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“Because he reeks of spec ops and has that calm, cool control about him at all times. Like nothing can ruffle the dude’s feathers,” Ryland answered.
“It’s my job to stay calm, especially when I’m leading my team,” Braxton stated. “And you can call me Brax.”
With all of that intel now on the table, Ryland felt a little better. In order for this plan to work, he had to trust every one of them with his life. And now Harper’s, too.
“No offense, Rip, but the one person I had trouble trusting was your father,” Inda commented. “And you do realize you’re about to pull the same stunt he did. We all are.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t want to get into that part of the plan further because he’d already decided he was going to send Addie an encrypted message that only she would understand, assuring her he was fine. There was no way he would let her mourn for him when he was still alive. He wasn’t his father. “What triggered your mistrust?”
Ryland met Inda’s caramel eyes, curious. Because he felt the same damn way.
“It all seemed a little too convenient. Him warning you and still being alive. I don’t know. I got weird vibes.”
Yeah, same.
“Let’s gear up,” Pharaoh ordered, reminding his team they were about to jump out of an airplane.
As the others began to prepare for the jump, Ryland reached around and, for the first time in ten years, removed the silver chain hanging around his neck. Staring down at his father’s cross in his palm, an array of emotions battered through him. But he didn’t have time to think about that right now. He set it down on the seat, almost reverently, and a wave of sadness washed over him. Now the cross would be nothing more than evidence recovered. A charred reminder of what could’ve been when it came to the relationship he and his father had.
“You okay?” Harper asked softly.
“I will be,” he said and forced a smile. “What about you, sweetheart? Ready to jump?”
Harper sucked in a deep breath and held out her hand. “Does this answer your question?”
It was shaking. Ryland grabbed it and squeezed. “I’ve got you. Always.”
“You’re sure we can trust your pilot?” Nik asked, glancing toward the cockpit.
“No doubt about it,” Braxton answered. “Hunter is a close friend and saved my ass more than once on a mission.”
Ryland hadn’t met their pilot yet, but if Braxton trusted him, he knew the pilot was damn good.
As they began to check their chutes and prepare for the jump, Ryland pressed a kiss to Harper’s forehead. “I’m sorry to be taking you away from home—”
“You’re my home now, Ryland.” Harper gave him a brave smile. But when her gaze moved over to the rest of the team, preparing for the skydive, her smile wavered.
Her nerves were increasing, so he kissed her again, this time on the lips, slowly and thoroughly. A couple of cat calls filled the air, but he ignored them. He wanted to help her relax and while he’d jumped out of a plane hundreds of times, this was Harper’s first jump.
“You’re going to be in my arms the entire way down, okay?”
His wife gave another brave nod and he helped her step into the harness. After checking, double-checking and triple-checking all the buckles, he slipped his equipment on and connected them together. A quick glance down at his watch told him it was go-time.
They all lined up near the door, waiting for the pilot to join them.
Beside them, Nik fidgeted with a strap, shifting his weight from one booted foot to the other. “It’s been a while,” he murmured around the unlit cigarette clamped between his teeth. It was the first time Ryland had ever seen the former Russian spy look nervous.
“Just like riding a bike,” Ryland said and slapped his back.
The cockpit door swung open and a tall, slim woman with reddish-brown hair swept back in a low ponytail walked out. “Let’s jump,” she said, sliding her parachute on.
“Everyone, this is Hunter ‘Pyro’ McGrath,” Braxton said. “A former Navy fighter pilot.”
“Hooyah!” both Ryland and Zane called out.
“Hooyah!” Hunter called back.
“Pyro?” Nik asked, cocking a dark brow.
