Page 68 of Keeping a Warrior

Every family dealt with the goodbyes in their own way. Some wanted to linger over them, and others—like Sarah—didn’t want to dwell on them, preferring to rip the Band-Aid off all at once.

Rhys’s eyes sought out Devon, who was sitting in the shade nearby, her back against her ruck. A quiver went through him at the memory of the hot kiss they’d shared. She’d been so responsive, so eager, under his hands and mouth. Rhys could still feel the warm weight of her breast in his palm, a delicious, perfect handful, and so different from Lani’s lush curves.

He winced. It wasn’t fair to compare the two, but then again, he didn’t have much basis for comparison. He and Lani had fumbled through every first together at seventeen—first kiss, first touch, first sex. They’d endured the premature ejaculations, the embarrassment of bodily fluids and noises, everything that made sex such an intimate act.

Rhys had never imagined having it with anyone else, but suddenly, that was all he could think about. The night before, for the first time since he could remember, he’d fallen asleep wishing he was holding another woman in his arms.

The same woman now sitting and staring pensively at the plane. After a moment’s hesitation, Rhys gathered his courage and approached her, not sure of his welcome.

“Mind some company?”

She glanced up with what looked like a genuine smile. “Not at all.”

Rhys lowered himself to sitting and drew his knees up, ankles crossed, loosely draping his arms around them. “You okay?”

With a shrug, Devon mirrored his pose and nodded at the plane. “Just sitting here trying to analyze my feelings.”

“About going back?”

“Mmm.”

“I can imagine those are some pretty complicated feelings,” Rhys said gently.

“Yeah, well, I’m in a totally different place now, at least. Back then I was so idealistic, so trusting, so goddamn stupid.”

Rhys didn’t say anything, just let her talk.

“I thought that bad things couldn’t happen to me, or if they did, it’d be something heroic, you know? Not—” She shook her head. “And now all I want to do is reclaim that part of myself that someone else took from me.”

A lump rose into Rhys’s throat at the slight quaver in her voice.

“Well, this time around you have me,” he said fiercely. “You have the guys.” He nodded toward Matt and Shane, who were leaning against a nearby wall, arms crossed, each with one booted foot propped against it, heads close together.

Devon smiled when she saw them. “Think they worked everything out?”

Rhys was about to say he hoped so when Matt pushed off the wall. As he did, Shane snaked his hand behind him and gave his ass a firm pinch, followed by a discreet pat. Matt elbowed him, hard, but he was smiling when he sauntered away.

“Um, I think that’s a pretty safe bet.”

He and Devon snickered together, and she bumped him with her shoulder. “You’re right. It’s gonna be different this time, for lots of different reasons.” She bit her lip. “That’s why I insisted that I get this training time with the platoon, so they’d get to know me and I’d get to know them before we ever went downrange. It’s a different vibe all the way around—a good vibe, I think.”

Rhys didn’t remember much about that first platoon, the one where he’d met Devon, but what he did remember wasn’t all that positive. Most of the guys were squared away, but there’d been a couple of them who struck Rhys as arrogant and overly aggressive, who were really caught up in the way the media portrayed them after the bin Laden raid...as sexy badasses who could do no wrong.

“No matter what, I got your back, Lowe,” he said.

“Got yours, too, Halloran.” She gave a mock gasp. “Uh oh. I’m supposed to say, ‘Got your six,’ aren’t I?”

“Nah, this ain’t the movies.”

Devon sighed. “Got that right.”

“All right, people. Let’s load up!”

As they walked toward the plane, Rhys laughed to himself. This definitely wasn’t the movies. The guys didn’t look like a band of superheroes—instead they were a ragtag militia wearing mismatched uniforms, some sporting long hair and the scruffy beards Devon had suggested they grow in deference to the Afghan culture.

They had all the coolest toys, though, Rhys had to admit. The pallets strapped to the inside of the cabin were full of the most modern of tech gear and the best ammo government money could buy. Rhys had already supervised the loading of his medical supplies, and he tossed his ruck and sleeping bag on top of them.

Devon spread her woobie in the same place she had before, between two sets of pallets close to the wall.