"Grow up, Gray." She snapped without thinking. But then that was the whole point. Arguing was instinctive for them. She pressed two fingers to her temple. "Sorry. That sort of remark pretty much negates my thanks. I guess old habits are hard to break."
Gray's hand fell to rest on her knee with the familiarity of old lovers, his eyes gentle as his light squeeze. "At least we've made it a little easier to get up in the morning."
And forget? The heat of his hand on her knee made a lie of his words. Her body refused to forget the gentle rasp of his hands along her bare skin, the caress of his mouth against the vulnerable curve of her neck, the shimmer while unraveling in his arms.
But then her body wasn't as smart as her heart.
They couldn't build a relationship on great sex alone. Heaven knew they'd tried. And failed.
She didn't bother knocking his hand aside. She simply stood so it fell away. "Goodbye, Gray."
Lori shoved away from the seat just as Bronco returned. She clenched her jaw rather than speak words that wouldn't change a thing. Like Gray said, the damage was already done. Just how much damage, she didn't want to consider until she'd slept at least eighteen hours straight and faced the morning alone.
Bronco lumbered into his seat, glancing from Gray to Lori and back again. "Yeah right, you two are history."
* * *
Gray hefted his bag and loped down the hatch steps. Lights flooded the Charleston Air Force Base runway, haloing a neon umbrella in the evening dark.
It was over.
The children would complete in-processing and meet their new families. He would go back to his work with patients and regular missions.
Two days ago that might have been enough. But seeing Lori again had started something akin to a spark on a parachute. Would his feet find ground before the whole damned thing burst into flames?
His best bet would be to haul out, fast.
Except he couldn't dodge the sensation he was forgetting something. A glance around the flight line didn't ease the feeling. Buses crowded the tarmac to transport the children. An NGO worker directed human traffic flow.
No Lori.
Past time to hit the road, he reminded himself.
Hanging out with Lori any longer would only leave him more frustrated. And he was mighty frustrated already. Just a by-product of a year without sex, of course. Not because he'd spent thirty hours wanting Lori and her peach-scented body wrapped around him.
He forced his eyes front and walked toward the crew bus. Noises meshed around him—engine whines and barked commands blended with children crying. Other children hung limp, sleeping against an adult shoulder while military personnel boarded them on the buses.
No Lori and her little Magpie.
Keep walking. His job was done. He needed sleep and a bandage for his leg. No need to risk starting something with her that he wouldn't have time to finish before he moved.
Gray stared up into the bus and resisted the urge to look over his shoulder. He and Lori didn't need more goodbyes. She would have her hands full transferring the kids, especially the one screaming up a blue streak. It sounded as if someone needed sleep as much as he did.
An image of Lori sagging against the copilot's seat flashed to mind. Beautiful, drowsy, exhausted.
Another spark flamed on his mental parachute.
She always pushed herself harder than a normal person. Lori's job wouldn't be complete until the last kid had a safe place to sleep.
Gray planted a hand on the bus and hung his head. Three deep breaths later he turned around. What was one more hour without shut-eye? She'd needed so much more from him than he could give a year ago. He could give her this now, an hour to help out and speed the in-processing.
His eyes scanned the bustling tarmac for Lori.
Shrieks beyond a small crowd increased. Lori would be there, of course, fixing the problem. Gray dodged and wove until he found her cradling a screaming Magda.
Little Magpie had found her voice.
A military nurse in fatigues gripped Magda's shoulders, attempting to lift her from Lori's arms. Like a spider monkey, Magda held tight and cried gulping sobs. Her bandanna-clad head nestled firmly in the crook of Lori's neck. The Barbie clutched in Magda's fist tangled in Lori's unraveling braid.