“You have quite the tol-er-um, tolerance.” She blinked rapidly when his face wavered.
“Texas, baby.” His words slurred a little, but he flattened his hand over hers, trapping it on his warm leg.
She gave a weak struggle but failed to dislodge him. When he’d left her the previous night, she’d spent many restless moments replaying the entire kiss. Tace Justice could kiss, that was for sure. But they couldn’t happen. No matter how badly her body wanted to be naked against his. She had enough problems without trying to save him, too. She’d always fallen for the ones who needed saving, and it had always ended badly.
At the mere thought, she shivered.
“You cold?” Tace asked, releasing her hand to tug her into his side, his arm around her shoulders.
“No.” She tried to push away and ended up nearly on his lap.
“Settle,” he murmured, tugging gently on her hair.
Greyson’s eyes opened, and he studied the two of them. “That’s why I don’t have women around here.”
Sami breathed out. “You can’t keep going under your current organizational structure.” Whoa. Even three sheets to the wind, she could sound smart. Who knew? Maybe she should drink the good stuff more often. “You have to know that.”
“Nope.” Greyson shook his head. “Soldiers have always carried out wars far away from home, without entanglements or spouses.”
“Yeah,” Sami said softly, “but those soldiers had a home to return to. Yours don’t. This is their home. Once survival isn’t the only goal, people need something or someone to fight for. You’re not giving them that.” The booze was making her too verbal, and she needed to knock it off. “Or whatever.”
Tace turned his head. “What or who do you fight for, Samantha?”
When he used her full name in that slow Texan drawl, she felt like a Samantha. All feminine and powerful. “We’re still in the survival mode, Texas.”
“Uh-huh.” His dark gaze roamed her face.
She bit her lip. “And Vanguard. I guess we both fight for Vanguard.”
Greyson cleared his throat. “Is Vanguard any closer to finding the Bunker?”
Sami partially swiveled toward him. “You believe the Bunker exists?”
“Yeah. Enough people know about it that I believe the place exists.” Grey leaned over and poured himself another glass, noted Sami’s empty one, and filled hers, too. “Don’t you?”
She shook her head and tried to keep her expression clear. “Nope. I think it’s a wild tale whispered about to give hope. If the government had created some secret underground lab to study Scorpius or other diseases, we’d know about it by now. When Scorpius got bad, all secrets were let loose.” Was she saying too much? Trying too hard to convince him? She reached for her glass to take a couple of sips. The bourbon warmed her throat and heated her stomach.
“That’s our Sami,” Tace rumbled, dragging her up on his lap. “Always the realist.”
She struggled and ended up with her butt between his legs and her feet on the couch as he cradled her.
Greyson sighed. “Just so you guys know, the stockpiles you found earlier are all we have left. Attack us for them, and we’ll take you out.”
“We have more people than you do,” Sami returned.
“We have sixty or so trained soldiers, and so do you. The rest of your group are either newly trained or civilians, and my guys shoot to kill,” Greyson said. He cleared his throat. “Speaking of fighting, where did you learn so well, Sami?”
“My dad and uncle,” she said, trying not to sink into Tace’s heat.
“Ah. Your dad wanted a boy, huh?” Grey asked.
“No.” She frowned. “Why?”
Grey grinned. “No reason. That’s awesome, by the way.”
She smiled. “My dad and I understood each other usually. Well, until I discovered boys.”
Tace chuckled. “I can imagine that was tough for him. Did you go for street fighters?”
