From behind her, she heard grumbling.
“I hate her,” Ivan muttered. “I hope she gets chafing from her britches.”
That made her laugh.
That was the most Ivan thing he could say.
Behind him, Uriel wasn’t as cranky, but he wasn’t exactly happy.
“I could be in bed getting cardio,” he admitted. “This isNOTthe cardio I’d be getting—for the damn record.”
That made her laugh even more.
God.
She loved her Marines.
They were funny and kept her sane—most of the time.
“We’re almost there,” she admitted. “You’ve got this,” she added, as she was dripping sweat, but the demons were left in the dust four miles ago.
All three men hoped so.
They switched out each day that she ran because unlike her, they didn’t find any joy in this nonsense. The last time any of them had to run, other than with her, was more than likely carrying a pack in training.
Marines liked to creep.
And do dirty deeds in the cover of darkness.
This was neither.
Oh, don’t get it wrong. Marines could run long distances, but that wasn’t what these Marines preferred.
Give them some trees and hide-and-seek, and they were in their glory.
Bet.
On.
It.
As they saw the cabin ahead, the vehicle that had been behind them, driven by Saint, pulled alongside of them. He rolled down the window.
“Nice ass!” he shouted, making Elizabeth blow him a kiss.
That amused him.
“I meant the Marine next to you, nut. I’m not checking out that ass. You’re ridiculous.”
That made her laugh because she had been well aware who he had been talking to, but she liked to be entertaining.
Sue.
Her.
“Damn. I’m losing my ability to get gay Marines to hit on me,” she joked, as they ran to the porch and checked their time. “I need to reevaluate my life.”
Oh, that was the damn truth, too.
