stein.”

Stein stared at him. “Jack?—”

“Like I said before you took off for Portugal, you care about this woman. Although I don’t know why, or how she fits into your life.”

“She doesn’t. I told you. I met her on an op a few years ago, the one that ended my career. I blamed her for a long time for what went south, but we ran into each other again in Barcelona and then on Mariposa and I got her side of the story.”

“And that changed things?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. And then we got trapped on Declan’s boat together, and she helped me rescue Austen and Dec from the Cuban police and... well, maybe I misjudged her.”

Silence as his brothers considered him. As he considered his own words. “Then I found her in Portugal, captive, on her way to Russia and... I don’t know. She seemed grateful.”

Jack’s eyebrow went up.

Conrad’s mouth lifted on one side. “Grateful?”

He nodded. “Grateful.”

“As in full-kiss-on-the-mouth, Steinbeck-I-love-you grateful?”

“Less PG-13, but something like that.”

“And there went Steinbeck, stepping off the sidelines into whatever game she was playing,” Jack said.

“It’s not a game. There is a real threat to our national security, and she’s a part of neutralizing it.”

“And now so are you.”

Steinbeck shoved his hands into his pockets. “So I am. So shoot me.”

Jack nodded, sighed.

Conrad leaned back, bracing his hands on the bed. “And what part of that brought you guys back to the King’s Inn for a family dinner?”

“The part that included him thinking that maybe there’s a happily ever after waiting at the end of this gig.” Jack’s blue eyes turned hard on him.

“For the love, Jack, let’s not get carried?—”

“Stop. You’re always the levelheaded, sensible one in the crowd,” Jack said. “You don’t do anything without thinking it through, so... you think you have a future with this woman?”

The question hit him, a blow across his chest. “No. I—I don’t know.”

“That’s the first honest thing you’ve said,” Jack said quietly.

Stein narrowed his eyes, then leaned forward, his face in his hands. “This woman makes me crazy. The first time I met her, she derailed my entire life. And yet I’m like a moth to a flame. She’s funny and brave, and?—”

“She stands up to you.”

Stein looked at Conrad.

“Hey, I’m just saying I get it,” Con said. “Penny is exactly like that. Smart and maybe a little impulsive, and it drives me to my last nerve, and yet I can’t look away. Or stop myself from wanting to protect her. She makes me feel invincible.” He made a wry face. “Okay, that was a little much.”

“No. It’s perfectly stated,” Jack said. “Harper looks at me like I could find her in the dark with my hands tied behind my back. It makes me want to be everything I see in her eyes.” He lifted a shoulder. “Please do not tell her that.”

Conrad let out a huff, shook his head, gave him a wry smile.

Stein stared at them.

“Is that panic on your face?” Jack raised an eyebrow.

Steinbeck ran his hand across his mouth. “I just know that nothing had felt right for three years, and something just... clicked when I found her in Portugal. And maybe before that, in Cuba, when we were trying to survive.”

“Maybe we can figure out how to get past survival together?”

“I think maybe I’ve been in survival mode for the past three years. Survive my injury, get back on my feet. Find my way. And now I have a chance to do something... patriotic?—”

“With the woman who makes you feel?—”

“Necessary,” Conrad said.

Stein stilled.

“And, goal,” Conrad said, raising an eyebrow.

Aw. Stein looked away.

“Bro,” Jack said quietly. “You’ve never been not necessary.”

“I don’t need a hug.”

“But you do need truth. Running from one high-adrenaline mission to the next is not going to heal you from the loss of being a SEAL.”

“I’m fine.”

“We see you, Stein. You’ve always been the One Most Likely to Get It Done. And then you got blown up and sidelined, and you’ve put on a tough face, but... we get it.”

“Being a SEAL is just a job,” Stein said.

“Right. As if the warrior ethos wasn’t scrubbed into your DNA,” Jack said.

Stein lifted a shoulder.

“But you’re not on the teams anymore. So there has to be something more—otherwise God would not have brought you here.”

The words were a knife, and for a second, Stein couldn’t breathe. “You’re saying God derailed my life?”

“Not derailed. Redirected. I’m saying that nothing happens to us that doesn’t pass through the hands of the Lord. And he is good. And not to quote my little brother or anything, but eight months ago, you said that God has a plan for my life. And that even I can’t screw it up.”

“You remember that.”

“I do. And you should too.”

Steinbeck sighed. “Listen, I’m not worried about screwing it up. I’m worried that... I’ll end up chopping wood for family campfires for the rest of my life. No offense.”

Jack shook his head. “None taken. Mostly because chopping all that wood means I’m in better shape than you.”

Even Conrad smiled.

“Listen, little bro,” Jack said, “Dad always says a person’s steps are directed by the Lord. How, then, can anyone understand their own way?”

“That’s a proverb, Jack. Not Dad,” Conrad said.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Seriously?” He headed toward the door, dropping a hand on Stein’s shoulder as he stopped beside him.

“God did not make you to sit on the sidelines, Steinbeck. We all know that. And we have your back. Whatever it is you need to do to save the world, we’re in.

But don’t pursue this woman with the hope that she’s going to give you some sort of purpose. Only God can do that.”

He slapped his shoulder. “So be smart, and don’t let this girl run away with your heart.”

Jack left.

Stein lay on the bed, his hands behind his head. “When did he get all wise and knowing?”

“Feeling a little usurped?” Conrad got up, pulled off his shirt.

“What?”

Conrad threw the shirt into his open suitcase. “For years, all I got was you telling me how I should live my life.”

“Not true.”

“You were always so confident, like you knew exactly what step to take. Especially after you became a SEAL.” Conrad turned, hands on his hips.

“But I didn’t care because you were my big brother, and I knew you were watching my back.

So it’s your turn to listen.” He stood at the door to the bathroom.

“You don’t always have to save the day.”

He went in and shut the door.

Stein stared at the rotating ceiling fan. Yes, actually, he did.