Page 13 of Honor Code

He gave an uncertain nod. He might not know the first thing about seismic surveys or oil reservoirs, but he knew about duty and dedication—and Ellie had those in spades.

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. Here I am waffling on about my work problems. How was your day?”

“Uneventful. I slept most of the morning, then worked out in the gym. You know how it is.”

She gave an understanding nod. There were only so many things you could do on the rig in your down time.

“What made you go into private security?” she asked, and he knew she was just being polite and making conversation.

He shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

"You don't like talking about yourself much, do you?" The way she was staring at him seemed like she had him pegged. Maybe she did.

He masked a grin. "Occupational hazard. I was in the Navy for nearly twenty years. Uncle Sam doesn't like us talking about operational stuff, so we learn to keep our mouths shut."

She nodded. "I get that. It's the same in my industry, but not because we can't talk about our work—although sometimes we can’t. It's more because nobody else understands what we're talking about." Her lips curled.

He tried not to notice how enticing they were.

“Chemical engineering isn’t the most exciting job in the world. Not like what you do.”

“Private security can be pretty boring too,” he said, thinking about last night, patrolling around the deserted rig, staring at nothing by blackness.

“I guess so, but you’ve seen your share of action. I can tell by the way you don’t want to talk about it. We always avoid subjects we don’t want to talk about.”

He stared at her, long and hard. What was she? A shrink too? “What do you know about that?

She shrugged, and he recalled the look in her eyes when he’d had her pinned to the ground the day before. Fear and panic, followed by a frenzied determination to throw him off. Anger, when she couldn’t.

He’d been right. She’d experienced a traumatic event herself. One that she couldn’t forget—or talk about.

“I know more than you think,” she said softly, confirming his thoughts.

He detected a hint of sadness. As he knew very well, it was impossible to turn back time. How often had he wished that very thing? To go back to that day in Basra, to have that moment again.

The problem was, orders were orders. Truth be told, he’d have to make the same decision. The one that condemned his friends to a certain death.

Fuck.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her what it was that she couldn’t let go of, but he didn’t. Not because he didn’t want to know—he was definitely curious—but because he wasn’t sure he should. It was too easy talking to her. Getting personal meant crossing a line, and crossing lines led to other things like sharing confidences. Give and take. He’d have to reciprocate, and he couldn’t do that.

Not yet.

Not to anyone.

Not even to a beautiful engineer who, under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t mind getting to know.

Phoenix cleared his throat ignoring the pang of regret. As much as he wanted to confide in her, he couldn’t. He was a mess—his head was all over the place. Opening up to her would just mean adding to that mess.

Besides, she was way out of his league. He’d just be opening himself up for disappointment. That was why he’d walked away that morning too. Made some dumb excuse about carrying on with his rounds. He could have spared a few more moments talking with her. Hell, with Boomer on the other side of the rig, he could have spared another hour, but he’d bailed.

Why?

The little voice that said he wasn’t worthy. And it was shouting at him now.

He stood. “I’ve gotta get ready.”

Ellie gave a little nod. “Thanks for the coffee—and for listening.”