She sat up, cross-legged. "There's a lot I don't know or understand about you. I'm looking forward to finding out all the little details, but..."
"But... ?" He was watching her with such tenderness in his eyes.
"You told me it was okay to cry," she said. "I just want to make sure that you know those same rules apply to you. I'm here if you need me. Whenever you need me."
His eyes got even softer. "Thank you, baby," he said. "I do know that."
Joan nodded. "Good." Next tough topic. "How are we going to deal with a bicoastal marriage?" she asked. "I mean, how are we really going to make this work?"
"Your grandparents did okay," Mike pointed out. "And they didn't even get to see each other for over a year."
"They were fighting a war," Joan said.
"So are we," he said quietly.
She looked at him and didn't try to hide what she was feeling. She knew he could see fear in her eyes. "I'm afraid that you're going to die."
Mike nodded. "I'm afraid that you're going to die, too," he said. "There's lots of danger in this world. Do you know it's safer to be a SEAL than it is to ride in a car on a highway? More people die each day in traffic accidents than the entire list of SEAL casualties starting with Vietnam."
She had to smile. "Did you, like, look that information up on the Internet because you knew I'd freak out about this?"
"Actually, I was guessing," he said. "But it's got to be true. The number of SEALs who have died in combat and in training combined is very small. We're hard to kill, Joan."
She traced the edge of his bandage with her ringer. "I know for a fact that you're not bulletproof."
"No," he said. "We're not. We're just really good."
"So how do we deal with this marriage thing? And don't say phone sex."
"I know you like things to be planned out," Mike told her, "but yesterday was a classic example of the way we're trained to think on our feet. I think we'll be able to do the same with our marriage. If it's working, keep doing it; if it doesn't, we stop and do something else." He reached for her, pulling her on top of him. "And the first thing we should do is make love as often as possible whenever we're together."
She laughed. "I'm serious."
He kissed her. "So am I. We can have all of our conversations on the telephone, so that when we're finally together we don't have to talk—we can just make love nonstop."
She smiled. "Yeah, like I could ever shut you up. You talk more during sex than any other man in the entire world."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"That's ... a new one for me. Am I... Is it obnoxious?" He was actually worried.
Joan had to laugh. "Well, gee, let me think. You tell me how much you love me. You tell me how hot you think I am. You tell me how badly you want me. You ask me to marry you... Nah, it's not obnoxious."
He kissed her again, and she reached for a condom.
"Kind of puts a whole new spin on, 'Baby, we need to talk,' " she said as she handed it to him.
The smile Michael gave her was worth at least a thousand words.
~~ The End ~~
Acknowledgements
Thank you to Kathy Lague, Goddess of Knowledge, for emergency research help. Your assistance was hugely appreciated.
Thanks to my first draft readers: Deede Bergeron, Lee Brockmann, Patricia MacMahon, and Joan Kuhlman, all of whom bravely volunteered to throw themselves on the first draft of this book and read it (sometimes even twice!) from beginning to end in a very short amount of time.
Warmest thanks to my editor, Shauna Summers, and to my agents, Steve Axelrod and Damans Rowland. Without you, this book would not have been possible.
And thanks, of course, always and forever, to Ed, who gets to live through and clean up after the birth of each book. I love you!
Any mistakes I've made or liberties I've taken are completely my own.
Troubleshooters 05 Into The Night Page 48
