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Forgiving Paris: A Novel(55)

Author:Karen Kingsbury

No one could hear what they were saying. The clinks of glasses and the sound of silverware and conversation around them were too loud. Jack only smiled. “It’s a long story.”

“I have time.” It was true. Their meal hadn’t even arrived yet.

“It isn’t pretty.” Jack’s eyes softened.

“Neither is mine.” This hardly felt like make-believe. Their fingers together made her feel safe. Her smile felt different now. More real. “Tell me.”

“Okay.” He released her hand and sat straighter. “I had one brother. Two years younger than me.” He paused. “Shane died when I was sixteen.”

Eliza felt a strange ache for the man across from her. “I’m sorry.”

“For a few years, my parents grieved in silence. They were there at my football and baseball games. They spent more time with me than before, but they were never the same.” He paused. “They were in the Middle East a few years later, visiting U.S. troops, when their vehicle hit a roadside bomb.” He looked at his water glass. “The Army told me they never knew what hit them.”

Eliza had no idea what to say. “They were… military?”

“Diplomats.” Jack’s smile was heavy now. “I was a senior in high school.”

The meal came and they made small talk again. But on the walk back to the Reef, Eliza stopped and turned to him. “I really am sorry. About your family.”

“Thanks.” A breeze made its way across the path and Jack brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. “I’ve been alone for a long time.”

Again, she wanted to kiss him, not to prove herself. But because she’d never felt like this. She kept her feelings to herself. “Is that why you became an undercover agent?”

“Sort of.” A couple was walking up behind them, and Jack kissed Eliza’s forehead. They started moving again, slower this time. “I was going to be a Navy SEAL. Oliver found me after I graduated from the Naval Academy. He was my father’s best friend, when the two were younger.”

The pieces of his story were coming together. “You joining the FBI, that was Oliver’s idea?”

Jack was quiet for a long moment. Like there were pieces of his story he didn’t want to share. At least not yet. “Someone at the Navy knew that Oliver and my dad were friends. Oliver got word that I might not survive SEAL training.”

“Why?” That didn’t seem possible. Eliza couldn’t imagine a soldier stronger than Jack.

“I pushed too hard. Didn’t care if I lived or not.” Jack shrugged. “Oliver believed that attitude would be better put to use with the FBI.”

Eliza kept walking. They had more in common than she’d thought, this FBI agent and her. As they passed the casino, Jack put his arm around her again. Once, when two guards were walking their way, he stopped and pulled her into his arms. Again he kissed her forehead. “I love you, Masey. It’s only been a few days, but I love being married to you.”

Masey. This was for the sake of the men. In case they were in on the trafficking ring. She leaned her face against his chest. “Me, too.”

Love was a word she’d heard every day of her life. The customers loved the girls at the Palace. Her father loved her. The men from the yacht club loved how she looked. She was the princess, so they loved her more than all the other girls.

But here, even when he was only pretending, the way Jack had said the word made her feel something she’d never felt before. She closed her eyes and she could only think one thing: the way it would feel to have him say those words and actually mean them.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING it was time to work. Eliza couldn’t wait.

Dressed in shorts and colorful tank tops, she and Jack took a ride over the bridge into Nassau. They walked past the fish fry markets and tourist shops and park benches on West Bay Street. Jack was a head taller than her, but their bodies fit together perfectly. Like they’d known and loved each other for years.

Ahead of them was the busiest and most visible stretch of sand in Nassau. Everything about the bustling area felt familiar.

Eliza spotted trouble almost immediately. Two men in white dress shirts and black pants stood near a swing set, talking to a young girl. The child was maybe twelve or thirteen and she was dressed in rags. Her parents didn’t seem to be anywhere nearby.

Eliza stiffened. “There.” She smiled at Jack. Nothing but happiness, she told herself. Keep smiling. Their lives were on the line here. “By the swings.”

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