AllFreeNovel
Share Us
PROLOGUE
Thirteen months ago…
“If I’d knownyou were flying us in, Booker, I would have let that tango shoot me in the ass, the other night.”
Captain Booker Hayes shook his head as the voice boomed behind him, the familiarity of it easing the restless twinge in his gut that had taken root the moment he’d been called in. The same sensation that had been saving his butt for the past fifteen years as part of the Flight Concepts Division, affectionately once called Seaspray. The guys who ferried Black Ops wherever they needed to go. Usually in the dead of night behind enemy lines, and often under fire, but… Booker tried to live by the old adage that if he wasn’t living on the edge, he was just taking up space.
A motto, his buddy, Wyatt Bixby, also subscribed to. Though, the man took it to the next level as a seasoned Navy SEAL, and the one person who was bound to be Booker’s pain in the ass this trip. Though, that was likely because he was also Booker’s best friend.
Booker glanced over his shoulder, exaggerating his sigh as he thumbed at Gunnar Nielsen walking past. “Thinking Gunn’s the real reason that didn’t happen.”
Wyatt placed his hand on his chest. “Ouch. That hurt, buddy.”
“And here I thought you Spec Op guys only bled on the inside.”
“Bullets sure. But words…” Wyatt coughed a few times to sell it. “They cut deep.”
“Pretty sure there’s a medic on board. I bet he’s got someHello KittyBand-Aids in his kit.”
“Could you get him? I’m bleeding out.”
“Jackass.” Booker gave Wyatt a shove. “What are you doing here? We were supposed to be going on vacation in…” He looked at his watch. “Two hours?”
“What the hell do you think I’m doing here? I got called in, the same as you.”
“You’ve been planning this trip for months. It’s bad enough I had to back out, but why didn’t you just tell HQ to screw off when they handed out this last-minute mission?”
“Going rogue is your move, buddy. Not mine.”
Booker scoffed. “When, exactly, have I gone rogue?”
Wyatt held up his hand. “Do you want them alphabetically or numerically? Because if it’s numerically, I’ll need my toes, too.”
Booker resisted the smile tugging at his lips. Not that he purposely disobeyed orders, but being a pilot, he was able to get “creative” at times — fake bursts of static or claim the transmission wasn’t received — when his superiors wanted him to bug out and leave his team behind. Not that he officiallyhada team, but he considered every soldier or agent he flew into a mission, his teammate. And he didn’t leave anyone behind.
“Christ, bend the rules a few times…”
“Two dozen. And that’s just the ones I know about.” He punched Booker in his arm. “Knowing those were to save me and my team makes it harder to call you out, though.”
“Not that hard. You just threatened to remove your boots so you could list them.”
Wyatt sighed, looking around the carrier. “Guess neither of us is going to get lucky on that beach.”
“Please, you weren’t going to get lucky unless Kirby decided to show up.”
“What the hell are you talking about? We’re just casual. You know, friends with benefits.”
“Right, and how many other girls have you beencasualwith since you started dating her?” He laughed at Wyatt’s glare. “Exactly. Not that it matters because your mouth does that little twitching thing whenever you say her name. Face it, Wyatt. You’ve got it bad for the girl.”
“I really don’t. Though, speaking of having it bad…” The bugger actually lifted his eyebrows a few times. “What happened the other night with your DEA lady, Agent Jensen? Because the way you two were tangled up on the dance floor…”
Special Agent Calliope Jensen or Callie to her friends. Talented. Fierce, and what would undoubtedly be a thorn in Booker’s side for the rest of his life. The one who got away before he’d even had a chance to figure out if there was more than searing heat between them. If she might have been that once-in-a-lifetime kind of spark people always raved about.
Soul mates.
Which was crazy. Sure, Booker had known her for over a year, and had flown her and her various Joint Special Operation teams around more times than he cared to count. With both of them stationed in Virginia, they’d also met for coffee or gone out in groups whenever possible. And he wouldn’t deny he’d worked hard to keep their relationship strictly professional — to look at her without wanting to sink his fingers into all that silky brown hair. Kiss those perfect full lips. See if she was just as feisty in bed as she was in the field. But he’d managed it — until the other night.
A few near-death experiences, and a couple too many tequilas, had resulted in some over-the-top slow dancing and the kind of kiss that shattered barriers. Demolished inhibitions. They’d managed to stumble back to her room — start getting serious — when she’d had to dart to the bathroom before slumping on the floor.
