He patted down her shoulders, arms, hips, stomach… ass.
“What the hell are you doing?” she rasped. “I’m fine. Jesus.” She looked up at him, breath ragged. Her hair was soaked, her cheek bleeding, but her eyes—damn it, those eyes—locked on his like she'd been waiting years to see him again.
He didn’t think. He just pulled her into him. One hand slid behind her head, the other tightening around her back as he held her there, solid and real and alive. For a moment, just one, the noise faded.
Her fists bunched in his vest, and she exhaled. “Of all the people my brother could have sent.”
He chuckled. “Believe it or not, I was in the area.”
“Of course you were.” She sighed, leaning into his body.
“Let’s go, lover boy. I doubt we’ll be left alone for long,” Booker’s voice crackled through comms and over the noise of the engine.
Patch pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “I noticed you limping.” He ran his thumb across her bloody cheek. “Are you sure you’re good to move?”
She nodded once, stunned and wary. “Twisted my ankle. It’s not a big deal.”
They ran together, sprinting for the bird. Patch lifted her inside and climbed in after her.
They were airborne before the enemy could regroup.
Savvy dropped back against the chopper wall, blood on her hands, mud on her boots, and gaze homed in on him like she still wasn’t sure he was real.
Patch sat beside her, rifle across his lap, breath rough, and his heart pumping his blood so fast he thought for sure his veins would explode.
He leaned across the chopper, took the helmet from the rack, and tugged it over her head, adjusting the strap.
“Testing one, two, three,” he said.
“I hear you.” She nodded.
“Me as well,” Booker’s voice boomed. “Since that idiot isn’t going to make the introductions, the name’s Booker Hayes. I work out of Yellowstone in the International Team Eagle Division. Basically, we take the jobs not on US soil and we do the transport.”
“Nice to meet you.” Savvy held Patch’s gaze like they were stuck together with glue. As if she couldn’t believe they were in the same space. It had only been a month since he'd heard her voice. But it had been five years since they’d seen each other. Five years since the last time he’d held her in his arms. Five years since he’d been with any woman who made him feel like he’d actually been flesh and bones.
“I know that organization I set you guys up with does some interesting things, especially this new branch, but of all the people I expected to see, you’re not one of them,” she said.
“You had an expectation? Would you have preferred Cross or Stone? Because you know I can be a jealous man.” He winked. From the second he’d heard her voice come over his comms ten years ago when he’d been lost, beaten down, and alone in the middle of nowhere after a mission had gone about as sideways as this one, flirting had come easy.
But if it hadn’t been for her, he would have never made it out in one piece, much less with his mind still intact. Patch truly owed her his life in more ways than one.
“Shall I give you two lovebirds a little alone time?” Booker asked with an amused tone. “You can just tap my shoulder when you’re ready for me to turn my comms back on, or if there’s a problem, I’ll just interrupt you.”
“No,” Savvy said a little too quickly. “We’re good.”
When they’d called things off for good five years ago, it had been for two reasons. The first one made sense. He was never in one place long enough to put down roots, and even though she lived in Virginia, she didn’t know the meaning of the wordroots.Their lives were their careers, and neither one of them had any intention of changing. Nor would either of them dare dream of asking the other to change.
The second had been a little less hard to put into words because it meant he’d have to admit how much he cared for her, and he couldn’t do that. He didn’t put his heart on the line and she let him walk away. He had no doubt that she’d cared for him—deeply—but love wasn’t in the cards.
“I want to take a look at your ankle and check you out in general.”
“It’s nothing, really.” She let out a slow breath, dropped her head back, and blinked.
“I know you, Savvy. You fight through the pain. You ignore it. Pretend it’s not there. Your brother told me about when you got shot three years ago.” He cupped her chin. “Let me do my job.”
“Knock yourself out.” She waved her hand.
Gently, he ran his hand down the injured leg, squeezing when he got to the top of her boot.
