by Vivian Arend
He sighed wearily. “I’m so misunderstood.”
“Right.” She could picture him leaning back in his chair, long legs stretched out as he grinned at her. “I’m not feeling the sincerity in that.”
“You should talk. I read your training plans for them for the coming week. I’m going to lose my Evil Lord title to you by Wednesday. Hey—you had self-rescue on the list for today. Interested in taking the crew to the Cliffs of Insanity for that exercise instead of using the wall?”
“Really? That would be perfect, only I wasn’t going to make them hike that far since they’re doing other conditioning already.”
“We’ll do a drop. Erin is flying patterns, and hovering in that area is good for her.”
A rush of absolute terror stopped Becki from being able to answer right away. He expected her to rappel to the training area. She stared out the window and attempted to keep the little coffee she’d swallowed from coming up on her.
“Becki? You still there?”
“Just, I don’t think I can do that, not yet, Marcus. The wall would be better.”
His confusion was clear. “You can’t do what?”
The words came out broken as she whispered, “Rappel from the chopper.”
“Oh God, no, Becki. I didn’t mean you.” His deep voice soothed her even as her heart continued to race. “Erin will land the bird so you and I can hop out. Yes, you’d have to feel comfortable getting in the beast, but I thought you should be okay in the cargo bay. If you’re game.”
Becki took a deep breath. “Okay. Yes, I think I can handle that. Sorry for panicking.”
“I should have been clearer,” he apologized. “I’ll come and pick you up in an hour to hit the shop. We’ll gather equipment there.”
She promised to be ready and hung up, the phone dangling from her fingertips as she leaned her head against the cold glass and looked over the grey day, wondering if this was a really bad move, or if it would end up simply being another step on her way to full recovery.
One thing was certain. There was nothing wrong with her hormones. Other than they were still trigger-happy anytime she got around Marcus. He pulled to the curb and hopped out, grabbing her gear bag and tossing it in the back. She wavered on her feet before choosing to ignore the urge to steal a kiss, instead yanking open the door and crawling into the passenger seat.
Marcus checked her out slowly before closing the door for her. She focused forward, fingers locked together, nervous about the upcoming chopper trip, confused by how awkward she felt being with him and not sure what stage of affection to show.
The ten-minute ride to the field was far quieter than she’d expected.
The silence that had surrounded them as he drove was only made more shocking when contrasted with the high volume of voices and shouting they discovered in the storage bay. Becki leaned against the wall out of the way of the action and simply observed as the team pulled together the equipment Tripp called out.
It was loud and wild and totally good-natured, and some of the edge eased from her soul. Maybe the sleeplessness of the night before had affected her more than she’d imagined.
She went through her own gear bag, double-checking that she had all the required equipment. Even if she wasn’t able to climb, she wanted to be sure to have the supplies to make examples. Short lengths of lightweight cording, neatly coiled and tied off. Extra carabiners, tape. Her knife.
She slipped to the side where there was an open table and smiled at Devon, who was working in that area.
“Got room for me?”
“No problem.” He indicated her gear. “By the way, let me know if you need anything—I’m cutting ropes this afternoon and can get you new lengths to order.”
She nodded. “Thanks, I’ll let you know.”
Across the room, Xavier and Tripp continued to shout at each other. Erin wandered through the doorway, fully suited up, and waved at Becki. Marcus supervised and stepped in as needed.
The rush and excitement of the preparations made her ache to be back on active duty and stirred up the sense of loss all over again.
Alisha zipped a bag and tossed it to the pile of prepared gear. She wore a most indignant expression as she slapped her hands clean, her gaze focused on Devon. The sight of the small blonde stomping across the room toward them had to mean trouble. Becki poked Devon in the side, then tilted her head as a warning. Devon turned in time to discover Alisha glaring at him.
“Did you have a nice day yesterday?” she demanded.
“Um, yesterday? I guess so.” Devon frowned. “Was pretty laid back.”
“Good to hear it wasn’t any trouble. I thought maybe it was too challenging, you know, keeping track of details. Little things like mentioning to all your teammates when you make a scheduling change.”
Devon wrinkled his nose sheepishly. “Oh, that.”
Alisha shoved up to Devon and got right in his face, which was pretty impressive considering she was a good foot shorter than him. “Yes, that. Imagine my surprise when I called the paper this morning to ask a simple question and discovered the interview already happened. Didn’t want me around? Jerk.”
Uh-oh. That was what the guys had been talking about the day before. Becki wondered how Devon was going to explain this one.
“Alisha.” Devon patted her shoulder. “It’s not like that—”
“Don’t bother with the excuses.” She twisted her way out from under his touch, crossing her arms and lifting her chin in defiance. “I wasn’t interested in taking part anyway, but you’re still a jerk.”
Alisha spun on her heel and slipped away. Devon stared after her with something near hopeless adoration on his face. There was a good chance Erin had been right about Alisha and Devon being attracted to each other, at least on Devon’s part.
“Your trick backfire?” Becki asked, stepping in closer so she could speak without being overheard.
He shook himself alert and glanced in her direction. “What’s that? Oh, yeah. Well, it wasn’t really a trick.” Devon examined the area, but no one was looking their way. “Ted was shooting off his mouth the other day about what a hot bod Alisha had, and it was right after that when the idea of bringing a cameraman along became a part of the interview.”
Good grief. “Where did you hear . . . ?” No. Lecturing Devon was not a part of her responsibilities. Only, it was, now that she’d been working with them. “Clearly, changing plans to protect Alisha from the big bad wolves without her knowledge isn’t the way to earn brownie points.”
Devon nodded slowly, watching Alisha as she carried the supplies out the door to the chopper. “Obviously. Only Ted didn’t really do anything wrong, and it’s not like I have the right to say anything.”
God, it was like being back in middle school again. She wanted to fluff his hair, he was so damn cute. “Well, if you’re going to get the girl, you’re going to have to work a little harder now, aren’t you?”
Devon blinked in surprise. “Get the girl? . . . Oh.”
Becki snorted. “If you’re trying to hide your interest in Alisha, you’re doing it wrong.”
Devon flashed his hundred-watt smile, and she wondered why Alisha seemed to be trying to avoid him. He was somewhat addictive, if you liked them sweet.
Marcus stepped back into the building, and the rush of hormones that hit clearly indicated her tastes ran much more to the savoury. The dark and dangerous. He didn’t walk, he prowled, and every nerve tingled in response, which was both lovely and frightening.
He stopped by her side and looked her over carefully. “You ready for this?”
Another shudder of upset roiled through her stomach, and she fought to keep it under control. Maybe her current case of nerves had nothing to do with the sexual tension between them. “I think so.”
Becki turned toward the chopper and took a deep breath.
* * *
She could have been climbing the gallows for how enthusiastically she moved. Marcus glanced around the p
assenger seats to double-check that all the team were ready before crawling into the back with Becki.
They found their places in the smaller jump seats, the space around them dark and windowless. It didn’t do much good for his nerves, but this wasn’t about him, but about Becki and helping her take the next step. She buckled in, and he managed his own straps, both of them reaching for the headsets hanging on the wall.
The solid hum of the props was blocked by the headset he slipped on, clicking the transceiver to channel two. He held up his fingers to indicate the number to Becki. She clicked her own button before catching hold of the chest straps and white-knuckling them.
“The rest of the team is on channel four. I told them to stay off this line. You need anything, let me know.”
She nodded rapidly even as she attempted to slow her breathing through her nose, lips sealed into a thin line.
Marcus cursed the fates that had taken this woman and torn her apart so hard. The fear in her eyes and the tension in her body—she hadn’t done anything to deserve the torment, and he wanted so badly to make it better. To take the fear from her.
All he could do was be there as much as she allowed him, and staying behind the limits she seemed to have built in the past day was killing him.
“Okay to go?” Marcus laid his hand on her thigh. He didn’t know if she needed it, but he damn well did.
Becki’s head snapped up, her gaze darting off whatever point on which she’d focused on the ground, and she nodded agreement, still without speaking.
Terror hovered in her eyes, and he nearly called the entire trip off. She must have seen what he planned, or sensed it. Becki slapped at her speaker button and shakily answered him. “Ready for takeoff.”
Maybe her voice was unsteady, but her expression dared him to do anything but let her try. He signaled Erin to go ahead, his gaze focused intently on Becki.
He’d abort the lift in a second if needed.
The buzz of the props increased even through the protective headset. Becki swallowed hard but otherwise didn’t move as the pressure changed and the floor beneath them angled slightly as Erin took them skyward.
Becki’s nostrils flared as she breathed in, eyes closing. Under his hand her leg quivered, and he squeezed lightly.
She caught hold of his fingers, and his heart leapt. Her firm grip remained for about a twenty count as he breathed with her. Willing her to be able to take the trip. Praying for her to be able to get back the control she so wanted.
It took five minutes before anything changed. Her eyes remained squeezed shut, but her death grip loosened. Marcus breathed easier. With every moment that passed, they got closer to the drop site. If they could get off the chopper without her having a panic attack, it would make the next time that much smoother.
At least that was what he’d found. Success bred success.
The helicopter shook briefly, probably caught in an eddy around one of the mountains, and Marcus cursed as Becki choked. She scrambled for the bag he’d discreetly tucked beside her and lost her breakfast.
The override broke through his headset as Erin spoke. “Sorry, boss, the cross turbulence caught me by surprise. How bad was it back there?”
Becki was white-faced and shaking, clinging to the arms of her chair with the bag propped between her legs. She looked miserable, but she wasn’t screaming in terror.
“Estimated time to arrival?” he demanded.
“Ten minutes to hover site,” Erin snapped back.
“Put us down first, then you can lift and do the drops for the crew.”
“Shit. Affirmative.” Erin clicked on briefly. “Sorry.”
Marcus tapped Becki on the back of her hand with the hankie he’d stuck in his pocket in case of this event. She clutched it and, to his amazement, smiled slightly. She wiped her mouth, grimacing the entire time.
When she clicked the intercom, the disgust in her voice was clear. “You got any water?”
He pointed beside her seat. She leaned over warily and snatched up a bottle, rinsing and spitting the first couple of mouthfuls into the bag before gingerly rolling the top and tucking it aside.
She caught his eye and shook her head in derision.
Marcus raised his brow. “Is this a good time to mention that I threw up on the feet of the first nurse who tried to sweet-talk me after my operation?”
She blew out a long breath, balancing herself. “Classy.”
“I thought so.” He indicated her bottle, and she obediently sipped at it. “Nearly there. You’re doing well.”
Becki met his gaze and forced a smile. “I know. Although I hope you brought more bags, because I have a feeling the trip home might not go so smoothly.”
“You can listen in on the crew line if you want to be distracted for a bit.”
Her eyes widened. “Right. And take the chance one of them is talking about food? No thanks.”
She’d caught his fingers in hers again, and he stroked her knuckles softly. “I didn’t even ask—I assume this is the first chopper trip since?”
“First flight, period.”
Anger and annoyance at himself slammed in. “What? I assumed you flew into Calgary.”
She smiled now, more real. “I’ve got my car, Marcus. How did you think it got to Banff, rock gnomes?”
“I didn’t think, period.” He kicked his own ass for that fact. “I’m sorry—”
“Prepare for landing,” Erin’s announcement cut in. “Marcus, all clear?”
He adjusted channels to speak to his pilot. “Clear. Soft as you can, or I’ll make you do bump and grinds all afternoon.”
“Got it, boss.”
Becki raised a brow, and he realized she’d been listening. He clicked back to channel two. “What?”
“You’re such an ass,” she teased.
“What can I say? They love me.”
She closed her eyes, blew out another breath, and hung on tight. Marcus watched with admiration. Whatever she was, courageous was certainly at the top of the list.
CHAPTER 23
Training was going well even though the entire time the thought hovered that there was still another flight to endure. Eventually Becki simply resigned herself to the fact that she would probably be ill on the return trip.
Still, preventive maintenance wasn’t a stupid idea. When she turned down the granola bar Tripp offered her, Marcus didn’t say a word.
He watched, though. His gaze fixed on her while she coaxed his team through the exercise, although skillwise there wasn’t much she was able to actually teach them.
She stepped beside Marcus and stared at the narrow ledge Alisha had managed to ascend to without any trouble. “They are good. This is definitely just a refresher for them, having me around.”
“I agree and yet, there’s something to be said for trying to impress a hero—they’re a lot sharper since you walked onto the scene. I don’t see them goofing off as much in training because you’re here.”
“I think they’re all a bunch of show-offs. They enjoy having an audience to perform for.” Becki pointed to the family that had stopped to picnic, observing the team train. Marcus casually slid his hand behind her back as she spoke, and she hesitated. “What are you doing?”
“Hmm?” Marcus glanced down. “What?”
“We’re training.” She caught his fingers and tugged until he let go. Then she ignored Marcus and shouted instructions to Tripp, focusing her attention back on the team.
His rumbling laugh snuck along her nerve endings like a low-grade electrical shock, tingling and making her that much more aware of him.
They stopped for a break, Devon and Tripp stretched out on the grass, Xavier and Alisha chatting with Anders as they rested in the shade. Erin sat in the open door of the cockpit reading a book, her dangling feet kicking like a kid.
Marcus stroked her arm and she instinctively jerked away, hiding the motion by grabbing her jacket and slipping it on.
He frowned. “What’s wrong
?”
“You keep touching me.”
“And that’s wrong?”
“It is while we’re training.” Becki pointed to the ropes that hung from the rock face. “I think the last thing today—”
“No, wait, back up.” Marcus twisted until he was directly between her and the cliffs she’d been trying to discuss. “I’m a little confused here. Is there a specific reason why I’m not allowed to touch you in public?”
“While we’re training,” she corrected. “You touched me in public a few times, I seem to recall.”
“But never while we were around my team.” His face darkened. “Are you trying to keep our relationship a secret from them?”
Becki paused. “Our relationship?”
“Isn’t that a typical guy line? Yes, our relationship. Are you planning to hide the fact that we’re seeing each other for some reason? Because if you are, you neglected to inform me. Also? Forget it.”
“But I’m not . . .”
She stopped and thought it through. She’d talked briefly to Erin about getting involved with Marcus, but was she trying to keep this under wraps? She didn’t think so, but her reactions had said that pretty firmly.
“I don’t know why I’m so antsy. Maybe it’s because I’m tired. I’m not trying to hide anything.” He lifted his brow, and she had to give him that. She was a basket case. “Maybe throwing up on top of too little sleep is making me stupid. I’m sorry if my actions came out wrong. I’m not ashamed to be seen with you. Far from it.”
What he chose to focus on was unexpected. “Why didn’t you sleep? More nightmares?”
Drat. “Yeah, but I’ll be okay. It’s bound to take a while—”
“Dammit, Becki.” Marcus lowered his voice, but his anger screamed out loud and clear. “Why the hell did you go back to the dorms last night? You should have known that might happen.”
“There was nothing you could do about it. If I’m going to have a nightmare, I’m going to have one, and it’s not like you can stop them.”
“I can be there to help you deal with them,” he snarled. He glared over the rock face, his shoulders tight under his T-shirt. “That’s it. When we get back to town we’re grabbing your things from the dorm and you’re moving in with me.”