She pegged him with an unwavering stare. It was time for him to shit or get off the pot. That expression had always been a favorite of hers.
“I witnessed your little liaison,” he said. “I think that is proof enough. If a personal relationship affects the functioning of the unit, it ceases to be personal and becomes an official concern.”
“With all due respect, sir, that means shit.”
What had he seen? She needed to tease that information out without giving away too much.
She took herself out of parade rest and crossed her arms over her chest. Like most men, his gaze dropped to her tits, but he caught himself and brought his attention back to meet her stare.
“I get it,” she said. “It’s a man’s world out there. You’re not the first to check out my breasts, nor will you be the last. I get that kind of attention all the damn time out there. I choose not to let it bother me, but I’m not about to bring you up on sexual harassment charges because you can’t keep your eyes off my boobs.”
“You want to accuse me of fraternization,” she said and tried like hell to keep her voice even and calm, “you’d better have proof.”
Her intent wasn’t to threaten him, but he had her scared. Reacting too harshly was going to get her in trouble. It was time to rein it in.
She continued, “If you saw us exiting that hangar and heading away to find a quiet place to talk, any inferences you make past that point are pure speculation.”
“Not speculation,” he asserted. “Supposition based upon the way Sergeant Lyons was adjusting his uniform on his return. You clearly headed out there for a tryst.”
“Speculation, and as for Lyons adjusting his uniform, it was by your order that he play onstage in his BDU bottoms and T-shirt. Lyons mentioned something about representing the Air Force while also blending with the band. Your choice. Not his. And it had nothing to do with me.”
She was venturing into all-out lies at this point, but her career was on the line. Embellishing might make her story more believable, but Colonel Vane appeared to be a smart man. He would segregate her from Ryker, question him, and if their stories didn’t align, more questions would follow. She would have to leave the story of why he had been adjusting his uniform to Ryker.
“Explain why the two of you headed to a location of extreme privacy. You wouldn’t be the first set of lovers to find solace in the dark.”
“Sir,” she said, “he just finished an amazing performance with his rock idols. He needed to celebrate, blow off steam, and act a fool, as it were. He couldn’t dance around like a groupie in front of the band you’re expecting him to stand side by side with for the next few weeks. He needed a moment.”
“A moment?”
“Yes, sir,” she affirmed. “He needed a moment.”
“And how does that explain the dirt on your knees?”
She glanced down and noticed the dark stains for the first time. With her entire body trembling, she forced one more lie out into the open. “There’s dirt everywhere, Colonel. Just because I got down on the ground doesn’t mean anything more than that.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Safe
Ryker
Ryker strutted back onstage—or tried to. He had intended to go last, taking his position as temporary guest, but Ash shoved him to the front of the stage. While Bash lay down a recurrent drumbeat, supported by Noodles’s haunting melody on the keys, Ash spoke to the crowd about honor, bravery, and his humble thanks for everything the troops did for their country.
Ryker waved to the crowd as Ash introduced him and retold the story of the convoy running over a landmine, Bent’s injuries, and how Ryker had stepped in to fill the gap, so the tour could continue. With a handshake turned into a grip held high over their heads, Ash whipped the crowd into a frenzy. Meanwhile, Spike’s guitar joined the other instruments, turning soulful notes into a breathtaking line of spine-tingling emotion.
Ryker backed up to where the bass guitar waited on a stand. He lifted the strap over his head and settled the bass low on his hips. Bash led them into the pounding opening of “Heart’s Insanity,” and Ash lifted his voice with the power of song. All the while, Ryker glanced at the front row, expecting Tia up front and center. Forest was there along with Skye but no Tia. He didn’t think much of it until they were several songs into the playlist.
Still, no Tia.
When he scanned the crowd, unfamiliar faces stared back at him. Bagram wasn’t his duty station, and with the exception of a few people from the medical center, these were strangers, but he did catch his team. Warren pumped his fist, eyes alight and expression full of excitement. Beside him, Collins, Drummond, and Marks moved with the rhythm of the band and swayed with the energy of the crowd. It shouldn’t surprise him that they’d come. Their team was tight and unbreakable, which left him with regret about taking this gig.
A gig?
He snorted with that thought. The decision to play really hadn’t been left to him. Strong-armed by Forest and Vane, it had been impossible to refuse. He felt crappy, leaving his team in a lurch, but Forest had assured him the replacement personnel had been handpicked by Collins.
Still, no sign of Tia. Halfway through with the set, and she was nowhere to be found.
Spike met him center stage. They faced each other. Spike took lead while Ryker laid down the foundation of the song, building the buzzing scaffolding that supported everything else. Up front, Ash’s voice belted out power and sex to those surging back and forth. A powerful drug, the music lifted him up. He never wanted to leave. He didn’t want to stay. Caught between opposing thoughts, he sank into the music and let it carry him away.
The concert ended. He joined Ash and the others at the back of the stage.
“Dude,” Ash said, clapping him on the shoulder, “you totally rocked it.”
“Thanks.” He should have been more excited, but a tingle settled at the base of his neck. Something felt off.
Forest and Skye came back to join the band.
Forest’s loud voice echoed over the general din of the hangar. “You guys gonna stand here and scratch your balls or head out there to greet the troops?”
Ash gave a grin, but his eyes cut to Skye. “I can think of better things to do.”
“Keep it in your pants, lover boy,” Forest said. “I don’t need that image in my head.”
“What image?” Ash’s crooked smile and hooded eyes made no secret of what thoughts tumbled in his mind. If anyone couldn’t figure it out, the deep scarlet coloring Skye’s cheeks gave it away.
Forest wrapped an arm around Ash’s neck. With a tug, he pulled Ash away from Skye and marched him toward the front of the hangar. The others followed, but Ryker hung back.
“Aren’t you going to join them?” Skye asked with her sweet voice.
“That’s not for me,” he said. “The fans aren’t interested in a stand-in.”
Her head tilted, and she gave him a long once-over with her astute gaze. “I don’t know about that. I bet some of the women out there would be interested in talking to you.”
No stranger to the attention of women, he laughed. “Somehow, I doubt that.” He scratched the top of his head. “How do you handle it?”
“Handle what?”
“It has to be hard, having a rock-star husband.”
“Ah,” she said, “right. But Ash is utterly devoted.”
“That’s a precious gift,” he said, agreeing with her statement. “He certainly is always watching you.”
“Speaking of,” she said, “where is Tia?”
His heart skipped a beat, either from his insatiable need for Tia, concern over her absence, or worry that Skye had managed to put two and two together.
“How would I know?”
“Look,” she said, placing her tiny hand on his arm, “I know what a man looks like when he’s thinking about someone, and I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”
“I’m not—”
“Of course not, lov
er boy.”
“Don’t call me that. It’s annoying enough when Forest does it.”
“Why do you think he does it?”
“Because he’s an ass,” he said.
“Well, that’s true, but Forest is a hopeless romantic. He’s testing you.” She vented a deep sigh. “You know, someday, I hope he finds that special person in his life.”
“A man like him must have tons of girls hanging off his arms.”
“Oh, there are tons of girls who’d like to hang off his arms—and other parts of his anatomy, too,” she said, shocking Ryker with the directness of her words, “but he’s not interested in girls.”
“He’s gay?”
“I suppose you could say that,” she said with another sigh. “At least, Forest finds it easier to be with men than with women. I don’t know who will finally steal his heart, but man or woman, I hope they come along soon.” She placed her palm over her belly and took in a deep breath. “Regardless,” she continued, “you need to go out there with the guys. People understand why Bent isn’t here, but they’re still going to want to see you.”
“Don’t see why.”
“You don’t?”
He shook his head.
“Wow, that’s a surprise. You’re quite special.”
“There’s nothing special about me.”
“Hmm, I disagree. I think Tia would, too.” Without explaining further, she walked toward the small break room, which had been converted into the band’s dressing room. “Tell Ash I’m gathering my things, and I will meet him back home.”
“Home? Aren’t you a little far from home?”
She gave a soft laugh. “Home isn’t a place. Home is where the other half of your heart sleeps. He knows what I mean.”
The other half of your heart?
Interesting words and not something he’d ever considered before, but he understood what she might mean. Since joining the Air Force, he’d moved every few years, and even when he unpacked, he spent more time away from home, either deployed or on temporary duty, than he did at his duty station. He hadn’t really had a home in years. Hell, it had probably been more than a decade.
Watching the diminutive woman walk away, he considered the impact of her words. Perhaps he’d been looking for a home in all the wrong places?
With those thoughts churning, he joined the band at the front of the stage, welcomed into their tight group with a warmth that continued to surprise him. Until a few days ago, the mystique of Angel Fire had made them seem nearly godlike, at least as rock gods, but they were simply regular guys.
“Hey,” Ash called out, “get over here.”
Spike pulled him into their midst, and he posed for picture after picture with his fellow brothers and sisters in arms. He even signed autographs. Nothing like the flurry of Ash’s pen, but more people wanted his signature than he’d expected.
Still, no sign of Tia. After the signing concluded, he couldn’t help but scan the thinning crowd, hoping to see her hanging in the background. When he found a moment to slip away, he ducked out and headed to Tia’s temporary lodging.
The deepness of night had fallen, blanketing the base in a shifting curtain of shadows and light. Spotlights lit up important areas, for security as much as anything else. It had been some time since the base was attacked, but it could happen at any moment. People lived on eggshells here, a false sense of security overlying the very real threat of imminent rocket or mortar attack. He passed others during his trek across base, those taking a break from duty or security teams patrolling the base. They waved in silence, a quiet camaraderie implied in the greeting, and he plodded on.
There was no guarantee Tia would be in her quarters, but it was pushing close to midnight. The only other place she could be was at the medical center, restocking their bags, but like him, she’d been pulled off the team for her in-depth, exclusive interview. Rounding on the rows of converted cargo containers, he knocked on her door.
She opened it a crack and peeked out. “Hey there.”
He stepped forward, expecting her to let him in, but she didn’t widen the gap more than the slim crack.
“What’s wrong?” He reached for her fingers gripping the edge of the metal door, but she pulled them back, out of his reach. “Tia?” he asked, growing concerned.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, her voice tight and pinched with stress.
“What do you mean?” He palmed the door and pushed, but she pushed back.
“I’m serious,” she said. “You can’t be here.”
“What do you mean, I can’t be here? Open the door and let me in.”
“We need to talk.”
She opened the door, but instead of letting him in, she stepped outside and pulled the door shut. He leaned in to kiss her but met the pads of her fingertips.
“No,” she said. “We can’t do this anymore.”
He pulled back, surprised and a little angry. What the fuck had happened in the past couple of hours to make her give him the we-can’t-do-this talk?
“Tell me what the hell is going on, Tia, or I swear—”
“I just got back from Vane’s office,” she began. “He all but shoved UCMJ and AFI violations down my throat. He knows, Ryker. Colonel Vane knows we’re involved, and he’s not happy about it. I don’t know if he has any proof, but he’s not beyond initiating the first stages of investigation. Give him anything, and he’ll bring me up on fraternization charges.”
“You? Why would he?”
“Because I’m an officer,” she said. “The man’s on a witch hunt. Regardless, we can’t be seen together in anything other than an official capacity.”
He glanced left and right, looking to see if anyone was watching their exchange. Then, he reached around her, opened the door, and forced her into her room.
“Ryker!”
“Stop.” He covered her mouth with his hand, wishing he’d used his lips instead. “Keep your voice down.”
She stumbled back. Her calves bumped against the narrow bed, and she plopped down on the thin mattress.
“I can’t do this,” she said. “I can’t risk everything I’ve worked so hard to build.”
He paced the small room, stabbing his fingers through his hair, while he tried to think. “He can’t have any proof,” he said. “We’ve been very careful.”
“Have we?” she asked. “Forest knows. Skye does, too. And, if she knows, Ash knows. You can bet the whole band knows. Who else?” Her voice rose in pitch, tremors filling her tone.
“No one,” he said, making another circuit.
“Warren does, too.”
He shook his head. “Warren is suspicious, but even if he knew, he wouldn’t say anything.”
“Are you certain?”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Warren would be thrilled.” He tipped his head to the side. “He might not think it’s a good idea, but he isn’t a snitch, and there’s no way he’d do something like that to his team.”
“So, what do we do?”
He crouched in front of her and brought the backs of her hands to his lips. “We play it safe.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Home
Tia
Play it safe? That was what he wanted to do? That was the worst thought imaginable, but that didn’t stop Tia from letting Ryker brush his lips across her knuckles. It didn’t stop the flush of heat building in her core or the rushing tingles firing along her nerves. He gripped her hands and fluttered his lips over the inside of her wrists. With a low moan, she closed her eyes.
This man had a way of making her body sing, and she couldn’t help but need more of it. A raw, helpless feeling knotted her insides, twisting and coiling tight. A tremor skated down her spine, and she found herself powerless to say the one word she should voice. Her chest pinched, and her muscles tensed as his kiss traveled up her arm. Her entire body froze and then pulsed with a restless need as he crawled up her body, trailing kisses on exposed skin. Goose bumps sh
ivered across her body and made the tiny hairs on her arms lift.
Ryker’s voice came in a low, clipped wave, resonating and bouncing off the walls of the too-small space. Deep and cautious, he whispered in her ear, “Don’t ask me to leave. One night. Give me one more night before we stop.”
His groan echoed hers because there was no way she wanted any of this to stop.
She gave a tight nod and met his hooded gaze. His eyes locked on hers, and her pulse went ballistic. He did this to her—took away reason and turned her into an adrenaline junkie. Only her fix was him. His touch. His seductive looks. The way he made slow, purposeful love to her. With her heart jackhammering, her pulse kept pace and raced through her veins.
“R-Ryker,” she said, stammering his name, “we can’t.”
“No one saw me come in. No one knows I’m here. One more night. I need you to give me one more night.”
Her heart thundered, and she balanced on the cusp of giving exactly what he wanted. Truth was, she wanted it as much or more than him. One more night before they had to end what had barely even begun.
A storm churned through his eyes, and his jaw became a stony block of male determination. When she gave a nod, agreeing to his demand, his expression hardened. A curl of heat spread through her, knowing what would come next. Slow and sweet was all fine and good, but she could see that wasn’t what he intended. Ryker Lyons had never been a gentle man. A demanding lover, he claimed what he wanted, and she loved that about him.
His fingers brushed against her lips, making her heart sputter. Then, his brick-hard body forced her down, caging her in. His breaths rustled her hair as he kissed her temples, nibbled on her ears, and skated across her jaw. He took his time finding her mouth and dropped his head to nuzzle her neck. Hooking an arm around her waist, he yanked her up on the bed and then covered her mouth with fiery possession.
This wasn’t a tender exploration. He claimed with a bruising aggression with nips, licks, and an occasional bite. He seized her lips with his mouth and chased her tongue with his. Firm lips chased hers in a primitive and frenzied need. His reckless hunger pushed him further, and he palmed her ass, pulling it up and in to the grinding of his hips. He thrust his hard length against her hip, trying to rut with their clothes still on. His groan of desire followed the rhythmic movement.
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