The Intelligence Unit Series

more insistent, making her approach the door with caution.

Jo pulled the last sweater from her dresser and shoved it into her suitcase just in time for a knock to sound off on the door to her borrowed apartment. She considered not answering it—she hadn't buzzed anyone up, and she sure as hell wasn't expecting anyone but then the knock grew "Jo, it's me. I know you're in there because I heard your footsteps. Open up."

Sighing, Jo released the chain and flipped the deadbolt to open the door. Of course Frankie still had an extra key to let herself into the main entrance. Jo should've known she'd show up here eventually.

"You don't have to be a cop every second of every day, you know," she groused, standing back to let Frankie in.

"It's not my fault you fell for that," her sister said, arching a brow. "I'm good, but unless you're stomping toward the door or you're carrying a linebacker on your shoulders, I can't really hear your footsteps. Anyway, it's justified. You weren't answering your phone. How else am I supposed to find out what the hell is going on?"

Sadness stretched out in Jo's chest, but she soldiered past it. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Grabbing Jo's hand, Frankie led her over to the couch, and Jo knew from experience that fighting her was useless. "Well, let's see," Frankie said. "I went by the Crooked Angel to celebrate your audition, but when I got there, you were suspiciously absent and Sawyer was in a mood that can only be described as abominable. When I asked him what was going on, he told me to ask you. But since you didn't answer your phone...damn it, Jo, please don't make me put on my interrogation voice, because-no offense-you look like shit and I'm worried about you. So, can you please help me out, here? What the hell happened?"

Jo meant to stand her ground. She meant to stay tough like always and just say things hadn't worked out with the audition or Sawyer or anything else, no big deal.

But instead, she started to cry, and f**k it. Frankie wasn't going to let her off the hook now.

"I, um. I think I really screwed things up," she said.

"Okay." Frankie lifted a finger. "Give me a sec. I've got you covered, babe."

Working quickly, she grabbed a box of tissues and made two cups of tea, snagging the half-full bag of chocolate chunk cookies from Jo's cupboard before coming back to the couch and listening to the whole story. Jo skirted around the details of Sawyer's past out of respect for his privacy, but everything else came pouring out. Their dinner date. Their incredible conversations, including the one about kids. The time they'd shared together. The feelings she'd been too scared to admit to. The way she'd believed-truly believed, in her heart and soul-that she'd get this part and move to Remington for the filming and finally have all the things she'd wanted six years ago. How it had all come crashing down in the span of a few hours. By the time Jo finally got through the recount of her horrible audition and the ensuing non-versation with Sawyer, her tea was cold and her heart still ached as if she'd been kicked square in the chest.

"Oh, sweetie." Frankie reached out to squeeze Jo's forearm. "I'm so sorry the audition didn't go the way you wanted it to. I know you really wanted the part."

"I should've known better," Jo whispered. "The part, this thing with Sawyer. If I'd played it safe and just stayed in Savannah where I belong, none of this would have happened."

"Do you really believe that?" Frankie asked, and Jo looked at her in confusion.

"Well, yeah. If I hadn't come to Remington for the audition, then-"

"Not that part," Frankie said, shaking her head. "Do you really believe that you belong in Savannah, teaching middle school and watching Netflix alone on Friday nights?"

Jo opened her mouth to say of course she belonged in Savannah. She'd lived there for her whole life. But the truth was, she had been prepared to move to Remington to take this role if she'd landed it—she'd even talked out all the details with Derek, outlining a plan that would allow for her to move Mikayla here while she filmed and for him to bring her back to Savannah for a few extended visits throughout the year. He hadn't been wild about it, but he'd also recognized that she'd wanted it deeply, and that it was a huge opportunity she couldn't pass up. Jo had been ready to take the leap, to dive into the career she'd always wanted and keep waking up next to the man she'd always dreamed might be out there for her.

Could she belong here in Remington-here with Sawyer-even if she didn't get the part?

"It's not that easy," Jo said, shaking her head.

Frankie put her mug down on the coffee table, reaching for Jo's hand. "It's also not that hard. I know you like to play it safe, Jo, and I get it. I really do. But when you're around Sawyer, you don't just look happy. You look like you're really living. You look like you. Don't you think that's worth a little risk?"

Jo's heart pounded in response. Her past had taught her to be cautious-for crap's sake, the one and only time she'd acted on impulse, she'd ended up with a surprise baby, a man who could only commit to sleeping around, and a career she'd had to put on indefinite hold, probably ruining it forever.

But this thing with Sawyer didn't feel like that. It didn't feel scary, or risky, or dangerous, and it never once had. When Jo was with him, she only ever felt like she was exactly where she belonged.

When she was with Sawyer, she felt right, and oh, God.

"I told him no," Jo whispered, her eyes going wide. "Worse than that, I said goodbye! I walked away. How am I supposed to fix that?"

"Well, I think that all depends," Frankie said, "on whether or not you're willing to get a little bold to get him back."

Jo didn't think. She didn't have to. She wanted Sawyer, no matter what. "I am. I'm done being scared to live in the moment."

Frankie smiled, pushing to her feet and pulling Jo up with her. "Come on, then. I'll even give you a police escort. After all, what are sisters for?"

***

For the firsttime since he'd started working at the Crooked Angel, Sawyer had no desire to be behind the bar. He'd tried not to let it show too much; after all, the dinner rush wasn't really going to give a shit that his heart had been smashed into a thousand pieces. But the more he tried, the harder it was to keep his head on straight, let alone smile at the customers starting to fill the seats around the bar.

Yeah. He was going to have to figure out a way to deal with the fact that Jo had left, but it wasn't going to be tonight.

"Hey, Evie," Sawyer said, snagging the attention of their hostess and his assistant-manager-in-training. "I'm going to head back to the office to work on the books for a bit. Javier should be all good in the kitchen, but text me if we get slammed."

"Sure thing," Evie replied, then tagged on, "Are you okay?"

Nope, screamed the hole in his chest, but seriously, he needed to just get through this shift. "Headache. I'll be fine."

He got them often enough that the excuse worked. Making his way through the restaurant, Sawyer cut a path to the small office off the kitchen. The sights and smells normally calmed him, and maybe tomorrow, they'd work a little. But tonight, all he wanted was to be alone. No. Scratch that. What he wanted was to be with Jo. Jo, for whom he'd fought. Jo, for whom he'd been willing to risk his heart.

Jo, who had said goodbye and walked out the door anyway, and damn it, he had to do something to stop feeling like this, even if it was only temporary.

Sawyer threw himself into inventory and kitchen orders, then staffing schedules for good measure. He found as much of a groove as he was going to, losing himself in the work enough that when his phone vibrated with an incoming call, he was shocked to see how much time had passed, then shocked again at who was calling him.

""Hello?"

"Hey, Sawyer," Frankie said. Unlike the ruckus unfolding in Sawyer's chest, she sounded perfectly calm. "Sorry to bother you while you're working, but I was wondering if you could help me out with something."

"Okay," he said, although it was far more of a question than anything else. What could she possibly need his help with?

"Great. I'm here at the restaurant. Can you meet me at the end of the bar? Thanks."

This was officially getting weird. But Frankie had already ended the call, and despite Sawyer's piss-poor mood, if she needed something, he didn't want to leave her hanging. Plus, maybe she'd spoken with Jo about the audition.

Let it go, his inner voice warned. He'd done all that he could, putting his feelings on the line to fight for her. He'd known it was a risk, especially when she'd told him that the audition hadn't gone well, but he'd taken it anyway. Crash, meet burn. The best thing he could do-the only thing, really-was to try to forget it and move on.

Running a hand through his hair, Sawyer made his way through the kitchen, then out to the bar. The dinner rush was in full swing, and he scanned the crowded bar in search of Frankie.

Instead, his eyes caught on Jo, sitting in the spot at the end of the bar she'd been in that very first night and looking so beautiful it made Sawyer ache, and he walked toward her before his brain could even register that his legs were moving.

"Hi," she said, and now that he was closer, he realized with a pang that her eyes were rimmed in red, as if she'd been crying. "Sorry we lied to you." She broke off to gesture across the restaurant, where Frankie waved from her usual seat with the members of the Intelligence Unit and the firefighters from Station Seventeen. "But I wasn't sure you'd want to talk to me."

Sawyer's heart smacked into his sternum. "Why wouldn't I want to talk to you?"

"Because I'm an idiot." Jo slid off her bar stool, closing the space between them until she was less than an arm's length away. "You were honest with me, and I didn't return the favor before. I want to do that now, so here goes. I've been so cautious for so long that I lost sight of the bigger picture. The one where I have to not just believe in myself, but take a risk or two in order to really live. I let what happened at my audition today scare me into thinking I'd been too risky, and I panicked. But the truth is, being with you isn't a risk at all. It feels real. It feels right." "It feels right to me, too," Sawyer said, hope filling his chest. "I know we have a lot to figure out, and that parts of that are overwhelming as hell. You live in Savannah, and your daughter is there. My job is here. I wanted to be honest with you about how I felt, to let you know that I believe in you-in us-even if you didn't get the part, but I realize now that I kind of sprang it on you. I don't blame you for wanting to play it safe."

Jo took a step closer, looking right into his eyes. "It's true that playing it safe never broke my heart, but it never let me fall for anyone either. I'm done letting caution hold me back. We do have a lot to figure out, and that means we'll probably have to do this long-distance for a while, but I don't care. Part or no part, I want to go all-in. I want you, Sawyer."

"I want you, too, Jo."

Not caring that he was in a bar full of people, he cupped her face and kissed her. Jo didn't seem to care about the PDA either, because she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him right back, holding him tight until the sound of a throat clearing interrupted them. "Is it safe to assume you two got that all worked out?" Frankie asked, and Sawyer laughed.

"You're an excellent detective," he said. "And an even better sister."

"I'm going to remind you of that when you come to meet the rest of our family," she teased, but Sawyer just grinned.

"Deal."

He turned to ask Jo if she wanted her usual, but the sound of her cell phone ringing beat him to her attention. "Hello?" she said, the crease of her brows marking her confusion. "Oh, hi, Genevieve. No, you came up as Unknown Caller."

Sawyer's great mood dropped down a peg. Jo's agent was probably calling with the official word on the audition. He guided her to a quieter section of the bar, then stepped back to give her at least a little privacy to take the call. Frankie shot him a worried glance, but Sawyer shook his head. Jo was smart and talented and absolutely f*****g gorgeous. She'd land another role. He was sure of it.

Five minutes later, she walked back toward him, and oh, hell, she looked like she'd seen a ghost.

"Jo?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

"I, uh." She blinked, staring first at her phone, then at him. "I got the part."

Sawyer's breath left his lungs in a gust. "You what?"

"I got the part." That time, the words seemed to sink in, and she covered her mouth with one hand, eyes wide. "Apparently, Teresa Park was so impressed with my third take that she told the other executives she didn't want to see anyone else. She said"-Jo paused for a breath, reminding Sawyer that oxygen was probably a good idea, all around "she said that it took balls to ask for a third take after two side-steps, and that it took unbelievable talent to nail an audition the way I had, and that those two things are exactly what she wants in the actress who plays this role. She had to convince a few of the others, and I'll have to seriously bring my A-game to every shoot, but Genevieve said it's a done deal. The part is mine."

"I knew it!" Sawyer scooped her up and swung her around, and Jo held on tight as she began to laugh along with him. "I'm so proud of you, Jo. You did it."

"We did it," she said. "I never would've believed in myself if you hadn't believed in me first."

"I believe champagne is in order," Sawyer said, motioning to the bartender for a quick round, then holding his glass up to Jo's, the pale liquid dancing in the soft light. "Here's to new beginnings."

"To new beginnings," she murmured.

And as Jo pressed up to kiss him, Sawyer knew they were both exactly where they belonged.

Together.