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“Fuck!”
Finn’s curse echoes from the cockpit and I glance over to see Aidan and Cassian brace themselves and exchange a concerned look.
“Oh, Christ. Not again,” Aidan grumbles.
Cassian swears under his breath. “This’ll be our third crash together, Vain.”
“Goddammit, Ghost. Don’t jinx us,” Aidan snaps.
The entire situation would be comical if it wasn’t so fucking terrifying. I tighten my grip around Lake and feel her do the same. As we hold onto each other for dear life, another RPG soars past, clips something, and a horrible screeching sound fills the air. We tip precariously and then slip into an out of control spiral, plummeting so quickly that my stomach shoots straight up, threatening to get stuck in my throat.
Chapter Twenty: Lake
The moment we drop, I let out a sharp cry and bury my face against Dash’s chest.
“Hang on!” Finn yells, fighting with the controls, doing everything in his power to regain control of the helicopter and keep it from crashing. Somehow, his Night Stalker skills save the day and he pulls us out of the death spiral. I release a shaky breath as we soar upward.
Aidan and Cassian pump their fists and yell, “Hooyah!”
I decide that I really like the two former SEALs. I’m going to have Cameron make them some special socks.
My heart is still pounding hard and it feels like it’s going to burst from my chest. But then Dash’s mouth is on mine, kissing me, reminding me that we’re alive and that everything is going to be okay.
???
Twenty-four hours later, we’re lying in bed at Dash’s house. We just woke up after a long sleep and I’m looking around at the sparsely furnished bedroom with zero personal touches. We didn’t do much other than shower and fall into bed after Aidan and Cassian dropped us. I didn’t get a grand tour or anything yet, but the entire place, though very nice, looks practically unlived in. Turning onto my side, I prop my chin in my palm and send Dash a mischievous grin.
“Are you sure you live here?” I tease.
“Barely,” he acknowledges, the corner of his mouth edging up. “I’m a workaholic, remember? Sometimes, well most times, I just spend the night at the office.”
“It’s okay to work hard, but I’m thinking you might have something—someone maybe—to come home to now.”
“Maybe?” he echoes.
I reach over and toy with the bandage wrapped around his bruised ribs, making sure it’s tucked securely around his torso. “Definitely,” I say softly, silently inspecting each bruise, every single cut now scabbed over, but that still makes my heart ache. Almost losing this man was the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced. More so than the Russians, the helicopter almost crashing, even facing the firing squad. “How’re you feeling?”
“Well, we’re home and you’re in my bed, so I’d say I’m feeling pretty damn good.” He reaches out and caresses my cheek with the edge of his thumb. I hate how banged up his poor knuckles are and I slide closer, pressing a kiss against his warm palm. “Tell me how someone as amazing as you isn’t already married with ten kids.”
“Ten?” My eyes widen. “That seems like an awful lot.”
He chuckles, waiting for me to answer his question.
“Well, I’ve always had this uncanny ability to fall for unavailable men.”
He arches a dark brow. “Unavailable as in married?”
“One of them was,” I admit. “Though, at the time, I thought he was single. It used to make me sad, never being able to find anyone. Always falling for the wrong man. Spending far too much time and way too many tears wondering what was wrong with me. Why I was still a virgin at 32,” I add. Shyness overwhelms me and I begin to pull back.
Dash stops me from moving away, slides a hand around my neck and squeezes. “You’re not a virgin anymore,” he says huskily. “And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect.”
My stomach somersaults as he pulls me in for a hot kiss that reminds me just how much I love the way his mouth moves over mine. He’s used to being in control, calling the shots, bearing the burden. I love his alpha side. But at some point, I’d like to see him just live in the moment and give up some of that control.
I have a feeling he lost that control in Syria.
“What happened to you in Syria?” I ask quietly. His entire body stiffens and I lay a hand against his stubbled cheek. “You can tell me anything.”
“I know. It’s just…hard going back. Those aren’t moments I like re-living. It’s why I prefer being in charge…but I can’t control the nightmares. Sometimes, I’ll dream I’m back there and it feels so damn real.”
