The first sign of interest showed in Smith’s eyes. “You don’t trust him?”
Unease made the hair on the nape of his neck stand up. That mission at NASA with a corrupt general was a fluke, damn it. It had to be. He wouldn’t be able to do this job if he always had to question if his teammates had his back.
He stared up at the sky, jets roaring past in a three-ship formation, striping contrails through the sky. He weighed his words before continuing. “I trust Jablonski in the big scheme of things as far as loyalty to his country and holding his own on the job. He hasn’t been around long enough for us to get a sense of his leadership.”
“What’s his call sign?”
“Saint.” An odd one they still hadn’t quite figured out yet, but he was willing to ponder on it if that gave Stella more time to nose around about translations on the cloth. “There are several rumors about how he got his call sign. His first name is Dominic, so Saint Nic, like Santa. Others say it’s because he’s holier than thou.”
“Not popular with the team.”
“I didn’t say that exactly.” But he’d been thinking it. “He’s just—how can I put this?—a really good guy.”
“What about the kid, Fang?”
Jose smiled at the tradition. “The acronym says it all.”
Fuck, Another New Guy. A new guy needed to be watched until he proved himself—or didn’t.
“There has to be more on Sergeant Zane Thomas.”
“He’s been around awhile.” Too long as the newest team member, actually. “It’s past time for a new Fang, but government cutbacks and crap… We’re making do.”
“Stretched thin. I feel you there, brother.”
And what the hell? He’d come out here to divert Smith so he didn’t walk in on Stella. The last thing he’d expected was a warm and fuzzy bonding moment. “Never thought I’d be on the side of a spook.”>“You think I’m perfect?” She laughed darkly.
He skimmed back the loose strand of chestnut hair, tucking it behind the most delicate ear he’d ever seen. “Not at all. You’re stubborn and you have a temper.”
“Then why do you want to go out with me?”
Something so very vulnerable in her voice reached out to him, made him wonder who had hurt her. He tossed aside all trust issues of his own and dove straight in. He wanted her. He would have her.
“I want to date you because when you use that stubborn temper to fight for your students, I am enchanted.” All in, he reminded himself. “Honestly? When you simply look at me, I am enchanted.”
She stayed silent so long he thought certainly she would say no. But then she sighed and leaned closer to him.
“Yes, Sam, I would very much like to have dinner with you. And as much as I fear you will regret it, I sincerely hope you continue to be enchanted.”
***
Stella angled sideways past a stack of pallets in the hangar, Jose’s footsteps even and reassuring behind her. When she’d seen the woman working at computer station five leave for her break, she’d almost broken out into a happy dance. Of all the stations, that one was positioned the farthest from the entrances—and was blocked from the view of Mr. Smith’s makeshift office by a pile of newly arrived pallets full of gear.
She glanced over her shoulder at Jose. “Are you sure you don’t mind keeping an eye out for Mr. Smith while I’m at the computer?”
“Like I would trust anyone else to keep you safe from that cranky dude?”
The intensity in his eyes brightened the dim and narrow space. Memories of the shooting outside the base swept through her mind, of that moment he’d wrapped his body around hers and to hell with anything else. She could still feel the imprint of his arms, carried the intoxicating scent of him on her clothes.
Of course he would protect her while she worked. Why couldn’t he have the same faith in himself that she had in him?
Regrets sucked—and wasted valuable time.
She edged around the end of the computer consoles. “Sorry. Silly question. Thank you.”
He pulled out her chair for her. “Be quick about it though.” He pushed her wheeled office chair closer to the monitor. “I don’t like pissing off Mr. Smith types.”
Had Jose kissed her on top of the head before he walked away?