She sank into her seat again, and a moment later, the plane hit a pocket of turbulence. His head slipped sideways, dropping onto her shoulder with solid weight, all that dark, silky hair sliding over her shoulder. His face in rest was softer, but not any less devastating. She focused on his mouth helplessly, firm lips, that enticing bow she wanted to lick, suck, devour.
Her pulse stuttered. She froze, this reckless feeling came over her, and against all better judgment, let the back of her hand drift, just barely, until it brushed the warm length of his forearm. Heat radiated into her skin, through her bones, until she thought she might combust.
She told herself it was nothing. Just gravity, just warmth, just fatigue. But deep down, she knew it was a lie. Ancestors help her. She was such a stupid, stupid fool.
When Bear woke, the first thing in his lungs was her scent. He breathed deep, eyes opening to find Bailee asleep against him, her arm pressed to his, surely by accident in the cramped metal tubing seats of the C-130. He didn’t move. Just let himself indulge as the plane banked and the pilot’s voice crackled overhead.
“We’re about to land, folks.”
She stirred, pulling her arm back, slow, deliberate, and cleared her throat. Her lashes lifted, her eyes a sleepy, smoky blue. “We’re home?”
He nodded. “Just about to land.” Something sharp and unwanted stabbed through his chest. He forced it down, kept his voice level. “We usually hit the watering hole.”
She zipped her bag, her voice catching just enough to tell him she felt the same heat. “I have a lot of work to do.”
“Come on, take a break. It’s a group thing. All the wives will be there. I bet you miss seeing them.”
Her eyes lit up. “I do. They brighten up a room.” He nudged her shoulder, and she swallowed hard, then let out a soft sigh, “You buying?”
His heart jumped as the plane landed, easy and smooth, the engines roaring. “First round, woman. You probably make more than we do.” He raised his voice over the noise.
She chuckled. “Hmm. Taking the fifth.” Then she shot him a steely glance. “So, second round on me.” Her eyes stayed on him, lingering. “You play pool?”
The ramp started down with a groan. Blitz hefted his backpack and grinned. “Watch out. Bear is silent and deadly—operating, games, probably with everything.”
Bailee’s brows dipped. She huffed. “Perish the thought.”
The sound jolted through him. Heat from her, straight into his skin, aching and raw. For the first time, he wondered if he could push it far enough to get a dance out of her, press that firelit body against his and find out if the sparks would burn them both alive.
An hour later, Bear shouldered through the press of bodies, the familiar noise of the watering hole wrapping around him like a well-worn jacket, laughter, clinking bottles, the jukebox humming under the chatter. He’d left Flint at the base kennel, giving the dog a chance to sleep before bringing him home tomorrow. The delay cost him, and for a moment, he thought he’d regret it.
Until he spotted the wives.
Warmth filled him, easing the tension that never quite left his shoulders. He liked these women, strong, sharp-tongued, funny as hell, especially their newest addition. Dr. Everly Quinn. Doc Sunshine. She and Zorro had been through the wringer, but they’d made it. His gaze dimmed for a moment. Zorro had been hit, too, and Doc Sunshine had operated on him. He’d never forget the brutal way she’d cut down the bastard before he could finish Zorro off. Later, Zorro had broken out of the hospital, flown across the world, and laid it all down for her. Happy ending, hard won.
The wives’ energy meshed with the team’s rough edges in a way that always felt like home. Right there among them, like she belonged, was Bailee.
She already had a bottle in front of her, condensation sliding down the glass, her fingers resting loose on the neck. She was listening, her blue-shot-with-steel gaze tracking the conversation, but Bear caught it, the smile that didn’t quite reach. Distant. Somewhere else.
As he stepped closer, the table broke into laughter. Everly leaned in, mischief flashing. “So, after our first time together, I see this wad of soggy brown material, and I ask Zorro what they were and why they were wet.”
Bear’s stomach clenched. UDT shorts. Rio. His gaze cut to Bailee, pulse tightening.
She was still smiling, but not at Everly’s story. Her eyes had gone shadowed. Pale. Damn if it didn’t make him want to know exactly why.
Zorro grinned. “She looked at them like they were alien goo.”
“Seriously, babe,” Everly said, “I was at a loss.”
“UDTs,” Helen said. “Oh, yes…the infamous and the tiny.”
“Tiny bordering on barely there,” Izzy added, shooting a look at Gator. He grinned as wide as Zorro.
“He proceeds to tell me they’re Navy issued. I was completely skeptical.”
“We’ve all gotten that line,” Bree muttered.
“Skeptical?” Zorro shook his head. “She was downright dubious. When I told her Bear and I swam in them, she wasn’t amused.”
