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Scarborough grinned and curled his free arm. “You only wish you had these guns, Kaholo.”
Tai snorted. “Same old Fenn. All show and no ammo.”
The familiar teasing hit Bridger harder than he wanted to admit, but movement behind the plane’s portholes drew his attention before he could get too far down memory lane.
Tai squinted at Kate. “You brought passengers?”
“Reinforcements,” she corrected.
A blonde figure in a neon pink skirt and a black leather jacket appeared in the doorway. “Hey, everybody!” Paige, their cyber-security whiz waved energetically.
Another figure headed toward the exit. Bridger rocked back on his heels. Mason Ortiz. The best personal defense expert he knew. Armed or unarmed, the man was deadly.
Tai clapped his hands. “Wow. This is special.”
“I know you didn’t need the extra manpower, but those two were bored.” Kate pointed at her passengers.
Bridger stared. “What are you all doing here?” he asked when they approached.
“Nice,” Tai muttered sarcastically.
Mason smacked him in the stomach hard enough to make him groan. “Good to see you too, Champ.” He hitched his duffle bag back up on his shoulder and spun around, taking in the airfield and the hangar, its bay doors yawning open.
Paige brushed straight past him and Mason. “He heard we were getting the band back together,” she announced before racing over to hug Tai.
Bridger knew the instant Mason spotted Jason’s old plane. Mason wasn’t a pilot himself, but the man lived and breathed machinery. Give him a piece of string and some chewing gum and he could fix anything.
Mason straightened like a birddog on a scent, “Is that a—?”
“P51,” Tai finished for him. “Yup.”
“Sweet.” The guy headed for the hangar. “I’m in,” he said over his shoulder, “but only for the one gig.”
Bridger winced. “We’re not—”
Tai smacked him hard. “It’s a possibility,” he assured Jane.
Bridger scowled. “Is not.”
Tai put a hand to his face shielding his mouth from Bridger. “Is, too,” he assured her. “Don’t mind him. He’s crabby when he misses his nap.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Bridger said.
Tai winked. “He always says that.”
Jane watched the crew file into the hangar, a look of wonder on her face. “So these are Jason’s teammates?”
“Yup.”
Kate shoved her overnight bag into Fenn’s arms hard enough to send him toppling sideways and peeled away from the group, heading straight for the tidy galley in the back of the building. Fenn followed, juggling her bag in his arms like an oversized baby.
“How long have Kate and Fenn been a couple?” she asked.
Bridger choked. Cool, precise Hackett and arrogant, bad boy Scarborough? No. Way.
He flicked Tai a look, but the big man was watching Kate and Fenn, a look of dawning comprehension on his face.
“They’re not a couple,” Bridger insisted. “They’re more liable to kill each other than go on a date.”
