She tilted her head, searching. “Then why?”
“Because every time you walk into a room, I forget I’m supposed to be the calm one.”
For a moment neither of us moved. Then she took a step forward, closing the gap to a breath’s width. The air was warm, humming with all the things we’d never said.
Her voice dropped. “What happens if we don’t make it tomorrow?”
“Then we make tonight count.”
The words came out rougher than I intended. Her fingers brushed mine—tentative, then sure—and the contact sparked down my arm like live current.
When I reached for her, she smiled and took my hand. She met me halfway.
The kiss was slow, cautious, a question waiting for an answer. The second was an answer.
The world outside blurred to rain and wind and heartbeats. My hand slid to the small of her back, feeling the shiver that ran through her when she leaned into me. She tasted of mint and cinnamon and everything I’d spent too long wanting.
Her breath hitched again, softer this time. She rose on her toes, lips grazing my jaw. “You still think timing’s bad?”
“Timing’s never been better.”
She smiled against my mouth. The sound that escaped me was half laugh, half surrender. I lifted her easily, her fingers curling into my shirt, and the rest of the world fell away.
“I want you to touch me everywhere. I want you to make love to me,” she whispered. I’m more ready tonight than Iwas the other night. Tonight I know what I’ve been missing. After tonight, we won’t say we’ll wait until this is over.
The storm grew louder, wind rattling the shutters, but inside the cabin, it was nothing but heat and heartbeat and the quiet gasp of relief that came when two people finally stopped pretending.
And when her breath caught again—soft, certain—I knew we wouldn’t be going back.
Outside, thunder rolled over Copper Cove. Inside, I let the lights dim and the noise fade until all that was left was her name in the dark. I picked her up and carried her to my room.
17
Julia
The storm had finally broken by morning. Mist hung low across the valley, blurring the trees into pale silhouettes. The cabin smelled of coffee and bacon, that strange combination that always meant one thing—breakfast.
Hawk was already geared up when I came downstairs, wearing black fatigues and a rifle slung across his back, his expression composed but not cold. He glanced up from tightening a strap, and the faintest trace of last night flickered across his face. Not a smile exactly—just the quiet acknowledgment that something between us had shifted for good.
I poured coffee mostly to keep my hands busy, and took a couple of pieces of bacon. “You sleep?”
“Little.”
“Me neither.”
Our eyes met for a heartbeat, the kind that carried everything neither of us could say in front of the others. Then Aaron entered, breaking the spell with the scrape of boots and mission talk.
“Convoy leaves in ten,” he said. “Mile’s pulled satellite coverage over D.C.—Halcyon’s assets are moving into the city under private security. We’ll rendezvous with our contacts at Andrews and go dark from there.”
“Extraction plan?” Hawk asked.
Aaron smirked. “You mean after we blow a hole through a multimillion-dollar defense front and half of Washington wants our heads? Working on it.”
Boone laughed under his breath. “Sounds like old times.”
I set my cup down. “What’s our angle once we hit the ground?”
Aaron’s tone turned clipped. “Reese is meeting a contact at a Halcyon facility near the river. Officially, it’s a logistics site. Unofficially—it’s where the money moves. We intercept him, secure the data, and make sure he doesn’t vanish into another black file.”
