Chapter 14

Harm sat in one of the oversized Adirondack chairs, his expression laced with annoyance as Ellie paced in front of him. He ran a hand over his cheek that still stung from the slap she'd landed the moment he stepped outside. A hit that was well deserved.

He had always prided himself on being honorable, the kind of man who would bury his feelings rather than act on them, especially for a woman who belonged to someone else. But the truth was his marriage to Ellie had been rocky from the start. That didn't excuse him. She didn't deserve a cheating husband. And Mac didn't deserve to be an unwitting adulteress.

"You deserved that," Ellie said flippantly, waving a hand in his direction.

"I know."

She sighed and leaned against the wooden railing, putting just enough space between them to breathe. It also gave her a clear view through the window, where the brunette stood watching them, her expression a mix of curiosity and unease.

It was clear that her husband had never mentioned their marriage, nor the impromptu wedding thrown together on a whim. Not that she blamed him. Their marriage wasn't terrible, per se. Lord knew David Elliott was a good man, far better than her abusive ex. But they had never loved each other the way truly happy couples should. And after witnessing just a fraction of his interaction with the brunette, Ellie finally understood why.

Of course, Ellie had known about the woman, athough he only spoke of her in drunken stupors. David was always angry when her name surfaced, but it was in his weakest moments that the truth slipped out. The woman he loved had married someone else, and rather than live in her shadow, he had walked away from his old life entirely.

Something bad had happened as a result. She didn't know the details, but she knew the anger it left behind that only grew over time, festering into something bitter and destructive.

Pathetic? Maybe. But she understood more than most. She had survived an abusive ex-husband, after all. "Didn't wait too long to hook up with someone else."

"Ellie, it's not what you think."

She let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "I catch my husband fucking another woman, and it's not what I think?"

"We weren't fucking." His tone was matter-of-fact, though they both knew exactly where that moment in the kitchen had been headed.

"She was naked. On the counter. I hardly think the two of you were baking." Ellie's voice dripped with sarcasm, but there was no real surprise in it, just a tired kind of resignation. When she glanced back at the window, the brunette was gone. No doubt rushing to pack her things, slipping out the back door with her tail between her legs.

Coward.

"She's Sarah, isn't she?" Ellie pressed, her voice quieter now. "The one you were in love with."

"You knew she existed when we got married."

The moment the words left his mouth, Harm cringed. It made Ellie sound like nothing more than a rebound, an afterthought used to warm his bed.

Her eyes flashed with fury, and before he could react, her hand shot up again. This time, he caught her wrist before she could land another slap, pushing her back just enough to create space between them.

"Eleanor, stop."

The blonde had always been a force to be reckoned with. Her emotional strength was part of what made her so appealing wrapped in a package that was undeniably easy on the eyes.

Like Mac, Ellie was an outdoor girl. Tough, tomboyish, yet effortlessly sexy. But unlike Mac, she never backed down. She pushed, pressed, and refused to let go of a topic until she had the answers she wanted.

Ellie was a little rougher around the edges, while Mac carried herself with a grace and elegance that set her apart. He admired both women in their own ways, but his heart had only ever belonged to one.

And he had thought and hoped his wife would understand that.

"You said you'd never see her again."

"I thought I wouldn't."

Harm pushed himself up from the chair, pacing the length of the porch in a wide circle. His hands found his hips and he tipped his head back as he exhaled sharply. His gaze flicked toward the house, searching for Mac. He could only assume she was upstairs, trying to make sense of the mess unraveling around her.

He should have told her. "Hell, I would've bet my life she'd never find me."

"Well, thank the Lord you aren't a betting man. How the hell did she find you?"

"I don't know."

It should have been impossible. Every safeguard, every layer of misinformation, every step he had taken to bury Harmon Rabb Jr. beneath the identity of David Elliott should have ensured that part of his life stayed dead.

Hood River wasn't exactly the middle of nowhere, but it may as well have been. He had no business being here—no reason for a man like Harmon Rabb Jr. to spend his days hauling wood out of the mountains. And yet, somehow, she had found him.

Ellie threw her hands up, exasperated and not just by his vague answer, but by the way David kept glancing toward the windows, searching for the brunette.

She had done so much to help him heal. She was the one who had pulled him out of the bottle he drowned himself in night after night. She had held him through the worst of it, when nightmares tore through his sleep, leaving him shaken and gasping for air.

And through it all, it was always the same, names from his past, ghosts that refused to rest, playing lead roles in the nightly horrors he could never escape.

He had spoken of plane crashes, of plummeting into the dark abyss of the ocean. He had muttered about covert assignments in foreign lands, the weight of secrets pressing down on him. And in his most fractured moments, he had described watching a man get stabbed over and over, the horror of it burned into his memory like an open wound that refused to heal.

He constantly spoke of people from his past, especially figures who haunted him. Sarah was one of them. A ghost he couldn't outrun, a name whispered in the dark when sleep left him vulnerable. The lead protagonist.

And now, Ellie found herself feeling an immeasurable amount of disdain for the mystery woman who had unknowingly ruled over her husband's nightmares and also his heart.

"You were a mess when we met. Drinking all the time, depressed, lonely… all because of whatever fucked-up shit she did to you. I dusted you off. I fixed you. And this is the thanks I get?"

Harm let out a humorless laugh. "Fixed me? That's a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"Is it?" Ellie jabbed a finger into his chest hard enough that it actually hurt. "So finding you at my doorstep with a bottle of Jack, half-drunk… I imagined that?"

"No."

"Getting you out of the hospital because you wrapped your car around a tree and dislocated your shoulder, while lying to the cops about being so drunk you couldn't even stand - I must have a wild fucking imagination."

Harm sighed, wishing he could erase those first few months in Hood River. He had been a mess, there was no denying that. But it hadn't been just because of Mac. There was more to it, layers of regret he couldn't shake.

Drinking had helped him forget, if only for a while. But in the end, it had caused more harm than good.

"Do you remember how we met?" Not that it was long ago but part of her needed reassurance.

"Of course I do."

Ellie had owned the bar where the guys from work gathered after long days, their usual haunt for unwinding over drinks and conversation. Harm had been an outsider at first. The men saw him as a newcomer, a friend of the owner and someone who didn't quite belong. So, he kept to himself, sitting at the far end of the bar, nursing bourbon in the shadows, trying to keep his anger in check.

Eventually, the men warmed up to him, and his initiation came in the form of a dare. One that left him stumbling onto Ellie's front porch, half-drunk and wearing nothing but a hard hat.

She could have laughed him off, shut the door in his face. Instead, she took pity on him. Gave him something to wear. Let him sleep off the alcohol.

By morning, he was gone.

But the next day, Harm returned to the bar with a dozen red roses in hand. Ellie ignored his advances at first, brushing him off. So he waited, night after night, at a table in the back, until she finally relented and agreed to one date.

Just one.

But one had quickly turned into something more.

They shared an odd bond. Two broken souls finding solace in each other. For Ellie, he was a distraction from the ache of a messy divorce. For Harm, she was someone he could trust when trust felt impossible.

He hadn't been completely forthcoming about his former life, but he hadn't outright lied either. He shared pieces of his past, offering glimpses without the fine details, just enough to satisfy, but never enough to truly let her in.

"I didn't want to hurt you."

Ellie scoffed, her expression twisting in disbelief. "You knew she was coming."

"No, I didn't."

Her eyes narrowed. "You had to, David… How the hell else could she just show up right after we agreed to separate for a while?"

"Dumb luck? Maybe?" But even he had to admit that it all felt a little too convenient.

Her eyes narrowed. "My gut told me to stay the hell away from you. I should have fucking listened."

It had been simple, uncomplicated, and fun until the night Dax picked his first fight with the man he still saw as an outsider.

Both were inebriated, but a military man had the advantage when it came to fistfights. Harm's instincts had been honed young, fifteen and already learning survival alongside Striker in Laos. Years of boxing at the Naval Academy had sharpened his reflexes, and flying had only refined them further.

The older man never stood a chance.

As a circle of men formed around them, Harm dismantled his opponent with effortless precision. It wasn't a fight; it was a lesson.

The police were called, and Harm disappeared before they arrived, retreating to the hidden basement beneath the bar—a former speakeasy. That's where Ellie found him, curled in a corner, bloodied and shaking, a hollowed-out version of the man he once was.

He stopped drinking that night.

Ellie endured the days that followed,watching him dry out, thrashing through withdrawal on the tiny twin bed in her office beneath the bar.

David yelled obscenities, muttered incoherent things, his body fighting the poison he'd been drowning in for far too long. But through all the rambling, all the restless nights and fevered dreams, one thing remained constant.

Sarah.

Her name spilled from his lips over and over, whispered, pleaded, cursed, always there, lingering in the darkness. There was no escaping her.

Ellie dropped unceremoniously into the chair he had occupied moments ago, clasping her hands together as if holding herself back. Harm was still pacing restlessly, the movement making him look like a caged lion.

"You knew I wasn't coming back for a few months. You knew this. We agreed to take a break…" She leaned back, almost regal, watching him with a glare. Ellie followed his gaze, sighing heavily as the woman appeared again at the base of the steps—fully dressed this time.

She didn't know Sarah, not really. Only through the few painful discussions they'd had, the ones where David had been too drunk to filter the anguish from his voice.

"All of your problems started with her."

"I can't argue that."

"And yet here you are, fucking her again. Are you insane?"

Years had passed, and still, he found himself trying to explain his relationship with Mac. Why did everyone assume they were lovers?

"Not sure what I told you, but we've never slept together before now. She was a friend—my best friend and…"

"Your best friend?" Ellie's exasperated expression cut him off before he could finish. "Give me a break, David!"

Harm waved a hand dismissively. "Never mind. You can't possibly understand what it was."

Ellie glanced through the window, spotting the other woman standing in the dimly lit living room. Even with the limited lighting, she could see it, the pull, the quiet allure that David had never been able to resist.

Sarah had that rare kind of beauty, the effortless kind that didn't need embellishment. And for the first time, the statuesque blond, the woman who had always been confident in her own skin and now felt a flicker of inadequacy.

"She's gorgeous."

"Yes, she is."

Harm's lips curved into a small smile, one he couldn't hide even if he wanted to. Sarah wasn't just beautiful. She was something more, something deeper. "She's more than just looks."

His Marine. His anchor. The one person who had always understood him, even when he didn't understand himself.

Ellie studied him, her voice quieter now, but no less sharp. "And you want to be with her, don'tcha? Not just a roll in the hay."

"I've always wanted her," he admitted. "But I knew that wanting her meant sacrificing my career or hers… and I wasn't ready for that."

"Let me guess, you're ready now?"

Ellie's glare was sharp enough to cut, the kind of look that could break most men. But David didn't flinch. He didn't say a word. And that silence was all the confirmation she needed.

She wouldn't step away now, not after giving so much of herself to him and taking pieces of her own life to help rebuild his.

The divorce papers had been drafted before her three-month trek across Europe, a "just in case" policy, something they had both agreed might be for the best. But when Gigi had emailed about the woman who'd suddenly appeared in town, Ellie knew she was no longer ready to walk away.

Not without a fight.

With quiet indignation, Ellie stared at her husband. The idiot had been scorned so badly before, and she'd be damned if she was going to stand by and let this Sarah watch him crumble all over again.

"You're still married to me, David. And whatever that's worth, I'm not letting you do this… I'm not going to let you screw up your life just because some woman is a good lay."

"This isn't about sex. It never was. If it were, I would've slept with her years ago and gotten her out of my system."

But it was never that simple. Because deep down, he had always known the moment they crossed that line, his world would never be the same. "I love her. I'm in love with her. And nothing will ever change that."

"You're in love with her." Ellie repeated the words slowly. She rose from the chair, stepping to his side. Her arm brushed against his as they both leaned against the doorframe, staring out at nothing.

Her voice was quieter now, almost contemplative. "Did you ever love me?"

Harm did what he did best—the lawyer thing. Answering a question with a question he already knew the answer to. "Did you ever love me?"

"Yes." Ellie's voice was clipped, annoyed, but honest.

Harm sighed, running a hand through his hair before turning to her. "I did too… I care for you more than you can imagine, Ellie. I don't want you to get hurt, and I hate that I have."

"So you do love me." Ellie twisted the knife a little deeper, her voice laced with something between challenge and pain. She ran a slow finger down his chest, her touch deceptively gentle. "When we were in bed… did you ever think of her?"

With nothing left to lose, he admitted it—though it pained him to know she would see him in this light. He wasn't a bad man. Far from it. But he was flawed, and the mistakes he had made shamed him. The truth was, he had never been able to let Mac go. "Sometimes."

Ellie's breath hitched. She pulled her hand away as if burned. "Ouch."

"Do you want me to lie?"

Ellie didn't answer. Instead, she glanced through the window again. Mac was gone. Figures. "You said you met at work."

Harm exhaled, a small, almost nostalgic smile tugging at his lips. "We actually met in a rose garden."

The memory flickered to life in his mind, playing in black and white like an old film reel. He could still smell the roses, feel the warmth of her hand in his. For a split second, he had been thrown by the uncanny resemblance, the way she reminded him of someone else. A doppelgänger of a past he hadn't yet made peace with.

They weren't supposed to get too close, Admiral's orders. Mac wasn't even supposed to stay in Washington. But he had fought to keep her there, championed to have her as his partner. Because she was sharp, capable, a perfect fit.

And because, against his better judgment, he had already become enamored with the Marine.

Ellie let out a sharp, humorless laugh, rolling her eyes. "How romantic." Her voice dripped with sarcasm, laced with something bitter. "Of course, you did."

"It's the truth."

Harm looked at her, his expression unreadable, locked down. He wouldn't let her see the hurt beneath the surface. "She isn't your enemy. You and me… we were good for a while, but we both know we would have burned out…badly. We started too chaotic to last."

Ellie knew he was right, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of saying it out loud.

"I'm still not making it easy, David." Her voice was steady, unwavering. "You have feelings for me. If you didn't, you would've signed the papers the second I had them drafted. But you didn't. You fought me—sending emails, leaving calls I never returned."

She took a step closer, eyes locked on his. "Feelings like that don't just change overnight. I'm not letting you go."

She placed a hand on his forearm, fingers pressing just enough to feel the tension beneath his skin. A slight squeeze—and she didn't miss the way goosebumps rose in response. "See."

That small reaction, that whatever he tried to hide, made her feel validated. Her voice dropped, steady and certain. "We're not over."

It was a small reaction, barely noticeable—but it betrayed his words. And for Ellie, it was enough to make her feel validated.

He didn't argue. He just watched as Ellie climbed into her Jeep and drove away, the tail lights disappearing into the night. Harm let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face.

Now, he had to deal with Mac.

He'd rather face a firing squad—or be left to die in the inky blackness of a storm-tossed ocean.