“Yeah, you do. Now let me sleep, je suis fatigué.”
“How’s it going in here?” Eve asked, coming through the open door after her physical therapy session with Jay.
“Madelyn’s cranky,” Grant said.
“Grant’s a dick,” Madelyn replied.
“Okaaay.” Eve drew out the word long and slow as she looked between them. “I think you two need a bit of a time out.”
“I’m not leav?—”
“Get out,” Madelyn ordered without even bothering to open her eyes to look his way. “You’re stinky. You need a shower. And I’m not going to die.” She flapped her hand toward the door. “Don’t come back until you’ve eaten a proper meal either. Your gurgling stomach kept me awake all night.”
“Jeez,” Grant huffed, not at all put out by her show of bravado. He liked it. He liked her. And her bossiness put him at ease. If she had enough fight left over to smack him down a notch, she had enough strength and energy to heal and recover. It’d take some time, but Notre dame de vol would be up and flying again. “Tell me how you really feel.”
“I just did, Kincaid. Now go before I get up to kick your ass, and seriously, eat something.”
“Here.” Eve crossed over to the table stationed beside his chair. “Take this with you.” She handed him a tray of cold food. “JTT briefing in an hour. Don’t be late.”
“I’ll be there,” Madelyn said.
“No, you won’t.” He scowled at her despite the joke.
“Then bring me a cup of coffee when you come back.”
“No coffee.” Hand on his lower back, Eve gave him a gentle shove toward the exit. “And don’t forget, you have physio at four.”
“I’ll be there,” he said, because he was sore as fuck, and no one said no to being treated by Eve. At the door, he paused to look over his shoulder, and surprised to find Madelyn’s eyes on his, he smiled his first genuine smile since being back at the base. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon.”
“Coffee,” she mouthed. Her pleading expression conveyed her point, making the praying hands unnecessary. He nodded, she smiled, and it hit him like the sun had come out.
“Hey, fuck face,” Cody said, coming toward him. Dressed in an athletic tank and gym shorts, he looked sweaty from working out. “You gonna stand there and moon over Ryder all day?” He took the tray from Grant’s hands. “Where to?”
“Kitchen,” he huffed. “And I’m not mooning.” He tossed a wave she didn’t see because her eyes were closed again, then he picked up the pace to keep his limp dick stride in sync with Cody’s. “She’s my responsibility, and I have a duty to make sure she gets back to her team in one piece.”
“Responsibility?” Cody took the stairs two at a time, and Grant shuffled after him, hand white-knuckled on the railing while he conquered one painful tread after another.
“Yeah.”
“Duty?”
He looked up to find Cody waiting on the landing, his eyebrows cocked to his hairline. “Yeah, that’s what I said. What of it, fucknut?”
“You didn’t shoot her.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Annoyed, Grant retrieved the tray and snailed on by. “She was there because of me.”
“She was there for the same reasons as the rest of her team. Money. A vague sense of duty. And the love of a good fucking fight. Three days ago, she didn’t know you from Adam, so she sure as shit wasn’t there because she was doing you a favor.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he growled, crossing the threshold to the kitchen and spinning to face Cody, stopping him in his tracks. “She’s Canadian.”
“And?”
“She’s a Lion.”
“I don’t know what the fuck that means, but so what?”
“It means she’s 427 SOAS, dumbass. Notre dame de vol. She’s one of the best special operations pilots in the skies. Highly trained, sought after by tier one teams worldwide, and if it weren’t for her, Jay would be dead. In which case, the JTT, not to mention the entire fucking planet, would be royally fucking fucked, so show her some respect. She’s more than earned it.”
