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Shadow Rescue

Page 7

by Rebecca Deel


  “You’re nervous.”

  Joe never missed anything, a quality that made him such a great spotter and an annoying friend. “A little.”

  He remained silent a moment. “Come here, Sam.”

  She raised her head, her gaze locked with his. She crossed the expanse between them, stopping inches from his body.

  Joe cupped her nape and tugged her forward, closing the remaining gap. “Maybe this will help,” he murmured and lowered his head. His mouth captured hers in another soft, tender kiss that went on and on until her body melted against his, knees weak and shaking.

  Sam needed air but refused to stop the magic of his touch. Who needed to breathe?

  Joe lifted his head long enough to allow them to drag in a much-needed breath. “Again.” His lips slanted over hers, this time with more pressure and heat. He would ruin her for another man’s kiss. Who was she kidding? No other man would hold a candle to Joe.

  His tongue brushing over her bottom lip made her gasp. Joe took advantage of her response to deepen the kiss.

  Sam heard a soft moan, a woman’s moan. Hers. That’s when she became aware her arms were locked around his neck and she stood on her tiptoes to be as close as possible to this man.

  She should step back. But having Joe in her arms was a dream come true. She reminded herself this relationship wasn’t real. They weren’t in public, though. Did he care about her as more than a friend? Man, she hoped so.

  Joe lifted his mouth and pressed his forehead against hers, breath ragged. “Give me a minute and we’ll go explore the ship.” He tightened his hold. “Good grief, woman, that nearly got out of hand.” He paused a second, then whispered in her ear, “I can’t wait to do it again.”

  Sam laughed, glad she wasn’t the only one blown away by their chemistry.

  Finally, Joe dropped a light kiss on her mouth and released her. “We have to leave the suite before I cross a line, Sparky.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Sparky?”

  “Oh, yeah. You light me up like a firecracker, Samantha Coleman.”

  “Fire burns, you know.”

  A slow smile spread. “I’m counting on it.” After a kiss to her knuckles, Joe ushered her from the cabin to the upper decks. His arm wrapped lightly around her waist, keeping Sam close without hindering her ability to maneuver.

  They found places at the rail with the rest of the crowd as the Pacific Star got under way. A large man moved to the rail beside Sam, too close for comfort. She edged away, but the only place to go was closer to Joe.

  He noticed her dilemma and stepped back to move her in front of him. He placed his hands on the rail beside of hers, preventing anyone from encroaching on her space and fulfilling the role Maddox had assigned.

  “Better?” he murmured in her ear.

  She nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Relax, Mrs. Gray. I have your back.”

  Sam marveled that one minute her concentration centered on the stranger too close to her only to shift to the man protecting her back and sides. Her heart was in so much danger.

  Focus on the job. They were supposed to be newlyweds. Hard to carry off that role if Sam was stiff as a board. She deliberately leaned her back against his chest, nestling her head against his shoulder.

  “I could get used to that.” He kissed her temple.

  Once the ship sailed far enough from San Diego that passengers lost interest in waving at friends and family wishing them a good journey, the crowd thinned and Sam could breathe again. “We need to find Trace.”

  “Why?”

  “Patch.”

  Joe sucked in a breath. “I forgot about his seasickness.”

  “By this point, he’s starting to feel it.”

  “We better go. He’ll stand out if he starts puking on the deck.”

  They found their teammate down two decks, standing near a wall, looking a little green. Relief filled his eyes when he saw Sam.

  “Please tell me you brought my supply of patches,” he muttered.

  She glanced around. Coast was clear. “Bend down.” When he complied, Sam ripped open the packet she’d slid into her pocket before leaving the bedroom and applied the patch behind his ear. “You’ll feel better soon.”

  “You’re a lifesaver, Sam.” He bussed the top of her head with a light kiss.

  Joe stiffened.

  Sam stared at him. He had a problem with Trace kissing the top of her head as though they were siblings? She noted the icy stare sent Trace’s way. Whoa. Not good. Of all people, these two members of Shadow depended on each other to survive more than the rest of them. Joe was Trace’s spotter. They had to have each other’s backs. Bad blood between the two could be deadly for one or both of them.

  She deliberately moved in front of Joe and laid her hand over his heart. “Stop.”

  Joe’s gaze remained fixed on the sniper.

  “Dial it back, buddy,” Trace said, amusement coloring his voice. “I don’t have designs on your wife.”

  Those words appeared to snap Joe back into focus. “Sorry.”

  “We should keep moving.” Sam looked at Trace over her shoulder. “Let me know when the symptoms return and I’ll give you another patch.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Sam wanted to ask Joe about the death glare he’d lobbed at Trace but this wasn’t the time or place. When they returned to the suite, she’d talk to him. It was time she figured out what changed between her and Joe.

  She and Joe made appearances at various populated spots around the ship. By the time they finished, Sam was ready for a nap, too tired to launch into a serious discussion. Their talk would have to wait a little longer.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I’m too tired to eat.”

  “All right. We’ll eat when you wake.” He clasped her hand as they walked to their suite. Inside, he nudged her toward the bedroom. “I know Nico wants Shadow on duty during Mercy’s seminar. Listen to your body, Sparky. If you need more time to sleep, take it. We aren’t far from the dining room. If Shadow needs us, we’ll be on hand in two minutes or less. I can tell Nico we need to be off duty for this evening.”

  She wanted to be angry with him for suggesting she couldn’t pull her weight but Sam was feeling the results of the flight and the long stay in the employee dining room at the terminal. “I’ll see how I feel when I wake up.”

  Joe trailed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “I’ll be here. I have your back. Let yourself sleep.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, then dropped his hand from her face and stepped back.

  Sam closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. Joe Gray was addictive. She sighed. Daydreaming about the handsome spotter wouldn’t help her obtain the sleep she desperately needed.

  She untied her boots, toed them off, and set her weapons within easy reach. With a soft groan, Sam reclined on the bed. She fell asleep within seconds of closing her eyes.

  Waking sometime later, she was disoriented. The light from the window was dim and the sun was in a different position. She padded into the bathroom and splashed water on her face to help sweep the cobwebs from her brain. After brushing her hair, tying on her boots, and strapping on her weapons, Sam opened the bedroom door.

  Joe looked up from the sofa where he was working on his laptop. “Feel better?”

  “Much. Did you sleep?”

  “A few hours.” He closed the computer lid, set it aside, and stood. “Ready to eat now?”

  She nodded. “Are we too late to help with Mercy’s demonstration?”

  “We’ll be on time if we leave now.” He walked to her side. “Nico sent a text ten minutes ago. He and Mercy saved us seats at their table.”

  When he reached for the knob, Sam laid her hand on his arm. “Wait.”

  “What is it?”

  “When we were with Trace earlier, you pinned him with the 1,000-yard stare. Why?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Joe froze, his heartbeat accelerating. She wanted to do this now? F
ine. He prayed she could handle the answer and still carry off the charade necessary for their assignment. “You know why.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that. I don’t want cryptic statements from you. Help me understand what’s going on.”

  Joe turned then and wrapped his arms around her. “You’re an observant woman. You know what’s happening between us.”

  “Spell it out for me.”

  “I don’t want another man kissing you.”

  She blinked. “We’re teammates and he’s one of your best friends.”

  “He’s a man and single.”

  “This marriage isn’t real, Joe. We’re playing a role.”

  “The license isn’t real. Everything else is.”

  Sam growled at him. “Explain that or we’ll miss dinner.”

  “The chemistry between us is real. How I feel about you is real. I don’t share, Sparky.”

  “You don’t share what?”

  “You.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “This isn’t a charade to me, Sam. The license is fake. The rest is pure truth.” He dropped a quick kiss on her mouth and broke his hold. “Come on. We need to go.”

  “But.…”

  “Just think about what I said and consider giving us a chance.” Joe opened the door to the corridor, forestalling further questions. He didn’t want to push her tonight. Their relationship had shifted. Whether the shift was a positive or negative was up to her. But it was taking every ounce of willpower he had not to fall on his knees and beg her to give him a chance.

  He entwined their fingers and led her to an upper deck. The buzz of conversation and laughter, scent of food, and clink of glasses and silverware greeted them as they walked into the dining room.

  Joe scanned the room and lifted his chin to Nico. He and Sam threaded their way through the crowded tables to their teammates. Seated at the table were Captain Greer, Nico and Mercy, and the four executives from Hollingbrook Cruise Lines.

  He seated Sam, then sat in the chair beside hers. “Sorry we’re late. We got distracted.”

  Sam’s face flamed as the others at the table smiled at them, some winking or giving them a sly grin. Mercy squeezed Sam’s hand. “We explained to our tablemates about you and Joe being newlyweds.” She introduced the captain and Hollingbrook executives.

  “Congratulations,” Charlaine Bennett said. Longing filled her eyes as her gaze shifted to Lance Farraday who looked anywhere but at Charlaine.

  The lack of interaction between the two puzzled Joe. Had Farraday and Bennett had a falling out since their daughter was born? “Thanks.”

  Joe turned his attention to the plate full of food the waiter had placed in front of him. As he ate, Joe scanned the room for the exits and located Ben and Trace. Twenty feet from the captain’s table was a raised platform with a tall stool, a microphone, and an easel with Mercy’s pens and paper.

  “What do you do for a living, Gray?” Dax Alexander asked.

  Joe went with the story he and his teammates had decided was the easiest to maintain because it had been true for both him and Sam earlier in their careers. “Army. Sam, too.”

  Colt Riley’s eyebrows rose. “Wow. Will Uncle Sam keep you assigned to the same place?”

  “We’re not due for reassignment for a while. When the time comes, we’ll request to be posted to the same base.”

  “What are your jobs?” Charlaine asked.

  “I’m an MP.” A true job description before he joined his Ranger unit as a sharpshooter. “Sam is a medic.”

  Lance Farraday spoke up. “Thanks to both of you for your service to our country.”

  Greer set down his glass. “What are you drawing tonight, Mercy?”

  “A lighthouse on a jut of land on a stormy night seemed most appropriate.”

  “I hope we don’t run into a storm.” Charlaine glanced toward the dining room’s entrance.

  The captain put down his fork. “Don’t worry, Charlaine. The long-range forecast is clear but if we know a storm is brewing in the Pacific, we take measures to safeguard the passengers and ship.”

  Lance’s grip tightened on his fork but he remained silent.

  Interesting. Was he worried about himself, Charlaine, their daughter? Maybe Lance wasn’t as unaffected as he tried to appear. Joe glanced at Sam and noticed she was watching the father as well.

  “Is Kayla settling in all right?” Mercy asked the female executive.

  Charlaine beamed. “She’s the sweetest baby ever. Nothing seems to faze her. Even the time we spent in the terminal didn’t seem to bother her at all. She only cried when she needed a diaper change or a bottle.”

  “We’d love to see her, wouldn’t we, Sam?”

  “Absolutely. I love kids.”

  “What about you and Joe? Are you planning to have children?” Charlaine asked.

  “Not for a while yet.” Sam leaned her head against Joe’s shoulder causing his heart to go into overdrive. “I want Joe all to myself right now.”

  He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Feeling her shiver made him smile. Good to know she was as affected by their chemistry. “Having kids is more challenging with our careers. We’ll work it out, but for now I want to enjoy our time together. When we’re ready, we’ll make decisions about our jobs. We’ll handle it together.” Having children would be a challenge as Fortress operatives.

  His gut clenched. When had he gone from wanting to date Sam to thinking about raising a family with her?

  Charlaine turned to Mercy and Nico. “What about you two?”

  “We’ve only been married two months.” Mercy smiled at Nico. “We’re still in the honeymoon phase, too. What about the rest of you?” Mercy directed her question to the other men at the table. “Are you married? Have children?”

  Colt Riley grinned. “Sorry, Mercy. No woman or kids. I’m a footloose and fancy-free bachelor. If Joe hadn’t seen Sam first, I might have been tempted to leave my partying ways.”

  Joe forced a smile to his lips when he felt like punching Riley in the face. “Too late.”

  “Four ex-wives, one current wife, and two kids for me,” Dax said with a grimace.

  “No wife,” Lance said curtly. He said nothing about children.

  “I need to check on my daughter,” Charlaine said and rose. The men of the table stood until she left. Lance stared after her before dragging his gaze back to his meal. As soon as conversation around the table restarted, he started steadily wolfing down his meal.

  Wouldn’t surprise Joe if Lance cut short his evening. He couldn’t figure out was why Lance and Charlaine weren’t a couple in public. Zane’s research indicated they were still seeing each other.

  Greer reached for his fork and grimaced.

  “How are you feeling, Captain?” Sam asked.

  “Sore, like you said.”

  Dax looked from Greer to Sam and back. “Are you sick, Greer?”

  “Not like you mean. I cut my arm in the terminal and Sam was kind enough to treat it for me.”

  “Handy to have a medic around.”

  “The terminal was such a madhouse I couldn’t find our ship’s doctor for him to take care of the injury.” He looked at Sam. “What do you and Joe do in your spare time for fun?”

  “I restore classic cars.” Joe nodded at Sam. “My wife builds tree houses.”

  Dax’s eyes brightened as he stared at Joe. Lance pulled his attention away from his plate. “Tree houses?”

  “That’s right.” Sam smiled.

  “Don’t you live on a base?”

  “Some with families want their own space. I build tree houses for those living off base. Since military personnel are reassigned all the time, new families move into the area. Word gets around and I have more tree house requests than I can fill.”

  “Do you have pictures?”

  Sam palmed her phone and tapped the photos app. She slid the phone across the table.

  Lance’s jaw dropped as he scrolled th
rough the images of the structures she’d built over the years. “These are miniature works of art. I build tree houses, too, but nothing like these. How did you become interested in them?”

  Because Joe’s thigh rested against hers, he felt her muscles tense. Not sure what caused the reaction, he laid his left hand on her knee as he scanned the room for trouble.

  Ben caught his eye, eyebrow raised in silent inquiry.

  Joe gave a slight shake of his head. He didn’t see a direct threat to their safety.

  Sam laid her fork on her plate and, underneath the table, gripped Joe’s hand, hard. “Tree houses were my refuge as a kid. They were safe places. I want to provide that same refuge for other children.”

  Joe kept his face impassive while inside his thoughts whirled and spun in chaotic fashion. Sam’s voice told Joe the words she spoke were the truth and convinced him her childhood had been difficult. He longed to go back in time and protect her. The idea that someone would hurt this woman sliced deep into his heart. What he wouldn’t give to have the right to protect her from pain and hurt.

  Because he knew her, Joe shifted the conversation back to Lance. “When did you start building tree houses?”

  “A friend took me to a charity homebuilding project for a low-income family. I loved the process and volunteered for more home builds. The next summer, a neighbor asked for help building a tree house. Seeing results that fast was satisfying and fun. I’ve built tree houses for five years.”

  A small commotion at the entrance to the dining room caught Joe’s attention. Trace had stopped a frantic Charlaine at the threshold, his hands resting on the woman’s shoulders while she gestured toward the captain’s table with one hand and held the baby against her with the other arm.

  A moment later, Shadow’s sniper glanced at Joe, then Sam, and gave a subtle hand signal. Nico stood along with Sam and Joe. “We’ll be back,” Joe said. They followed Nico into the corridor.

  Charlaine grabbed one of Sam’s hands. “Please help my daughter.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Sam looked at the infant who appeared to be sound asleep against her mother’s shoulder. “What’s wrong with her?”

 

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