For a man who was so confident and take-charge in every other aspect of his life, when it came to his family he made himself blend into the background, when he was usually a guy who was bigger than life. And it wasn't as though they were excluding him from their conversation, but it was just so obvious to Lora, especially after her discussion with Joel at the cabin, that he felt as though he didn't fit in and didn't have that bond that his two brothers, Scott and Alex, did.

She supposed that over the many years since his mother's death, Joel's actions had just become routine and automatic, and everyone around him accepted his remote personality as all a part of his tough military image. But now, Lora knew his outward appearance of indifference went so much deeper. Knew that somewhere deep inside there was still a small part of that little boy he'd once been, the one who craved acceptance and a sense of belonging-despite the fact that he'd been the one to distance himself from his family.

But that's the man he'd become in order to cope with the loss of his mother at such a young age. He'd taken his feelings and shut them away, which had been so much easier than dealing with them.

But cutting off his emotions had affected him on other levels of his life, most obviously with relationships, and now especially with them. But she couldn't coerce him to change, or force him to love her-she'd learned that lesson with Brent and knew that it was all up to Joel to want to change. To allow himself to be loved in return.

Her own emotions tightened in her chest, and she finally tore her gaze from Joel and joined the conversation going on among the women.

From there, the evening went by quickly, and before long it was time to leave. She and Joel said their goodbyes to everyone and headed back to her place. Just as they'd walked into her apartment, the cell phone clipped to the waistband of Joel's pants vibrated.

He flipped the unit open and pressed it to his ear. "Yeah?" Joel answered, and just by that informal greeting Lora knew it was one of the ESS guys. Instinctively knew, too, why they were calling.

She listened to the one-way conversation from Joel's end, feeling a jolt of anticipation that this situation was finally over, along with a sense of dread because of what it meant for her and Joel. The end, as well. There was nothing left for him to stay for.

A few minutes later, he snapped the phone shut and turned to face her. "It's done," he said quietly, his gaze not quite meeting hers. "All of it. Mendoza is paid off with interest, your insurance policy is off the table, and you and Zach are both in the free and clear."

After weeks of upheaval, the relief rushing through her was incredibly welcome. "What about Zach?"

"Kevin is taking him to a rehab center as we speak," he said, making way too much of a production of clipping his phone back in place-a stall tactic, she knew, so he didn't have to look at her and deal with the emotional fallout between them. "We already have him registered and the place is expecting him. Most likely, he'll be there for a few months."

"I don't care. Whatever it takes to get him over his addictions and back on track." When Joel still found reasons not to glance her way, she closed the distance between them and curled her fingers around his forearm, giving it a gentle, meaningfully squeeze. "Thank you, Joel, for everything," she said softly. "For taking care of me, and for saving Zach."

Finally he met her gaze. An easygoing smile curved his lips, belying the deeper, darker pain she detected in his eyes-a telltale sign that maybe, hopefully, walking away from her wasn't going to be so easy after all. "Taking care of you was easy," he said huskily. "As for Zach, I owed him. He saved my life, and now I'm going to save his ass. I'm sure he's going to go through more hell in that rehab center than I did when I got shot in my leg, but I'm hoping he'll thank me for it later."

"I'm sure he will." She let her hand drop back down to her side as an awkward silence settled between them. "So, this is it, then? We're done?" The last question deliberately held dual meaning, and considering how his jaw clenched ever-so-slightly, he'd caught her subtle double entendre.

He exhaled a ragged breath and reached for his duffel bag, which he'd left at the end of the sofa. "Yeah, we're done," he said, his tone low and rough, as if he'd just swallowed a handful of gravel. "Just let me pack up my things, and I'll finally be out of your way."

He'd never been in her way, and he knew it, too. Yet he was scrambling to get his things together and leave, instead of facing what was still between them. It was exactly what she'd expected, and his quick retreat shouldn't have hurt, but it did.

She sat down on the sofa as he went to retrieve his shaving kit from the bathroom. Already, she was dreading how alone and quiet it was going to be in her apartment once he was gone.

As she watched him pack his toiletries and finish stuffing the rest of his items into his bag, she realized that she didn't want him to leave without knowing how she felt about him. Mostly, she didn't want to live with regrets of what she should have said and done before he exited her life. She was going to lay her heart and soul bare. She'd tell him the truth, let him know that she'd fallen in love with him, and maybe, hopefully, he'd allow her to love him in all the ways he needed and deserved.

"I guess that's it." He zipped up his duffel bag and reluctantly glanced at her. "I'll be on an assignment for the next few weeks, but if you need me for anything at all, you have my cell number."

God, she needed him already. Before she lost her courage, she stood up from the couch and rubbed her damp hands down the sides of her skirt. "Joel, before you go, there's something I need to tell you."

He looked at her warily, then apparently sensing her nervousness, his gaze narrowed with a please-don't-go-there warning. The kind that men gave women when they sensed an emotional conversation on the horizon, and in this case he'd be right.

"Okay," he said, but his unwillingness to hear what she had to say was very obvious in the tense set of his jaw and the way his hands had curled into fists at his side.

But at least he stayed, and she was grateful for even that much from him.

"I know this isn't something you want to hear, but I'm going to say it anyway." She swallowed to ease the sudden dryness in her mouth. "I'm in love with you, Joel."

He looked away from her and swore beneath his breath, the sound filled with frustration and a hint of anger. His adverse response was as effective as rebuffing every bit of intimacy they'd shared, and felt the equivalent of being shot straight through the heart, leaving her breathless and aching.

She really shouldn't have been surprised by his reaction, because she'd known better than to expect a declaration of undying love in return. But she knew that Joel cared for her. Knew there was something real and honest between them that could grow into so much more if he'd let it. And therein lay their problem-his inability to open up and let her in to all those places that had been empty for so long, he didn't know anything else.

"Look, I don't expect anything in return," she said, knowing that was a big, fat lie. "You made your position on relationships and being committed very clear to me, and I'm not asking for any of that. I just wanted you to know how I felt."

"Lora… I can't." His tone was as tortured as the look in his dark blue eyes. "I just can't do it."

She walked toward him, closing the distance between them, and placed a hand on his cheek. "That's where you're wrong, Joel. You could do it. If you really wanted to." She skimmed her fingers along his jaw before letting them fall away. "You're just so used to being on the outside looking in, to being the odd man out, that you don't know anything else."

A frown creased his brows. "What are you talking about?" he asked gruffly.

"I saw it tonight at your sister's gallery, Joel. I saw how you were with your brothers, how you kept yourself apart from them because it's just an instinctive thing for you and something you've done since your mother's death. But it doesn't have to be that way. At least not with me."

He didn't say anything, but the pain in his eyes spoke more than words ever could. He hated being on the outside, but it was all he'd ever known.

"Sometimes you just have to put yourself out there emotionally and take a chance," she suggested, then shook her head at the irony of that statement. "I can't believe I'm saying that to someone who claims to be a risk-taker, a man who is strong and fearless and risks his life to protect others, and would willingly put himself in the direct line of danger if a situation warrants it. It seems the one and only aspect of your life that you do play it safe with is your heart and your relationships."

His eyes flashed with irritation. "With good reason."

She smiled, knowing better. Possibly knowing him better than he knew himself. "So you keep saying, but I've yet to find a reason that you can't work through, if you really wanted to."

He stared at her for a long, hard moment, then picked up his duffel bag, effectively putting an end to a conversation he didn't want to hear or face. "I need to go."

"I know," she said softly, and didn't say anything more as he turned around and headed toward the front door. He walked out without looking back, and she let him go, even though it was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do.

With a sigh that seemed to unravel her from the inside out, she sat back down on the couch, already feeling the quiet and solitude of her apartment closing in on her. Yeah, she had her life back, but it sure didn't amount to much without Joel in it.