Heart's Desire

by Ellie Masters

  Ryker stopped in his tracks. “How did you know where to find me?”

  “Wasn’t that hard,” Forest grumped. “Ash and I headed to your barracks. One look at your gear, packed up all nice and untouched and shit, and I knew exactly where to find you.”

  He didn’t think he and Tia had been that obvious. “Who’ve you told?” It gutted him to have to ask, but Tia would freak once she found out that others knew about them.

  Forest never paused. The giant continued to walk away, but he looked over his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, lover boy.”

  Jogging to catch up, Ryker ground his teeth together. They’d been so fucking discreet. “Easy for you to say,” he ground out. “This is a big deal.”

  “Then, why’d you fuck her? If it’s that big of a deal, why not keep it in your pants? You’re risking destroying her career.”

  He didn’t have an answer, except for a very personal and selfish one. Not that it mattered. It was time for damage control.

  “Who have you told?” he demanded.

  “Me?” Forest said with a snort. “Why the hell do you think I’d go and tell anyone?”

  “Because…”

  “Who you fuck or don’t fuck means shit to me. That means I’m not likely to go blabbing shit that’s none of my business.”

  That should reassure Ryker, but his heart rate spiked. “It’s a big deal, dude. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything.”

  This time, Forest came to a stop. Dry dust billowed around them as a passing breeze kicked up sand. The desert air sucked the moisture out of his lungs, making his mouth dry. Despite that, his insides seethed, and sweat beaded his brow from the heat building beneath the afternoon sun.

  “Look, you got something for Tia,” Forest said. “I get that. Don’t think for a second I’m going to do anything that might jeopardize Tia or her career. I don’t know you, but she’s family. I suggest you zip it and get control of yourself. If not for you, then for the woman who stands to lose everything.” Forest’s attention turned back the way they’d come. He squinted, and Ryker turned to see what or who had caught his attention, but there was no one.

  “You don’t understand,” Ryker said.

  “I understand pretty damn well,” Forest said with a sniff. “You’re fucking my friend. Just don’t fuck with her career.”

  “Does Ash know?”

  Forest said Ash had been with him.

  “Nah, I told him I had an idea where you might be. He grabbed your gear and headed back.”

  “Why the rush to find me?”

  “Vane wants to do a concert tonight. After the convoy was hit, he says everyone’s been on edge. They’re looking for Angel Fire to jump ship. This tour is a big deal. Ash doesn’t want to be a pansy-assed rocker who can’t handle what you all live with every day. He wants to give something back.”

  “So, give back. You don’t need me.”

  Forest arched a brow. “We don’t have a bassist, asshole, but we do have you.”

  “Not without Bent’s approval.”

  “Bent’s going to kick your ass for being such an obstinate asswipe. And I don’t think you understand the guys very well. They’re not just tight, not just brothers. They’re something else entirely. They’ve been through hell and back. Having a guy stand in for a couple of weeks isn’t exactly this big threat you’re making it out to be.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Ryker asserted. “I still want to talk with Bent.”

  They approached the VIP barracks. Forest waved him in. “I suggest you hurry. Ash wants to do two shows tonight. You’ve got a couple of hours to get ready.”

  Inside the VIP quarters, Ryker found himself more than a little shocked. All the lodging on base rated utilitarian at best, barely livable at worst. What he walked into was luxury at its finest. A gathering area with a clustering of leather sofas and chairs occupied the center of what looked to be a main room. Beyond that, a long conference table stretched to the far wall. In a world without personal cooking facilities, there was even a small galley kitchen, replete with a full-sized refrigerator, stove, and small countertop lined with four barstools. All the stools were occupied. Ash sat in the middle with Bash. Spike and Noodles flanked them. The four of them pored over papers spread between them. Bash glanced up, followed by the others, who greeted him with friendly smiles.

  Bash waved him over. “Hey, come take a look.”

  Forest’s meaty hand gripped Ryker’s shoulder, holding him back. He steered him toward a hallway to the right. “Ryker’s gonna freshen up a bit. Seems these Air Force Special Ops folks have a thing about working out in full battle gear. He fucking reeks. Give him a few.”

  Spike gave a chin bump. The piercings in his lips flashed in the light. “Dude, hurry up. We’ve gotta get you up to speed.”

  Noodles turned back around without a word.

  Bash crossed his arms over his chest and blew out a deep breath. “Yeah, hurry up. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  Something passed between Forest and Ash, a rapid-fire silent language of eyes cutting back and forth. Evidently, Forest wasn’t the only one who knew where he’d spent the night.

  Lifting a hand, he headed for the hall. “Um, where’s my stuff?”

  “Second door to the left,” Forest growled. “Bathroom is all the way at the end of the hall.”

  “Okay, won’t take me long.”

  Forest gave him a push and joined the members of the band. “Whatcha looking at?” His deep baritone thundered through the room.

  The rest of Angel Fire’s conversation was lost to Ryker as he tracked down his ruck and headed for the bathroom. He had to find a way to speak with Tia. She was going to freak out.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Bent

  Tia

  Tia caught the arctic glare Forest shot from where she stood by the showers. He corralled Ryker, tugging him in close for one of his monstrous hugs. She didn’t envy Ryker for whatever conversation followed. Forest only did that to people who pissed him off. At least he hadn’t caught Ryker leaving her barracks. That would have ignited a nuclear-level meltdown.

  She’d made it all the way to the showers, only to realize she’d left shampoo behind. This time of day, there wasn’t anyone to borrow from, which left her to head back to her room and dig it out of her pack. The place smelled like sex and would need a good airing out. She left the door propped open while she searched. Late afternoon heat spilled through the open door, and sand billowed in on the gusting breeze. Despite the dirt, the air smelled fresh, clean, and full of promise for a bright future.

  Returning to the showers, she enjoyed an unexpected privacy and luxuriated in limitless hot water. Not that she needed the heat. It was plenty hot outside as the sun baked the desert in its daily cycle of heat, followed by relentless cold. However, hot water wasn’t something she enjoyed in the field. There, it was cold water at best. At worst, a field shower with baby wipes. That reminded her to visit the exchange before it closed. She gave a soft laugh as water sluiced down her body. One item was no longer on her list. That was probably a good thing. No way was she slapping boxes of condoms down on the checkout counter. With Ryker’s stamina, they would run through box after box. Thanks to her IUD, pregnancy wasn’t a concern, and they’d had the STD talk. No need for condoms. Baby wipes though? Never enough of those.

  After her shower, she had about an hour before it was time to meet Ryker for chow. She took advantage of her downtime and headed to the medical center, intent on checking in on the victims from the convoy. Several men in that Humvee had sustained injuries. She visited them, stopping by their beds, holding their hands, and asking if there was anything she could do or anyone they wanted her to call. Their unit would notify next of kin of their injuries, but she wanted to do something special for them.

  After checking in with each of them, she found herself beside the bed of Angel Fire’s bassist. Bent’s arm had been splinted. He had a bandage wrapped around his head, and there was
a splint on his leg. Funny, she hadn’t remembered a leg injury. His eyes were closed, but from the rhythm of his breathing, he was clearly resting and wasn’t asleep.

  “How are you holding up?” She gripped his good hand and gave it a light squeeze.

  He cracked open one eye, gave her the once-over, and then opened the other eye. “Much better now,” he said with a voice lined with pain.

  “You sure? Are you in pain?”

  “If you ask me to rate my pain on a scale of one to ten, I might reconsider giving you this kiss.”

  “Which kiss?”

  “The one I’m rocking in my head right now,” he said with a wince. “You’re fucking loving this kiss, by the way.”

  She laughed and leaned down to kiss his brow. “There. How’s that?”

  “Mine was way hotter than that,” he said with a frown. “Just saying.”

  “I’m sure it was.” She turned his hand over and examined the scrapes. “You’re a little banged up.”

  “Ya think?”

  “What have they done for you? Did you go to surgery?”

  “Hell if I know,” he admitted. “To be honest, I don’t remember anything. I kind of woke up in this bed a few hours ago.”

  “Oh, that must’ve been terrifying,” she said. “No one’s talked to you?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe? The corpsman says my memory is whacked.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. Making herself comfortable, she hitched a hip on his mattress and cupped his hand.

  “I’ve had worse,” he said with a sigh.

  “Did anyone tell you what happened?”

  “They said the convoy got hit.”

  “Not hit exactly,” she said and then went on to explain the roadside bomb.

  “Wow,” he said. “I guess we were lucky.” His lips pressed together. “Did anyone…”

  “No. No deaths,” she said, rushing to reassure him. “Several were injured in the Humvee in front of us. You’re the only one who had significant injuries on the bus.”

  “What about Skye? Shit, Ash is probably having a cow right now. Is he pulling the tour? Shit, that ass had better not do that. Shit, fucking shit.” He glanced at his arm. “Guess I’m kind of out of it.”

  “You need to focus on healing.”

  His fingers wriggled on his broken arm. “My fingers are fat.”

  “They’re swollen. I’ll get the nurse to loosen the splint. It looks like they set your arm, but you don’t have a cast on.”

  “Why not? If I broke my arm, shouldn’t I have a cast?”

  She pinched the nail bed of his finger.

  “That hurts,” he hissed.

  “It hurts because your arm as well as your hand are swollen after the break. They can’t put a cast on you until the swelling goes down. Imagine what would happen if they put you in a hard cast, and you swelled up even more?”

  He squinted and gave her a smirk. “Doc, if that’s your idea of dirty talk, you need to work on it.”

  She laughed. “Not talking dirty to you,” she said, “and I’m not a doc. I’m an anesthetist.”

  “A what-a-what?”

  “CRNA. Certified Registered Nurse Anesthetist.”

  “Whatever the fuck that is.”

  “I’m the one who puts foul-mouthed chatty men to sleep.”

  “Hell,” he said, “there’s no way you’re ever going to put a man to sleep, hon. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

  “Sweet talk won’t get you anywhere with Tia,” Ryker’s deep voice called from the door.

  She spun around and just barely kept herself in check. After last night, her first instinct was to leap into Ryker’s arms and wrap her legs around his hips. Instead, she released Bent’s hand and crossed her arms over her chest. Her fatigues were thick, but her nipples had hardened at the sound of Ryker’s voice and could probably cut right through the thick fabric of her uniform.

  “Ryker,” she said, surprised at the evenness of her voice, “what brings you here?”

  He approached, lifted a hand to brush her cheek, and then withdrew sharply. “I need to talk to Bent,” he said.

  “Awesome,” Bent said. “Pull up a chair, and join the party. Just don’t expect me to pay you any mind, not with this goddess sitting beside me.”

  Ryker huffed a laugh. “Yeah, she gets that a lot.”

  “I do not!” she exclaimed. Furrowing her brows, she gave a slight shake of her head to warn Ryker off from being too informal.

  Despite what had happened last night, she was a major, and he was still very much enlisted.

  Ryker didn’t seem fazed by her comment and continued to tease, “Yeah, I’m not supposed to say this, but she’s got all of us wrapped around her finger.”

  Bent’s attention focused on her, and she prayed he didn’t notice the flush in her cheeks.

  His gaze narrowed. “What did you need to talk with me about?”

  “It’s about Angel Fire. Ash and the guys…”

  She cocked her head, surprised at his hesitancy but understood his concern. Their request affected him on a level that went beyond simply butting his way into the band. She needed to ask him about it later.

  “Yeah, where are they? I mean, no disrespect, Tia, but I kind of thought they’d be the ones standing beside my bed. Not you.”

  “What do you mean?” Ryker asked. “They said—”

  “Ryker,” she interrupted, “his memory is spotty. He doesn’t remember anything before this morning. I don’t think he knows what they did or didn’t say to him.”

  Ryker’s eyes widened. “Shit, that bites.”

  “Yeah,” Bent said, pointing to his head. “Everything is scrambled in here.” He paused and glanced down, losing himself in thought for a moment, but then he glanced up. “Is my memory fucked? Like, is this one of those brain injury things?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “Want me to find out?”

  “Only if I’m going to remember,” he said with a frown. “This is so fucked up.” His eyes brightened, and he turned to Ryker. “Hey! I’ve got an idea.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t let Ash cancel the tour.”

  “I—”

  “Nah, listen,” Bent pushed, “he can’t cancel. I might be fucked up, but you’re not.”

  Ryker lifted both hands and took a step back. “Hey, I’m not so sure…”

  “Fuck, Ash has been talking about this tour for the past six months. He’s been totally stoked about it. I don’t want this to mess with that.” He rapped on the splint covering his arm. “Who knows how long I’m going to be out of it? But that’s no reason for the tour to suffer, not when we’ve got you.”

  “Bent,” she said, interjecting herself into a conversation that didn’t concern her, “that’s a lot to ask of Ryker. I know I’d feel a little weird about it if it were me.”

  “Why?” His eyes cut between her and Ryker. “I think it’s a great idea. He knows all the songs. We only have a couple that are new, ones we wanted to premier on this tour. It won’t take but a second for him to learn them. It’s the perfect solution to a royally fucked up situation.”

  “You want me to play for Angel Fire?” Ryker pressed two fingers to his forehead. “I just don’t know.”

  “Shit, you gotta do this for me,” Bent begged.

  Ryker had a deep-seated fear about stepping in and breaking up the band, but excitement lingered behind his eyes. There was a desperation to his refusal, but Bent remained steadfast and insistent. While they argued back and forth, she stepped away to take a look at Bent’s chart, worried about the extent of the damage to his arm and concerned about his memory loss. There was more than a little swelling in his hand, and not all of his fingers had been moving when he wiggled them. The possibility of nerve damage weighed heavily on her mind. He might never fully recover, and that would have significant repercussions.

  The door to the ward banged open, and five men entered, bringing the overall level of testosterone to a suffocat
ing height. Angel Fire had arrived, and behind them, the towering form of her savior surveyed the room. Forest’s eyes latched on to her, shifted to Ryker, and narrowed with disapproval. Did he know?

  Not possible.

  She and Ryker had been careful. But why did it look like Forest wanted to rip Ryker a new one?

  “Did you tell him?” Ash entered the room like he owned it, sauntering in with swagger.

  His charismatic grin brought smiles to the faces of the other patients in the ward—men trapped on beds, attached to monitoring wires, and hooked to IV tubing. He didn’t ignore them even though he clearly wanted to speak with Bent. Ash and the others stopped at each bed, shook hands with the patients, and lightened the mood by cracking jokes and generally goofing off. It was probably the best pain medicine those guys would see and one hell of a story for them to tell their friends.

  Eventually, Ash made his way over to Bent. He gripped Bent’s good shoulder and gave it a shake. “Did you?”

  “Did I what?” Bent said.

  “Tell him about playing,” Ash continued.

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about, but Ryker and I were talking about him filling in for me for the rest of this tour.”

  Ash glanced at Bash. A frown creased his forehead. “Um…”

  Tia stepped up and explained, “Bent’s head injury is affecting his memory. Anything surrounding the crash and immediately post-op is gone.”

  “Like gone, gone?” Ash asked.

  “Hard to say,” she said. “Anesthesia can have an effect on short-term memory. It’s a nice benefit actually. That could be all this is.”

  “Could be?” Noodles, who rarely spoke, came to the foot of the bed. “How serious is this shit?”

  “Like I said, it’s too soon to tell.”

  She’d read the scans. Bent had signs of a concussion but no other obvious injury to his brain. Still, she was concerned about his memory loss, but she didn’t want to upset the band. Not without more information.

  “These things take time,” she said. “I wouldn’t be concerned about it just yet.”

  Bent barked a laugh. “I’m not worried. My noggin hurts like hell, but it’s just a flesh wound.”