She laughed. How could she not? “Oh my God, that’s great. Too funny. I never would have pegged you all for much of a sense of humor.”
“We can read and cipher too, ma’am.”
Preconceptions were rude, and unwise. She should remember that. For the first time she questioned how much of her perceptions of the military may have been skewed by her brother’s experience. “What happens if Bubbles wants to change his call sign?”
“For the most part names don’t change. Well, other than Fang, which stands for ‘Fuck, another new guy,’ who keeps that name until a new ‘Fang’ comes in. But back to your question, if someone like Bubbles insists on a new call sign, then we’ll throw a keg party and give him a new name.”
Didn’t sound like much fun for Jose. Then she caught a nuance in Wade’s words. “Give Bubbles a new name? He doesn’t get a say in it?” She held up a hand. “Forget I said that.”
“There are three rules to the call sign system that are universal in the different services and units. Number one, if you don’t have a call sign by the time you’re assigned to your rescue squadron, you will be given one by your pals. Rule number two, you almost certainly will not like it. And rule number three, the most important of all, if you piss and moan about it, we will promptly give you a new call sign that you will hate even more.”
“All righty then. I’m guessing Bubbles has learned to live with it.”
“How would we ever know?” His big shoulders shrugged. “He doesn’t talk.”
She looked at him, really looked at him, sprawled in the airplane seat in his uniform, but cracking jokes to calm her in spite of his obvious reservations about being here. Wade the warrior merged with Wade, the man who cradled her injured dog so carefully.
Wade, the tender lover.
She clasped her other hand on top of his, needing to deepen their connection. “You’re so different than I expected when I first saw you.”
“You’re not what I expected either from a tree-hugging granola girl.”
“Wade…” She leaned across, closer, until a simple jostle of the aircraft would have had her mouth against his. “You’re being so un-PC my teeth hurt.”
His mouth curved at her whispered taunt.
“I could distract you from your pain,” he offered confidently.
“I’ll bet you could.”
“And yet I can’t get you to answer the simplest of questions. How damn ironic is that?”
The sensual thread between them snapped. She saw in his chilly eyes that he hadn’t for a moment lost sight of his focus on finding out more about her life. She’d won her victory by getting on the plane.
Now she owed him the truth once they landed.
***
With the Cessna cruising on autopilot, Brett kept one eye on the darkening sky and the other on the strategically placed mirror that allowed him to monitor the two passengers behind him. He searched the horizon, clearing for other aircraft. With so many seaplanes zipping through the skies, it wasn’t unusual to skip filing a flight plan.
That made his trip easier to hide, but did require extra vigilance piloting. The landscape filled with shadows, the water, the valleys and canyons going pitch-black well ahead of dusk because of the mountains hiding the setting sun.
His eyes dropped back to the instrument panel for a quick check of altitude, air speed, heading. He was organized. In control.
Intercepting Sunny Foster’s email to her brother had been a piece of cake. And Sunny’s email to her brother sure as hell hadn’t gotten through. Setting up this flight was even easier since, like most Alaskans, he had his pilot’s license.
If only he’d gotten it before, he could have rushed Andrea to medical help faster. That crucial hour could have given her full use of her arms, or even more.
He thumbed the pain building between his eyebrows. In control. In control.
Blinking away the red haze, he scanned his instrument panel. He did need to adjust his plans now that Rocha was on board along with Sunny Foster. Disposing of one female would have kept things cleaner and easier. But he wasn’t the kind of person to let a setback derail him.
Already he’d put together pieces of a world-changing event—anonymously. He was smarter than either of those two sappy lovebirds behind him.
Definitely smarter than the pansy-ass deputy who’d choked when it mattered most.
How hard was it to walk up a couple of flights of stairs and pop two people in their sleep? It wasn’t as if the guy hadn’t killed before. Except now Rand Smith was dead, and that had brought a crap-ton of attention from law enforcement with military resources at their disposal.
Now he was stuck cleaning up the mess. Having to deal with Sunny’s bulky military pal too made things a little trickier, but he could handle it. He tucked the lone parachute farther out of sight, tucking away the memory of jumps with Andrea before her accident. Change of plans, now that he had two passengers instead of one. Originally, he’d intended to parachute from the plane, leaving it programmed to fly into the side of a mountain. With so many aircraft in the skies, it wasn’t unusual for one to crash.
End of Sunny.
Enough time bought to complete his week’s work.
Mission accomplished.
But now he had to adjust that plan. He would go ahead and land on the island as Sunny and her pal expected. They could head off for their trek up the mountain.
Wade glanced at them in the mirror, their heads tucked together so obliviously. He had plenty of connections now in the spies he’d helped place. He would simply have one of his people stage an accident for Sunny and Wade later, on their way up the mountain.
The power plant explosion would go off on schedule—and his most high value terrorist yet would slip into the U.S. with enough of a payoff for him to slip the other way, right out of the country and into a life of luxury, tucked away in Europe.
Again, he checked the altitude, air speed, heading. And ahead of him, miles and miles of nothing. No cities. No lights. So few people lived out here, he could get away with anything.
He was in control. The beauty of smuggling so many terrorists into the country? He had untraceable people to call on at the drop of a hat. He preferred to steer clear of the fanatics, but at least they could be counted on to plow through to the end.
Even Sunny’s new special ops boyfriend wouldn’t stand a chance against the unlimited resources at Brett’s disposal.
***
Misty stifled a yawn behind her hand, the fading sun and warmth of the truck’s heater making her drowsy.
She couldn’t believe she was sitting in the front seat with Flynn again. It had been so long. Everything felt familiar in some ways. And in others? The differences were painfully apparent.
He passed the thermos of coffee over. “Need some caffeine?”
“Thanks, I think I do.” She took the metal cylinder, twisted off the cap, and poured herself half a cup. The rich java scent drifted up as she blew into the still-steaming drink. As she pursed her lips to blow again, she felt the weight of Flynn’s stare.
She looked over quickly. “Keep your eyes on the road, Flynn.”
“I want you to see what I’m saying.”
“You assume I want to know,” she snapped back.
“Then why aren’t you looking away?”
Oh crap. She pulled her gaze off the potency of his pale blue attention. She gulped down her coffee and struggled not to wince as it scalded her tongue.
Holding a conversation in the truck had been difficult all afternoon. Signing was tough one-handed, and even when he tried to spell out words, he kept having to reach for the wheel. Maybe if they had practice communicating, time to be comfortable with each other. He couldn’t turn fully toward her except when he stopped—not unless they wanted to risk sliding off the icy road and off a cliff drop. The dangerous curves in the roads and paths were all the more apparent in this nearly treeless landscape. Just ice and craggy angles.
Stark. Like her life.
<
br /> Not for the first time, she wondered what her world would have been like if he hadn’t cheated—or if she’d forgiven him—even if she’d still lost her hearing. They would have settled into their own routine, their own unspoken ways of communicating. She likely would simply have slid over to the middle of the seat. She would have leaned against him, soaking up her last view of the Aleutian volcanic mountain where she’d lived for the past fifteen years.
She would miss the summer thaw, the kayaking, even walking across glaciers. Sunny had always reminisced about California vacations and the openness of their Iowa home. Their home before this isolation.
But Misty? The silence here had a way of speaking, like a hum from the earth’s core.
The movement of the snow across the road filled her with the haunting echoes of a howling wind.
Water trickling down a jagged rock whispered through her memory of the gushes beneath that would foam into a hot springs retreat.
The sun sank lower and she realized daylight was running out. Traveling this road in the dark and the snow would be dangerous. There weren’t exactly Holiday Inns on every corner. God, it had been so long since that California family vacation she only dimly remembered. Once her parents had decided to leave Iowa and move to Alaska, they used a camper the whole way up the Alcan Highway.
Plane tickets would have left a paper trail to her brother.
She’d thought about how to handle all day in the truck, easy enough since they’d both opted not to converse. But she hadn’t considered how they would spend the night.
“Flynn?” she said, pulling her eyes off the darkening landscape.
He slowed the truck to a stop, then slid it into park. He turned the power of his vibrant blue eyes her way. “Yes? Is there a problem? Do you want to turn back?”
Yes and no. She wanted everything.
“Where are we stopping for the night?” Why hadn’t she thought to ask earlier? Maybe she’d been afraid to know, afraid she wouldn’t be brave enough to face a night alone in a tent with Flynn.
“I had hoped to make it to an actual village, but it’s been slow going with the snow earlier.” He cranked open his thermos of coffee and took a swig. “I did prepare contingencies other than camping out. I went on the Internet before we left and found a bed-and-breakfast.”
“A bed-and-breakfast? Out here?” Her mind filled with images of the old Victorian homes she’d seen in books. That didn’t seem possible or probable out here.
“It didn’t look like much in the pictures, which means it’s probably worse in reality. But we’ll have a place to sleep for the night before we head out in the morning.”
He put the truck back in gear, tires crunching along the icy road. Tomorrow, she would tell him good-bye forever.
But first, she had to make it through the night with the only man she’d ever loved.
Chapter 12
The sun was setting faster than Wade’s feet could carry him from the tiny landing strip to the lodge across the street. Salty wind tore in off the rural harbor. He hitched his backpack more securely over his shoulders, Sunny keeping pace beside him. But then she always did.
The woman was unstoppable. He admired the hell out of her, would give just about anything for a shot at a real relationship with her. But he didn’t have a clue how that was going to happen while she protected a deserter brother.
There were a lot of things in life he could overlook or learn to live with. That was not one of them. He’d been too ingrained in military culture with his parents for too long to look the other way when it came to her brother.
So now he knew what Sunny had known all along. Their time together was limited, very limited.
In the morning, they would launch the final leg of their journey to her village. They’d reserved two snowmobile rentals to be picked up at sunrise tomorrow. For tonight, they were staying at the lodge perched on the shore. He waited for a moose to clear the road before continuing toward the one-story building of weather-worn wood.
Twice he’d flown rescue missions out here, once for stranded fishermen, and another time to save capsized kayakers. The water was so fucking cold he could have sworn his chestnuts retreated behind his lungs for warmth for at least a week.
He believed in the mission with every cell in his body, just as both his parents had been willing to give all for country. He squeezed his eyes closed against the headache throbbing at the thought of his mother, once every bit as take-charge as Sunny, whose battles now included struggling for words and learning to feed herself.
Beside him, Sunny gasped. He looked at her quickly, tracking her gaze to a couple of hunters walking across the street, their wolf-hybrid dog loping in step.
Sunny swiped her wrist under her eyes, and he followed her train of thought in a flash.
His hand fell to the back of her neck. “We can call McCabe and check on Chewie after we eat. So far I still have bars on my cell phone.”
She smiled up at him as she stepped into the lodge lobby. “Thanks. I would really appreciate that.”
“Before you go all mushy on me”—he closed the door behind her, sealing the wind away from the warmth of the wood-burning stove—“I’m also calling in to see how the investigation is going.”
He ushered her through the lobby, which doubled as a dining area, tables packed with fisherman tugging off black stocking hats. Walls were crammed with mounted local catches. A stuffed brown bear loomed on its hind legs in a corner.
Five minutes later, he signed the check-in book. Wade collected the key. Neither of them had questioned staying together. The place only had a half dozen rooms, but after this morning’s close call he wasn’t letting her out of his sight.
Waiting beside him, she hooked her thumbs on her backpack straps. “A lot can change in a couple of hours.” She chewed her bottom lip with uncharacteristic nervousness. “After you make your call, there are things I should tell you.”
Yeah, he knew that too well.
This was it. When he had the conversation he knew needed to happen, things between them would change. Call him selfish, but he wanted this chance to be with her.
Once they crossed that line, saying certain things out loud, things would change irrevocably between them. “Sure, but first, I have something to say to you.”
She stepped into the room, easing her backpack onto a split-log bench. “What?”
He carefully placed his own pack beside hers before pivoting back to face her.
“This.” He closed the thick oak door and pressed her to the panel in one smooth move.
Hands bracketing her face, he kissed her. Hard and fast and with all the frustrated energy pent up from a day full of insane twists. They should have been lounging in bed for a lazy week off. He would have used the time wisely to learn every inch of her creamy flesh, to discover the precise location of every erogenous zone.
Instead she’d spent half her day identifying grisly crime scene photos and he was stuck finding out her secrets from OSI investigators. Whatever happened to exchanging phone numbers and astrological signs over drinks?
The day rolled over him. The insanity outside his apartment that morning. How close a crazed killer had been lurking, targeting Sunny. How close Sunny had come to walking away from him.
Tomorrow loomed with a big dark shadow of the unknown. But right here, right now, he had Sunny in his arms.
Her tongue searched his mouth every bit as boldly and thoroughly as he delved into hers. She tunneled her hand between them and unzipped his parka and shoved it from his shoulders and to the floor. A damn good idea. He set to work on her jacket until finally they could press chest to chest. The fullness of her breasts flattened against him, her curves familiar, enticing, and still entirely too covered up.
Wind howled beyond the curtains, bedside lamps flickering in response, bringing a momentary blink of reason.
He resisted the urge to tear every inch of clothes from her body. “We should slow down.”
�
�Why?” she gasped, fumbling down the buttons on his uniform.
He covered her hands with his. “Because I don’t want to be an insensitive jackass by taking you against this door.”
“What if I like this door?” She nipped his bottom lip.
Fair enough. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
Finesse fell away faster than the rest of their clothes until they stood skin to skin, his hard-on pressing against the warmth of her stomach. He throbbed with restraint, aching to feel her all around him.
He dipped to snag his wallet from his pants and filched a condom. Sunny snatched it from his palm and sheathed him quickly, efficiently, her haste speaking loud and clear of her own impatience.
He thrust into her, the clamp of her body threatening to send him over the edge before he even really got started. His teeth clenched, hard. She kissed along his jaw, rocking her hips in encouragement as she whispered her need against his ear.
The pounding urge to come damn near deafened him, his pulse hammered so loudly in his ears. No doubt, this was going to be over quick, so he needed to work on making it happen fast for her too.
She writhed against him, scoring his shoulders with her close-cut fingernails, her motions jerky and a little frantic. “Quit thinking and start moving. I need… I want… Now…”
Didn’t have to tell him twice.
Tucking an arm under the perfect curve of her bottom, he angled her closer, thrust deeper, faster, driving them both closer and closer until… her shout of completion mingled with his, echoing around the small room along with the crackle of the wood-burning stove, the slap of the tide against icy chunks just beyond their window.
His forehead thunked to rest against the door as he panted and prayed he wouldn’t drop her. His legs weren’t any steadier than his heart rate. When he could trust his arms to work properly again, he scooped her up and carried her to the split-log bed, caribou antlers over the headboard. She reached a limp hand down to sweep aside the patchwork quilt before he placed her in the middle of the mattress and slid in after her.
Now he just needed to wait for her to go to sleep so he could make his call.
Cover Me Page 16