by Radclyffe
We won’t have to worry about flights if we leave tomorrow.”
“You’re sure? I mean, it’s our honeymoon, sort of.”
“We can have a sort of honeymoon in DC. I’m not sleeping at the
White House, though.”
“Oh, really? And I so love being there with the press corps, and
the valets, and the officers in the halls.”
Cam grasped Blair’s hand and resumed walking. “I’m sorry, baby.
There are some things I just can’t give you.”
Laughing, Blair fell into step. “That’s okay, darling. I still adore
you.”
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chapter seventeen
Cord hadn’t been kidding when she’d said there would be
currents. Wes was a strong swimmer, but in a wetsuit and
gear, pulling an inert body through the water against the swirling tides
that wanted to drag her under took all her strength and concentration.
The instructor assigned to play POTUS wasn’t as big as Gary, but he
was heavy. The third time she pulled him from beneath the surface,
hooked an arm around his shoulder and over his chest, and kept him
afloat while a Coast Guard helicopter dropped a rescue basket, her arms
and legs were trembling and her heart hammered in her ears. Evyn
circled in a dinghy nearby, waiting to assist in the transfer to the lift
basket. When they got the patient secured, the helicopter lifted off, the
churning wash from its rotors blasting her with icy froth. After the first
time she’d gotten a faceful and nearly choked up a lung, she’d learned
to turn her head away and keep her mouth closed. Wearily, she fought
the water’s relentless pull, threatening to carry her out to sea.
“How you doing?” Evyn called.
“Great!” She caught a wave wrong and coughed out a mouthful
of brine.
“Head in. Take a break.”
“Roger.” Wes stroked toward shore while Evyn docked the dinghy
on Cord’s boat. When she made it in close enough, she stood up and
waited for the rest of the team, letting the blue-green ocean swirl around
her calves. Despite the painful trembling in her shoulders and thighs,
she felt great. She’d managed to keep her patient alive, gotten him
transferred to the medevac chopper, and avoided drowning. Not once
but three times. She considered that a damn good day.
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“Looked pretty good out there.” Evyn jumped out of the boat
into the surf beside her. She unzipped the neck of the wetsuit, and Wes
caught a glimpse of smooth pale skin framed between her breasts.
“I feel like I’ve just run twenty miles with a full pack.”
“Tough work. You did a lot better than a lot of first-timers.”
“Thanks.” Wes looked around at the small ORS building and the
mostly empty beach. Gary stood talking to Cord and Jeff, the other
rescue instructor, at the boat dock. “Anywhere nearby we can grab
lunch? I’m buying. Gary and the others too.”
“Jeff and Gary played football together in college,” Evyn said, “so
Gary will probably hang here with Cord and Jeff.”
“Just you, then.” When Evyn hesitated, Wes wondered if she’d
broken yet another rule of training no one had bothered to inform her
about.“I know a little taco place not far from here,” Evyn finally said.
“Mexican okay with you?”
“Sounds great.”
“Let’s change, then, and get out of here. We’ll need to be back at
fourteen hundred for open-water rescue.”
Wes sighed. “I’m going to need a lot of tacos.”
v
“‘One’ does not qualify as ‘a lot of’ tacos,” Evyn said as Wes
pushed her plate aside. They’d both dug in when lunch arrived and
hadn’t paused for more than casual remarks while devouring the very
good food.
“If I have to be back in the water,” Wes said, sipping iced tea, “I
don’t want to cramp.”
“We’ll have at least an hour until we get everything loaded up and
out to the rendezvous point.” The rest of the day ought to be a little
easier than the morning, and so far Wes was acing the training. Not
that Evyn was surprised. Wes was solid—uncomplaining, focused, fit.
She’d handled the recovery drills with calm competence, the way she
seemed to do everything. “How are you feeling?”
“Not bad for a desk jockey.”
Recalling her not-so-subtle put-down of Wes’s teaching creds,
Evyn managed not to blush. She really hadn’t made a very good first
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impression, not that she usually cared. With Wes, she did—but she
couldn’t very well apologize for speaking her mind. “Okay, so maybe I
was wrong about you instructor types.”
“The day isn’t over,” Wes said lightly. “Are you and Gary the only
water-certified agents on the detail?”
“No. When POTUS is in or on the water, two water-certified
agents are with him at all times. The medical staff usually remains on
shore, available by radio.”
“I prefer to be on the water—close by him,” Wes said. “Being on
shore is too far away.”
Evyn nodded. “I agree. When possible, we’ll set you up in the
patrol boat.”
“Good enough. What about general security?”
“We clear the airspace, the surrounding water, and the shore.”
“And transport?”
“Usually Coast Guard, but again, depends on where we are and
the location of the closest medical facilities.”
Wes’s phone buzzed and Wes slid it from her pocket to check the
readout. She shook her head. “Sorry. My mother.”
Evyn laughed. “Go ahead. I’ll get the bill.”
“I’ll just tell her I’ll catch her later.” Wes tapped the screen to take
the call. “Mom, I’m at work. I’ll call you as soon as I can, probably
tom—what? No, I’m fine. Denny exaggerates, you know that. Really.
Nothing. I’ll call you. I love you. I’ve got to go. ’Bye.”
Color rose in Wes’s face and Evyn hid her smile. The calm,
unflappable doctor was embarrassed. “Mothers. They never get that we
aren’t always available to talk when we’re working.”
“Oh, she gets it. She just thinks whatever she has on her mind is
more important.”
Evyn laughed. “Isn’t it?”
“Of course.” Wes took the bill the waitress had left on the table
stood and they walked to the cashier.
“Does she know about your new post?”
“Some—I didn’t really have time to discuss it with her.”
“Everything okay?” Evyn asked as casually as she could. She
couldn’t pretend she hadn’t overheard the conversation, and while it
was none of her business, she cared if Wes was having a problem. After
all, personal issues affected performance, and Wes was not only a key
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part of the team now, it was her job to see she settled in smoothly. She
might tell herself that, if she wanted to blow smoke in her own face.
She cared if Wes had a problem because she didn’t like the idea of
Wes
being unhappy. If Wes was unhappy, it most likely had something to do
with the new job, and she was a big part of that new job.
“She’s doing the mother thing.”
“You mean the part where they try to get you to share? And as
soon as you do they tell you all the ways you screwed up?”
“My mother usually doesn’t pry,” Wes held the door open while
Evyn went through, “but my sister ratted me out. My fault—I forgot
what a little tattletale she was when she was younger.”
“You’ve got three, right? You’re in the middle?”
“I’m in the upper middle—one older, two younger. Denise—
Denny—she’s the baby.”
Evyn rounded to the driver’s side of the Explorer and waited while
Wes climbed in. “You all must be pretty close in age—didn’t you say
your father—sorry, never mind.”
“My father died when I was six. There’s about a year and a half to
two years between the four of us.”
“So what did your sister know that she immediately told your
mother?” The street in front of the cantina was clear and Evyn pulled
out. “Nothing. Not really. I just happened to talk to her in the middle
of the night—she’s a nurse in Philadelphia. I maybe mentioned I was
having trouble sleeping, but not because of any problem. Just”—Wes
shrugged—“a lot of changes. That’s all.”
Evyn glanced at her, then back at the road. Wes looked a little
tired, but they’d been hitting the exercises hard for hours. She was
obviously in great physical shape—she looked as good in a wetsuit as
she did in the jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt she’d walked out wearing
that morning. Rangy and lean and strong. Evyn put that image aside.
If Wes was having trouble adjusting, she ought to know. She wanted to
know. She wondered if she was part of why Wes wasn’t sleeping, and
the idea didn’t sit well. “This isn’t what you expected, is it?”
“I had no idea what to expect.”
“Very politic of you.”
Evyn shot her another look and their eyes met. Wes had gorgeous
eyes—the kind of crystal green that reminded her of summers in the
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park, of fresh-cut grass, of carefree pleasures. She had to drag herself
away from her eyes and the memory of freer, simpler times. She stared
at the road. “I don’t know why it is, but every time we’re together, we
end up talking about stuff I never talk about with anyone else.”
“Like what?” Wes said gently.
“Like…personal things. I know more about you and your family
right now than I know about Gary, and he and I have been partners on
and off for a couple of years.”
“I know what you mean,” Wes said.
“Got an explanation?” Evyn asked half playfully, but her heart
stuttered, waiting for the answer. She hadn’t meant to voice that crazy
feeling of being totally exposed whenever she was alone with Wes and
expected Wes to understand even less. Now she wasn’t sure what she
wanted to hear.
“Not yet,” Wes said softly.
A wave of disappointment heavily laced with relief washed over
her. Refocusing the conversation on something safe, she said, “So?
What’s keeping you up at night?”
Wes laughed. “You’re as bad as my sisters.”
“Wait till you get to know me better.”
Wes laughed again. “Nothing, really. Just adjustment. I’m fine.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that. You wouldn’t be where you are if little things
like having a new command dropped on you, transferring overnight to
a new post, being put through an accelerated version of boot camp, and
being charged with safeguarding POTUS threw you off.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” Wes said lightly, “I guess I am
doing amazingly well.”
“We’ll see, Superdoc.” Evyn pulled the rented Jeep into the small
lot beside the rescue station and cut the engine. She turned in her seat
to face Wes. “If there’s something you want to talk about, I’m a pretty
good listener.”
“You are. You make it easy to talk.”
The wind had picked up, and whitecaps raced across the water.
Wes was studying her, in that completely focused way she had, and the
attention was as exciting as the touch had been. She’d never been so
aware of being alone with a woman in her life. They’d barely touched,
and that had been totally innocent, but her blood sang with anticipation.
She didn’t get this keyed up with a woman she was about to sleep with.
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Her system was primed with expectation for more than a touch, and
nothing could be less likely to happen. “I hear a but coming.”
A wry smile played over Wes’s face. “Unfortunately, I think you’d
probably end up ratting me out like Denny. Only not to my mother.”
Evyn wanted to deny that, but she couldn’t. “If I thought something
would affect your performance, then I might have to.”
“I’d expect you to,” Wes said. “And before we go any further, I
can tell you there’s nothing about this situation that bothers me. I’m
fine.”“I wasn’t looking for ammunition against you, Wes.” Evyn pulled
herself back from a dangerous precipice. She’d crossed one of her own
boundaries without even realizing it. Wes blurred all the lines for her
between personal and professional with frightening ease, and that just
couldn’t happen. “We both have jobs to do.”
“I know,” Wes said. “And since we do, I appreciate the offer to
talk, but I think we’ll both do our jobs a lot better if we don’t complicate
things.”
Wes was right and only repeating her own mantra—never get
personally involved with someone at work. Evyn pushed open her door
and a biting wind rushed in. “We’re on exactly the same page.”
v
The patrol boat rocked on the swell as the winds gathered force.
The blue sky had given way to gray thunderclouds above churning
seas. “We’ve got time for one run,” Cord called from the wheel, “until
things get too rough out here.”
Evyn turned to Wes, who wore civilian clothes as she would on a
regular detail. She and Gary were in wetsuits. “POTUS has a sailboat,
and the maritime weather reports aren’t always accurate. He could be
caught out in this kind of blow. But this could get dicey.”
“Wouldn’t do much good to only train on calm seas,” Wes shouted,
the wind ruffling her hair. “Let’s do it.”
Evyn waved to Cord. “Go ahead.”
Cord threw a water-rescue mannequin into the water and yelled,
“Man overboard.”
Evyn and Gary clambered onto the bulwark and dove into the
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ocean. Even in the wetsuit, the first shock of frigid water on Evyn’s
face and exposed hands and feet made her stomach tighten. She cut
through the sea toward the bobbing figure, fighting the surging tides and
buffeting waves. The figure alternately rode the swells and disappeared
beneath th
e troughs. Were this the real deal, they’d only have a minute
or two to reach the president, less if he went off the boat as a result of
some kind of injury. The water temperature, the tide, and the rough
surf created a swiftly lethal combination. She and Gary reached the
mannequin at the same time, and she grabbed it in a rescue carry and
started back toward the boat. Gary kept pace beside her, ready to take
over and spell her if she grew too tired fighting the currents and the cold.
When they reached the side of the patrol boat, Wes and Cord lowered
a litter over the side, and she and Gary secured the figure inside. Gary
tugged on the line to signal they were ready, and the litter swung away
and up. Evyn scrambled up the ladder with Gary right behind. By the
time they reached the deck, Wes was already in full resuscitation mode,
kneeling on the soaked surface, rapidly running through the emergency
assessment protocol, the field-and-trauma bag beside her, Cord acting
as her first assistant.
Jeff tossed Evyn a towel, and she rubbed water from her hair,
watching Wes work. Every time she’d seen Wes in action, she’d been
struck by the way Wes gave everything her full attention, her all, a
hundred percent of the time. Evyn spent her days with powerful people,
and she wasn’t easily impressed, but that kind of fierce focus was
incredibly exciting to watch. Wes issued orders without looking up from
her patient, calm, sure, utterly in command. Wes personalized power in
a way she’d never experienced before, and watching her, Evyn couldn’t
help but imagine what that kind of potent focus would feel like turned
on her in an intimate moment. Her skin beneath the tight neoprene suit
pebbled with excitement, and heat bloomed in the pit of her stomach.
She’d rarely been the recipient of physical attention even half as forceful
and was always content to take the lead in bed. Satisfying a woman was
incredibly gratifying, and she hadn’t been looking for more. A calm and
quiet orgasm was just fine—only when she imagined being with Wes
Masters, there was nothing calm or quiet about it. She felt the weight of
Wes’s body pinning her down, Wes’s hands exploring her—not asking
permission, her consent readily given. Her blood raced with the urge to
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open, to be known, to surrender. Nothing familiar about any of it, but