Instead of waiting, I close the distance between our bodies and kiss him. If I wait any longer, he’ll see the hesitation and the innocence I’m trying so desperately to hide. His fingers twine around me and I shudder in pleasure. He moves his mouth against mine, his tongue dancing with mine, his hardness pressing into my stomach. “We could go upstairs,” I utter against his lips.
His lips brush mine as he shakes his head no. “I got you something,” he says, clearing his throat. “Well I snagged it from the dermo bin at work when I couldn’t get ahold of you. It’s where we toss gear and electronics when we’re finished using them, or when new stuff arrives and we upgrade.”
“Oh,” I ask, leaning away. Sliding one hand into his pocket, he produces a small, older model cell phone. “It will work no matter where you are. I know you don’t want to be tethered to a cell phone, but this can send and receive text messages. It will be helpful while we’re working on the house,” he explains, stepping away from me. When I make a move to approach, he puts a hand out. “Just the tip, Caroline. I have to leave,” he says. “Right. Now.”
“I don’t really need this,” I tell him, holding up the weird square phone. Everyone has one so I recognize what it is, and technology isn’t foreign to me, but it’s odd being reachable at any given point. “We could use the home phone.”
“My house won’t have a home phone. Most people’s homes don’t have home phones,” he says, mounting his bike.
I laugh. “It looks like you’re going to break that bike,” I say.
His response is a wide grin, and then, “Better than breaking you.”
“Text me,” he says. “Have a good night, Sunny.” He rides off into the dark after he watches me go inside and lock the door.
I look at the device laying in my palm and squeal like a little girl.
Chapter Eleven
Tahoe
“I have to do it,” I say, a sheen of sweat cropping up across my hairline. Leif is on the other end of the phone. “Can I leave next week?” I have dinner with Caroline’s parents tonight and I really, really don’t want to miss it. We’ve jumped out of the airplane about eight times today. It was the stress relief I’ve needed. It’s the adrenaline I’ve craved. My muscles are coiled hard and my mindset is intense.
“Yeah, next week shouldn’t be a problem,” Leif says, rattling off details about the mission I’m needed on. One of my brother’s in San Diego has business to attend to and I’m needed to go fill in for him. It should be a quick mission—one that is in and out, and has me back to Bronze Bay in a few weeks. They’re confident I’ve had enough time away to jump back into the game if only for a bit. My shooting is still top notch, and if anything, my mind is clearer now than it’s ever been. As Leif tells me about the terrorist quad we’re hunting in N.Y.C., I let my gaze trace the vast landscape of the airport until I see her. She’s been ghosting around all day—staying out of our way almost completely. She’s wearing that fucking white dress and a pair of Converse sneakers, her hair up in a massive bun on top of her head, arms full of some sort of metal piece that looks half the size of her body. Aidan rushes to help her carry the part the rest of the way into a hangar. She lets him.
“Three weeks, you said?” I ask, when there’s a lull on the other end of the line.
He grunts. “Yeah, maybe longer, but you saw the intel last week. They can’t have moved very far.” When Leif called today, I knew exactly who they were going after. We may be on the opposite coast, living in small town, U.S.A. but they do a good job of keeping us up to speed. “It will be a quick flight from Bronze Bay, so you can leave any time of the day, really, especially now that we have our planes and pilot there,” Leif explains. After a beat or two he adds, “You’re going to miss your puppy. Awww.”
“Shut the fuck up, Leif,” I retort. “I can’t wait to get back in it. I’ve been out of the game so long.”
“Don’t pretend you aren’t having the time of your fucking life here. With her,” he throws back. “You are constantly smiling like a lunatic and your testosterone levels are at an all-time low. Don’t fuck up again. Before, it was because you were overworked. Now, it would be because you’re underworkedandunderfucked,” he says, changing our conversation completely.Not for long, I muse. Readjusting the parachute harness caging my chest, I look back at the hangar. Aidan and Caroline are laughing about something. Her white smile visible from here, and Aidan’s body language says everything. He touches her arm before bending over to touch a part on whatever the fuck thing Caroline is working on. “Fuck you, Leif,” I mutter, then click off the call.
With deadly purpose, I march toward the hangar. Mentally flipping through all the jealous insults I can’t say for fear of being judged by my friend, and they would offend Caroline in a way I’d never dream of.
Their backs are toward me when I stop at the wide opening. “You didn’t reply to my text,” I growl. A greeting would be too easy, too simple.
Aidan spins first, his eyes wide, and fists clenched and ready. Caroline merely turns her head, a wide, lovesick smile on her face when she sees me. Guilt washes away any trace of envy.
Her cheeks pink as she stands and covers her mouth with a dainty, grease covered hand. “The phone,” she exclaims. “It’s in my bed. I’m not used to carrying something like that around with me. I’m so sorry. You messaged me?” Her blue eyes are clear and hopeful. If Aidan didn’t realize I had her so completely before, he does now—his narrowed eyes and pinched mouth a clear indicator of defeat. “What does it say?” she says, lowering her hand to show black streaks now on her face.
I tilt my head toward my friend. “We’re in mixed company right now,” I say as an explanation. “Read it later.”
“Aidan knows a lot about airplanes. I didn’t realize that jumping out of them and working on them went hand in hand,” she explains looking between us.
“Not all of us have that kind of interest,” Aidan replies, a small smirk appearing as he looks at Caroline. “I’ve always loved aircrafts.”
“Why didn’t you become a Navy Pilot then?” she asks, genuinely curious.
We both scoff. This is common ground. “SEALs have more fun,” Aidan says, relaying both of our sentiments, exactly. “It’s the hardest thing you can do in the Navy.”
She shuffles one foot forward and backward. “It’s not like you guys are having that much fun here,” she says, but it’s more of a question. “I had the news on last night and there’s a lot going on over on the West Coast. SEALs are always handling something it seems.”
She looks up at me. “Not that I watch the news very often, but I was curious.”
Aidan says something about how he’s glad he’s in Florida because of the operation tempo. “There’s plenty of stuff going on that’s not on the news, Caroline. We’re all happy to be here for more than one reason.”
Aidan clears his throat. “I’ll see you next Friday,” he says, gaze lingering on her face longer than I’m comfortable with. She responds with her sweet smile. “I’ll have this part taken apart by then. You can take a look when you have down time,” she says, gazing at the huge metal piece like a mad scientist. Aidan says goodbye, lets his eyes slide to me briefly, and exits into the sunshine.
