They sat out on the wraparound porch of the two-story log cabin, which looked over the setting sun to the west of them. Gage pushed the toe of his boot idly on the cedar deck as the swing moved gently back and forth. They’d arrived a few hours earlier Alexa had made them a steak dinner, salad, and garlic toast. For dessert, she had brought up a cake she’d made the day before, a lemon cream. Before leaving her condo, she had climbed into a pair of jeans, hiking boots, and a pale lavender tee that outlined her small, beautiful breasts and slender body. What made Gage smile was that she placed her long hair into a set of braids, giving her such a youthful look. No longer did she look like the director of the Safe House division.

“This,” she whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder, her forehead against his neck, “is perfect. I feel like I’m in one of my dreams . . .”

Hearing the elation in her low tone, his squeezed her shoulders gently. “This is better than any dream I’ve ever had. All I’ve ever had is broken dreams. Can I dream along with you?”

Alexa opened her eyes and leaned back enough to meet his downward gaze. “There was so much I wanted to talk to you about, Gage, but we couldn’t any earlier than now.”

“I know.” He lightly kissed her. “Time hasn’t been on our side, has it?”

She shook her head, smoothing his T-shirt across his chest. “Gage, you need to know something . . . something that I’ve been wanting to tell you from the moment I met you.”

His hand stilled on her hair and he saw the turmoil in her eyes, heard the quaver in her voice. “Tell me.” He held his breath because he lived in fear that Alexa would, at some time, tell him that she didn’t see them in a serious, long-term relationship like he did. His stomach clenched, waiting. He saw fear in her eyes, trepidation. He allowed his hand to fall on her shoulder, smoothing the material of her shirt.

“I never got to tell you all that happened to me after we were kidnapped.”

“I figured that when the time was right you’d share it with me, Alexa.”

She pulled out of his arms and turned, facing him. “I’ve had nearly four months since it happened, Gage. And I’ve been lucky from the moment you and the SEALs rescued us.” Reaching out, she laid her hand on his. “You were there for me and”—she swallowed, giving him a searching look—“I need you to know just how important that was to me. I know I was a basket case after we got back to Bagram.”