Ghost smirked as he circled to her side, his hand sliding to the small of her back. "Former military. Keeps to himself. Company's legit. I ran a full background."
Rachel arched a brow. "Of course you did."
"Can't be too careful," he murmured, guiding her toward the entrance. His thumb traced slow circles against her hipbone, the warmth of his touch spreading through the thin fabric of her sundress.
Inside, the space stretched wide, vaulted ceilings, reinforced steel beams, and enough square footage to land a C-130. The air was thick with the smell of engine grease and dust, but Rachel could already picture it finished. Offices with glass walls. A ready room with tactical gear lining the walls. A war room where missions would be planned.
"Still needs work," he said, walking her through the layout. "But the bones are solid."
He pointed to the far left side of the hangar, where heavy doors marked the beginning of what was already being transformed.
"Offices go there. Two corner rooms and a shared bullpen. Ready room beside it for the team, gear storage, briefing space. Downthat hall, we've got the war room. Hardwired, secure. Lead-lined walls. We'll do full surveillance integration once I'm out."
"And when is that again?" she asked, following him as his hand slid from her waist to the back of her neck, fingers brushing the base of her skull.
"Few more months," he said quietly. She smiled. God, she loved hearing that.
They passed through the bare-bones hallway, light streaming through the cracked windowpanes.
"Team locker room's already roughed in. Medical bay next to it. We'll build out the triage setup once I bring in a full-time medic." He paused, turning to face her, his hand trailing down her arm. "Reception area up front, with a clean entry point for ops. And a few bunks off the main hallway. Can't predict when you'll need to crash, and I don't want my guys sleeping in vehicles anymore."
Rachel leaned into him, bumping her hip against his. "You thought of everything."
"I had the right motivation." His eyes darkened.
She tilted her head, smirking. "And what kind of motivation are we talking about?"
He stepped closer, pulling her back against him, mouth at her ear. "The one who looks damn good in a sundress and can't keep her mouth clean when I'm inside her."
Rachel laughed, her breath catching as his arms tightened around her waist. "You're such a savage."
"You love it," he growled, and then he spun her, pressing her back to the cool cinderblock wall.
Her gasp caught between a laugh and a moan, legs parting as his palms slid down to the back of her thighs. He lifted her, pinning her to the wall as her arms wrapped around his neck.
"Logan—"
"I was thinking," he murmured, his mouth brushing hers, "we could christen the place."
"You're not even finished building it," she said, grinning against his lips.
"Exactly. Gotta set the tone."
She kissed him hard, her fingers tangling in his hair as he ground against her. The strength in his hold made her ache.
His mouth dragged down her jaw, his breath hot against her throat. "Tell me you want this."
She didn't hesitate. "I want everything," she whispered, her nails scraping across his shoulders. "The company. This. You."
He growled, hips pushing against her. "Then it's yours."
Ghost's hands slid up the back of her thighs, gathering her sundress slowly, deliberately, until the hem rose over her hips.
He inhaled sharply. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. A low growl rumbled from his chest, his eyes going dark. "You keep surprising me, baby."
Rachel smirked, her arms locked around his neck. "Thought you liked surprises."
His lips brushed hers, then trailed to her jaw, his voice rough against her skin. "I fucking love them."
