Jolie smiled, but fear lingered in her blood. Her shoulder throbbed. There were still too many unanswered questions—too many dangers lurking in the shadows beyond these walls.
But with Archer only steps away and her sister in her ear, Jolie felt the fear begin to loosen a bit.
She was safe.
And she was no longer on the outside—she was surrounded by people who cared.
SEVENTEEN
Archer woke with Jolie beside him and forgot—for one quiet minute—that the world still demanded things from them.
She slept curled on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, dark lashes resting against skin still pale from the drugs and shock. Rivers had patched her shoulder and ordered rest, and for once Jolie had obeyed without argument.
In sleep, she looked softer than the woman who mouthed off to a kidnapper, toppled a chair to avoid a bullet and fit into a room of hardened SEALs.
He stared at her long enough to make his chest ache. Long enough for the thought to take shape before he could stop it.
Keep her here, safe inside the base.
He wanted to keep her here for himself, where he could hear her laugh trickling through the halls, making the base so much warmer. Making his life so much fuller.
Could he have that?
Could he and Jolie build something here the way Ellory had with Angelo Ash? Could a woman exist alongside him, when his life was built on danger and not be consumed by it?
As he stared down at the beautiful woman who’d stolen his heart, he wanted the answer. But it would have to wait. His phone vibrated with the order to report to the war room and bring Jolie with him.
After helping her dress, holding out an oversized shirt she’d found in the box so she could slip her injured arm into it, he kissed the crinkle in her brow as he buttoned her into it.
“I can tell Cannon you’re not feeling up to a morning meeting.”
She settled a hand on his chest. “I’m okay. Maybe he has new developments to share.”
They walked into the war room and took seats with the rest of the team. A box of doughnuts sat in the middle of the table along with a pot of fresh coffee and some foam cups.
Jolie eyed the box. “Where did you get doughnuts? I didn’t see those in the pantry.”
Younger shot her a crooked grin. “I have connections.”
She reached for the box, dragging it close enough to snag a frosted one. “You have super-secret doughnut dealers?”
The tension in the room eased by a degree, men grinning into coffee they’d been drinking like medicine moments earlier.
He bobbed his head. “That’s right.”
In that moment, Archer’s chest couldn’t feel fuller. Jolie didn’t only seem to belong with him—she belonged with all of them.
O drew attention by standing with a tablet in hand. “Update from the tunnel search. Dogs are stumped. They found discarded gloves and the thermal blanket.”
Archer pushed out a breath. “I thought he used the thermal blanket to muddy his heat signature long enough to get away.”
Jolie’s hand trembled as she attempted to pour coffee, and Archer reached to take it. Their fingers brushed, and hers were cold.
Cannon took note of her response to the topic but continued. “The blanket was dumped near the opening of one mine. Several shafts intersect there, and the dogs lost the scent trail.”
Rome muttered a curse.
Townie wagged his head. “He planned for escape.”
