Ghost stood there, watching her.
Rachel's gaze traveled down slowly, his shoulders, the way his wet shirt clung to his chest, his forearms corded with muscle and slick with rain. His hands hung loose at his sides but his fingers kept moving, small adjustments he probably didn't realize he was making. She took her time looking, then dragged her eyes back up. Met his stare. "Since you seem to always be observing me, I thought I'd return the favor."
Ghost's breathing changed, deeper and more controlled. His gaze traveled down her body deliberately, taking his time, from her face to where her soaked shirt was plastered against her skin. His jaw tightened.
Rachel's voice dropped lower. "You keep looking at me like that, someone might think you're interested."
His eyes snapped back to hers. "Maybe I am."
She inhaled sharply.
He stepped toward her, closing the distance until she could feel heat radiating off him despite the cold rain hammering the awning above them. His hand came up slow and careful. The back of his knuckles grazed her cheek, feather-light.
Rachel's eyes went half-closed, her lips parted slightly.
Ghost's head dipped. Rachel leaned in, barely an inch. Close enough now that she could feel his breath warm against her mouth. His hand slid from her cheek to cup her jaw, thumb brushing across her lower lip.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
His other hand came to her waist, fingers spreading across her hip through the wet fabric. Each point of contact like a brand. One more second and his mouth would be on hers.
Footsteps slammed against concrete behind them, fast and heavy. "Ghost. Commander needs you. Now."
Rachel jerked back, her breath coming too fast. Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
Ghost stayed frozen for a full beat, his hand still on her face. His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths. He swallowed hard, his eyes searching hers one last time, then dropped his hand and turned without a word.
Rachel watched him walk away, every muscle in her body still coiled tight. She stayed beneath the awning, rain hammering down around her. Her cheek still tingled where he'd touched her. Her waist still felt warm from his hand.
They hadn't kissed. Hadn't crossed that line.
But God, she'd wanted to.
And from the way he'd looked at her, the way his hand had shaken slightly when he touched her face, he'd wanted it too.
11
The Humvee rattled hard over uneven dirt, suspension groaning as the road narrowed into a rough mountain pass. Rachel sat in the back, camera bag wedged between her knees, the strap cutting into her shoulder. Brick drove up front, one hand loose on the wheel, the other tapping out a rhythm on the doorframe. Ghost rode passenger-side, eyes scanning the horizon.
Predator sat beside her, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses still on despite the low morning light. He hadn’t said much since they left the wire, none of them had. They were headed out on a humanitarian detail, escorting supply crates and medics into a rural village tucked along the valley floor.
The convoy rolled to a slow stop at the edge of the village, engines humming low under the steady whir of rotors overhead. Dust kicked up along the main road, catching in Rachel’s throat as she stepped down from the lead transport, camera already in hand.
Mud-brick homes lined a narrow dirt road. Rusted doors. Smoke rising from cooking fires. The faint smell of lentils and charcoal drifted through the air vents.
The driver killed the engine. Rachel reached for the door handle, but it opened before she could touch it.
Ghost stood there, one hand on the door, eyes already scanning the village. "Stay close," he said. Not a request.
Rachel stepped down, boots hitting packed earth. "I know the drill."
His jaw tightened slightly, but he didn't argue. Just moved aside enough for her to pass, then fell into step half a pace behind her as they walked toward the village center.
Torch called out orders as he and Rogue pulled crates from the truck bed. The crates were full of bags of rice, water purifiers, and medical supplies. Brick hauled a generator down with Frost's help. Echo was setting up comms equipment near the lead vehicle.
"Spread out," Ghost said, voice carrying just enough. "Standard pattern. Eyes open."
The SEALs dispersed with practiced efficiency, each man moving to his assigned sector. Ghost’s hand touched Rachel’s elbow briefly, a reminder more than a command, then he stepped awayto coordinate with Torch, leaving her with space to work but keeping her in his peripheral vision.
