She squinted at him. “Why the sudden change of heart? You’re being… nice.”
A dry chuckle slipped from his chest. “Because I know you’d sneak out anyway. This way, I don’t have to track you down and drag your ass back.” Then his eyes locked on hers, voice dipping lower. “Only rule, stay with me. We don’t leave the wire.”
Rachel grinned. “I can live with that.”
“Good.” He checked his watch. “I’ll be back at twenty hundred.”
She rolled her eyes. “You mean eight o’clock?”
His smirk curved slow. “Nope.” He turned and walked towards the barrack door.
Rachel sat frozen, every step he took pulled at something low in her gut. She couldn’t help but stare at the lean strength of his frame. Her mind drifted dangerously as he walked out of her barracks..
She was thinking about the weight of him pressing her down, his mouth rough on her throat, his voice in her ear. She stood too fast, palms bracing against the desk. It was already too late. Logan Hayes was under her skin and there wasn’t adamn thing she could do about it.
17
At exactly 2000 hours, Ghost rounded the corner of Rachel’s barracks. His boots moved soundlessly over the packed dirt.
Framed in the doorway by low light and desert air, Rachel looked like something from a dream, stark contrast to the FOB around her.
She wore a fitted long-sleeve shirt with a modest neckline, cargo pants cinched at her waist. Hair pulled back, camera slung over her shoulder. But what caught his attention was her mouth, specifically when she swept her tongue across her bottom lip, unconscious and distracting.
Heat shot through him. "All right, let's go." The words came out rougher than he intended. He turned quickly, creating space between them before he did something stupid.
They fell into step side by side, their boots crunching softly over gravel. Moonlight cast a pale silver sheen across the compound, sharpening every line into contrast. Security towers blinked red against the horizon, distant and constant.
Rachel raised her camera, the soft shutter clicking between them like a heartbeat. She angled toward one of the towers. “Where’s the rest of your team?”
Ghost didn’t glance over. “In the shadows.”
She lowered the camera slowly. “Is that supposed to be reassuring?”
He did glance at her then, eyes level. “You have no idea.”
Her pulse kicked a little harder. She didn’t have a comeback for that.
They walked in silence after that, boots crunching soft over packed dirt, the compound stretching quiet and wide around them. Ghost stayed close.
Then, up ahead, they saw movement. Three shadows moved along the southern edge of the guard post.
Rachel kept her voice low. “Guess we’re not the only ones on night shift.”
“Routine check-in,” Ghost said, voice going deliberately neutral.
As they neared, Torch, Reaper, and Predator turned. Rifles slung, postures loose but alert. Their eyes tracked Rachel, then Ghost, then back.
Torch spoke first. "Sector's clear, boss. You want us to extend the sweep?"
"Negative. Hold position." Ghost's tone was flat, command voice.
Reaper's mouth twitched. "Copy that. Didn't realize we had VIP escort duty tonight."
"She's documenting operations," Ghost said. "Part of her assignment."
Predator nodded slowly. "Right. Documentation. At 2100 hours."
"Problem, Pred?"
