Now, how long was T going to stay in that alley?
A few seconds later, she emerged and jogged to join Forest. She spoke to her friend and the colonel for a minute before Ryker decided to join them, falling in place beside Forest.
He gave Colonel Vane and T a salute. “Good afternoon, sir.”
Both Vane and T saluted back, following protocols for being outside. He had no problems saluting T but had plans for those roles to be reversed in the months to come. Images of her on her knees before him, those deep chocolate eyes staring up at him while her ruby-red lips wrapped around his cock, came to mind. Other more deliciousthoughts dwelled there, too, darker passions he hoped to one day explore with the formidable major.
“Forest,” Ryker said before Vane could question his presence, “I’d love to see what goes into the prep behind getting Angel Fire up and running.”
“You said you played guitar, right?”
He gave a nod.
“How much experience do you have?” Forest asked. “I’m sensing something more than a passing curiosity.”
“Nothing on the scale of Angel Fire, but I did my share of guitar work with my buddies in high school. We had lots of plans for making it big, but life got in the way. I joined the Air Force for one thing.”
“Yeah, life has a way of doing that. When’s the last time you played?”
“I play all the time at home. I turn on YouTube and jam with the greats.”
“I can’t play worth shit,” Forest said. “Ash tried to teach me a little, but I suffer from a terminal lack of rhythm.”
“That’s not true,” T said, piping up.
She’d greeted Ryker with a scowl but not yet told him to fuck off. For some strange reason, her hand drifted to her left breast pocket and fingered something inside. He knew all of her mannerisms, had studied her in the field when she wasn’t looking, but had never seen that gesture before. She looked uncertain and thoughtful.
He couldn’t help himself from taking a long, hard look at T. She was a woman who drew a man’s attention, held it, and never let it go. She had no idea how incredibly perfect she was. Even after weeks in the field, her haunting looks entranced him. Her dark olive skin with its smooth and flawless complexion had an otherworldly glow. Even caked in dirt, her beauty shone through. Her featureswere regal, and her deep brown eyes held a fount of knowledge. Arched and inquisitive brows revealed those rare glimpses of humor she held such a tight leash on. Her long, full lashes framed a sharp nose, and her perpetually red, pouty lips drove men crazy with need.
She reminded him of an Egyptian or Amazonian princess. Egyptian because of her regal stature and the way she carried herself with unequaled poise. Amazonian because of her resilience and endurance, which equaled that of most men. Her entire body, the little he’d seen, was tight and toned. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on her, yet she retained a decidedly feminine physique with generous breasts, a narrow waist, and hips a man could get traction on.
With a shake of his head, he dispelled all thoughts of T and what he craved—at least for the moment. Their relationship was beyond complicated. It was impossible, yet he thought about her all day, every day, and through all the long, lonely nights.
He turned back to T and Forest’s conversation. She’d been ribbing Forest about a memory from their past. It had to do with campfires, singing, and Forest beating two rocks together. He smiled at them, hating their easy rapport, because he wished for a little of that with her instead of the stiff barriers that separated them. It was clear she and Forest shared much in their past.
All of his memories with her surrounded rigorous training exercises and backbreaking missions. Fun had very little to do with what they shared, and some memories were downright terrifying.
T had fought hard for her position as the CRNA of their team. A coveted and highly competitive position, she’d beaten out several men for her spot. Her calm demeanor and can-do attitude took the tensest situations and toned them down. The woman had a heart of gold and brass tits to hold it all together. He respected the hell out of her, and that made her all the more desirable.
“So,” T said, dragging his attention back to her conversation, “Lyons has a good question. What exactly goes into prepping for a mega rock band’s arrival?”
Someday, she’d call him by his first name instead of his last.
They entered one of the hangars, and Vane waved them inside. “Let me show you,” he said.
Normally, the hangar would be filled with air assets. Instead of a plane, a large stage occupied the far wall. The rest of the hangar remained empty, but there were stacks of folding chairs piled on hand dollies at the edges. Several airmen were working throughout the hangar. Some grabbed chairs from the dollies and set them in rows. Others were gathered at the large stage platform at the front, laying a floor over the metal support frames.
Forest pointed to a metal framework tower rising from the floor to stage left. “Most of it is boring stuff. Layout of the stage and audience area, checking to see if we have adequate power supplies. Most of their stuff arrived a few days ago. So, we set up the speakers and test everything before their arrival. Make sure it works. Looking at lodging arrangements and mundane crap like that.” He gestured at the tower under construction. “I work with the crew boss to make sure the sound system is adequate. Video, too.”
Indeed, there was a large projection screen being assembled. The men who touched the screen and the tower were not in uniform. Roadies, he assumed, but there was still a great deal of manpower needed to convert the hangar into a venue for a rock concert.
“What I wouldn’t give for a minute on that stage,” Ryker said wistfully.
Vane turned. “We can probably make that work.”
Forest held up a hand. “Let’s hear what you’ve got before making any promises.”
“Well, I think we’ve left Warren in the dust. He’s probably scouring the base, looking for that guitar.”
