“Following you around? You make me sound like a puppy. I am merely a devoted man, a patient man. I have actually been making moves for quite some time, but apparently my moves were not obvious enough to capture your attention. It could be a difference in cultural courtship rituals. You may add intelligent and persistent to the adjective list. Good night.”
She watched him walk silently away, tall and broad shouldered. And persistent.
Her husband had been upset by her choices, angry with her. He’d even asked her to come back. But he’d never once been persistent.
Yes, Samir Al-Shennawi intrigued her. He made her want to learn more, made her want more.
Except how persistent would he stay if he knew she was a trained killer?
***
Jose planted himself in a chair outside the break room door so he wouldn’t miss Stella when she left. He was dead on his feet, running on fumes, but sitting was the only concession he would give himself. Sleep could come later, once he saw her and knew she was taken care of.
The CV-22 was parked behind him, the crew gathered around the back hatch. On the other side of the aircraft, the CIA command center was still in place with screens glowing. The hangar hummed with pockets of activity.
But he could only think of Stella.
She had been in there with the boy and the head CIA dude for over three hours. She needed to rest, eat, recharge. Even knowing he wasn’t stopping either didn’t take away the driving urge to rip the door off with his bare hands and haul her out of there.
It was as if the past four weeks apart never happened. He was right back in those first hours after she’d dumped him, certain she would change her mind, wondering what he could do to change it for her.
Damn stupid.
Focus on the now. Do his job. What he did best.
The light sound of footsteps gave him a one-second warning before his teammates pulled up alongside him. Brick, Data, Bubbles, and Fang were more than just a few fellas he worked with. They were fellow PJs. They put their lives on the line together, would die for each other.
No one knew him better. And right now that could be a problem, gauging by the way they were grinning, ready to razz him. Bubbles leaned back against a pallet of stacked crates while the others advanced.
His buddy Brick propped a foot up on the chair beside him, a stubborn rock-headed dude with a marshmallow heart, especially since he got married. “Wanna play marry one, kill one, screw one? Category? Brad Pitt’s women: Jennifer Aniston, Angelina Jolie, and Gwyneth Paltrow.”
His friend would remind him of the way he’d picked on his buddies for not wanting to join in the word game. Not too long ago, he’d razzed Rocha for being all uptight and in love.
Ironic how life cycled around. “I’ll pass.”
Brick dropped into the seat beside him and clapped Jose on the back. “Not as funny when you’re the one in over your head, is it?”
Fang—which actually stood for Fuck, Another New Guy—crouched down in front of him. “So, Brick, is it true what they say about married sex?”
Data’s eyes lit with curiosity, but then the squadron brainiac was curious about everything. “What do they say? And who is ‘they’?”
Baby-faced Fang scratched his buzzed short hair. “Married dudes who say the sex dries up after the vows.”
Jose cursed. Sex was so not what he wanted to talk about now with Stella so fresh in his mind he could swear the eucalyptus scent of her lingered.
Brick scowled. “Now hold on there, partner. Any man who’s talking about sex with his wife is either a loser or not working hard enough.”
Fang blinked once, twice. “I’m not getting what you mean, dude.”
Shaking his head, Brick laughed. “Can’t coach stupid.”
The shared laughed knocked around inside the hangar’s high ceiling, ricocheting off beams. Familiar camaraderie. Their gift to him in the middle of hell.
As the chuckles died down, Bubbles shoved away from the wall of stacked crates. “The key to married sex, single sex, any sex at all? Foreplay is the road to happiness, my friends.”
Jose looked from one shocked face to the other, more than a little stunned himself.
“Whoa.” Fang whistled. “Who knew he could talk?”