Page 43 of Fixed Asset

After that, I hightailed it to my ride.

Chapter Twelve

“Your woman doesn’t like boats.” Fallon mumbled his understatement.

Twenty minutes into the four-hour ride across the Gulf, my girl had turned sheet white. To be fair, it had been windy and choppy and the old forty-one-foot Carver was over capacity, and twenty people in the below cabin had made the air stifling.

“It’s a good thing she decided on the Army,” Mason put in. “She’d never make a Special Boat Crew.”

“I wouldn’t tell her that. She might enlist in the Navy just to prove you wrong,” Pete joined in.

I leaned back in my chair and let that wash over me—the pride and respect in Pete’s tone hit deep. It was the same way Wilson had spoken about Catarina during our op in Vegas. Wherever the woman went, she garnered the respect of the people around her.

And I almost lost her.

Movement out the window caught my attention. Aiden was strolling across the grass, coming back up from the small, private beach behind the villa. Berta’s connections in Belize weren’t your everyday, run-of-the-mill do-gooders. They were rich and powerful men who believed in her cause and bankrolled her rescues. That meant within minutes of pulling into a private dock, the women and children had been whisked away to start their new lives.

Mission complete.

We’d debrief with Berta tomorrow, then be on our way home.

My home was San Diego. Catarina’s was Prescott. She’d accepted Pete’s job offer, but she didn’t need to live in California to spin up with us. She could stay in Arizona.

The thought of losing her again, even to distance, created a sharp pain. My hand lifted and rubbed the ache in my chest. I could move, rent my house out, go back to Arizona, a place I’d lived for a few years and swore when I left the heat I’d never go back.

But for Cat, I’d deal.

For her, I’d do anything as long as she was at my side.

On that thought, how long did a shower take?

Unreasonable fear licked up my back. She’d been gone too long. The house had been cleared. Ryan had walked the perimeter. Aiden was still outside patrolling the back for no reason other than he’d wanted fresh air. She was safe.

The bruise on her jaw came to mind. The way she’d stood over Pete, protecting him while he got his bearings. The fierce look on her face when I’d rushed into the house. No one was going to hurt Pete without getting through her first.

Danger.

She’d put herself in the line of fire—again.

That knot in my gut grew.

Before I realized what I was doing, I’d pushed back from the table.

Mason’s hand grabbed my forearm, and, with force, he yanked me back down.

“Unless you’re going up there for some sexy fun time, sit your ass down.”

“It’s been—”

“Not even five minutes,” he interrupted. “I hear women take longer than that just to loofah. So, again, unless you’re headed up there to offer to wash her back . . . stay.”

He said that last part like I was his dog and he was barking a command.

“What the hell is a loofah?” Ryan asked.

My gaze met Pete’s. There was a lot the man was silently communicating, but the takeaway was that Mason was right, I needed to stay.

“No clue. Never showered with a woman,” Mason casually threw out, like he hadn’t just divulged something personal.