“I was proud of you, but I think Roxanne was disappointed you didn’t come to heckle us.”
My heart suddenly lodges in my throat. “How do you mean?”
“It was like she kept looking for you, and she seemed disappointed when you didn’t show.”
A grin spreads rapidly across my face. “Really?”
“Damn, I shouldn’t have told you that.”
“How, how could you tell she was looking for me?”
“I’m not saying another word.”
I chuckle as the familiar call of Allie gets our attention. She is practically skipping toward us while Leo follows with his citified swagger. My heart sinks seeing Roxanne isn’t with them, and I suck in a breath so my disappointment isn’t as obvious.
“Ready?” Topper asks, putting his arm around Allie and pulling her to him for a quick squeeze.
“Abso-freaking-lutely,” she says.
“Is this our chariot?” Leo asks.
“Yes, sir,” Topper says, opening the rear passenger door.
“Roxanne … is she?” I ask.
Allie hangs her head before getting in the Jeep. “Oh, she’s?—”
“Here,” a breathless voice says. “I’m here.”
Roxanne trots out of the lobby and throws herself into the Jeep. My mouth quirks up as I close the door. Though what she is wearing could get her into trouble, I’m happy she decided to join. Now, I have to concentrate on keeping her safe.
Topper takes the wheel, and I turn in my seat. “Everyone ready?” Really my question was directed at Roxanne, who is sitting in the middle seat and is pale as the snow on Granite Peak. Allie and Leo have a relaxed posture while Roxanne keeps her gaze fixed on her clenched hands. I turn around and want to punch myself in the gut. I should never have challenged her to do this so soon. She’s not dressed for this and she’s practically shaking like a leaf. Maybe I can convince her to stay behind with Georgia on the shore.
The Jeep rattles and bumps along the gravel road, pine trees zipping past in a blur of deep green and sun-dappled light.
“We’ll be there in about twenty minutes,” I call over my shoulder. Roxanne’s arms are folded tight, her jaw clenched while she tries to act like the bouncing doesn’t bother her.
I nudge Topper, then motion with my head to the backseat. He picks up the cue.
“Remember that time you wired the chow tent for karaoke at FOB Logan?” I ask Topper. “You really enhanced our dining experience with it.”
“FOB?” Allie asks.
“Forward Operating Base,” Topper explains. “Basically a makeshift camp in the middle of nowhere. And Ienhancedmorale.”
“You patched a comms mic into a busted speaker system and forced half the platoon to listen to your rendition of Mamma Mia.”
Leo leans forward, eyes wide. “This actually happened?”
“It was 180 degrees, and we were stuck waiting for the next op window,” Topper says. “I had to do something to create a positive distraction.”
“You blasted Whitney Houston’s ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody’ through the loudspeakers and somehow had a choreographed dance to go with it.”
“I had skills,” Topper says with a proud nod.
“Skills my ass,” I shoot back. “He made everyone pick a song. Some poor guy sang ‘More Than a Woman’ in between bites of rubbery meatloaf.”
“I stand by my choices,” Topper says. “Our CO was not impressed though.”
