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She looked up at him sharply. “Yeah, why?”
“Just thought you looked a little off in there.” He shrugged. “Must have been imagining things. I’ll be in the planning room making a call to the forensic artist. Meet me there in ten.”
“Will do.” She veered off to her own quarters. She had a whole ten minutes to get her crap together. She didn’t feelthatdifferently. Besides sensitive breasts and some nausea, she was fine.
But she wasn’t totally herself, which everyone was picking up on. Her steps slowed. HowdidSlade make the connection that she was pregnant? Was there a big neon Baby on Board sign on her back?
She hadn’t even asked Slade how he came to that conclusion—she just jumped his hot body and shamelessly let him give her three orgasms.
Three amazing, spine-tingling, toe-curling orgasms that were as electrifying as grabbing a high-voltage wire.
Slade was the high-voltage wire.
Oh god. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about that man?
Because you have to talk things out with him. You can’t run forever.
Gnawing her bottom lip at the spike of irritation that idea raised inside her, she ducked into her bathroom and splashed water on her face. Then she sniffed another prep pad and threw her shoulders back.
She could do this.
Couldshe do this? Carry a child? Give up being a SEAL? Grown-ass men got on her nerves. How could she ever handle a whining kid?
Just to prove to the team—and herself—that she was fine, she didn’t take the full ten minutes Apollo gave her. She hurried to the planning room and took a seat at the table across from him, meeting his eyes coolly.
When his serious expression split into a grin, she relaxed. “Heard you were wicked good in Mexico.”
“Thanks. Just following orders.”
“But you weren’t, that’s the thing. You thought on your feet and pulled off a successful op.”
She tilted her head to study him. “Is that what you did when you faked your death and went even deeper ops?”
“Yup. I saw a means to an end, and I took it—same as you.” He relaxed against the back of his chair. “Wasn’t easy coming back from it all, but it was worth it in the end.”
She chuckled. “Yes, I’d say stopping a high-profile terrorist was worth it.”
A beat of silence dragged out between them.
Apollo cleared his throat. “So…you and Overstreet?”
She slapped a hand off the table. “Dammit, does the whole team know?”
“Probably not the whole team. But I walked in on Frost and Mustang having a powwow.”
She let out an exasperated groan. “Fucking tattletales!”
He flashed a white-toothed grin. “Well, I might have pressured them a little bit. Overstreet and I fought together, and I consider him a brother.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What kind of pressure we talkin’? I hope it was thumb screws.”
He chuckled. “Didn’t have any of those on me at the time. I did threaten to tell their women about Bosnia, though.”
She scoffed. “You wouldn’t talk about Bosnia.” She wasn’t the only member of Blackout to still have hangups over that op.
When he shrugged, his enormous shoulders looked as though they might tear through his shirt. “I’m new to the Alpha team, and I already broke a few rules. The guys aren’t so sure of me yet.”
She laughed and then remembered his original question. Overstreet. Damn the man’s eyes, his hunky body—and his freakin’ strong swimmers too.
