“I own all the past seasons on DVD. Cross my heart.” Cuervo drew an X over his chest.
Catriona shook her head. “I don’t believe you. Prove it.”
“Fine.” He nodded officially. “Challenge accepted. Cast of Glee it is. Puck, Finn, Mr. Schuester.” He named the characters with ease. “Marry one. Screw One. Kill one. And listen up in there, Major. You’ll learn a lot about your lady friend here from her answer.”
“Cuervo,” Liam called from the other room. “We’re working here. You should try it.”
“I’m keeping your girlfriend safe, like you asked.” Cuervo leaned out farther into the hall, speaking louder, “You’re a psychology buff right, Major? On Glee, Puck is the bad boy. Finn is the football star. Mr. Schuester is the sensitive type. So who does your lady friend, Rachel, want to kill? And who will she—?”
“Okay. Enough games.” Rachel shot to her feet and patted Cuervo on the cheek on her way into the hall. “I appreciate the laugh and protection. Truly. But no freebie peeks inside my brain.”
Yet as she looked into the dark wise eyes of Liam’s teammate, Rachel suspected she’d already given herself away. She hurried out down the hall and back into the living area.
Sunny stepped up behind her husband and rested her hands on his shoulders. “Wade, who did you pick to marry when you guys played?”
Wade didn’t even look up from the computer at the long oak table. “I refused to participate. I’m permanently benched.”
“Hey…” Sunny swatted his arm, then brushed a kiss over the top of his bent head. “I think that’s a compliment.”
“Totally.” He snagged her hand and pulled her closer for a firmer lip-lock.
Their happiness just about glowed. Not even the current crisis could dim it. It was hard not to feel jealous right now. Her eyes skated to Liam, who was pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course he had bigger concerns. She needed to prioritize.
Cuervo slung an arm around Rachel’s shoulders. “When we play the game, the major wants to marry all the women.”
Liam glanced up, scowling. “Thanks, my friend, but I don’t need your help watching over Rachel after all.”
“Ah, so you care what she thinks.” Cuervo winked at Rachel. “Got it. Officially backing off.”
And why wouldn’t he back off? He’d gone overboard in “protecting” her. He’d made his point by ensuring they both didn’t forget the obstacles in front of them.
As if she already didn’t know how much they both had working against them once they left this place and returned to the real world.
***
Liam stepped out onto the porch alongside Cuervo. With the moonless night and thick sheet of rain pouring off the roof, there wasn’t much to see beyond the cabin. Wind howled through the trees, drowning out the bugs and bullfrogs for once.
He leaned against a post beside his teammate standing guard. “Are you through trying to make me lose my shit?”
Cuervo peeled spooned lo mein out of an MRE packet. “You shouldn’t make your vulnerability so obvious.” He looked at the closed cabin door. “Where’s Rachel?”
“She ran screaming in the other direction,” Liam snapped. “What did you expect, after your little mind game in there?”
“Quit trying to make me feel guilty for stating the obvious. Where is she? Seriously.” He shoveled in another bite.
“She’s gone back to the bedroom, trying to catch some sleep while it’s raining.” He wanted to make sure Rachel didn’t overtax herself. She’d been open about her burnout. Seeing Harris offered up a harsh reminder of just how no one was immune from a breakdown. Would this mission help her return to her old drive, or was it too much, too soon?
“Smart to rest up while she can.”
“First rule of a good warrior. Never stand when you can sit and never sit when you can sleep.”
“You know it.” Cuervo dropped the spoon into the brown plastic container, all humor fading from his lean face. “Are you really going to get out of the air force?”
Ah, so that’s where the kid had been going with all the games and chitchat in there. He’d been attempting to get a handle on what Liam had in store for the future to see if Rachel had anything to do with recent decisions.
“It’s not like I’m quitting. I’m retiring.” Liam pulled out the crackers and packet of processed cheese spread from the MRE box. “The military lets you retire at twenty years for a reason. This job is hard on a body, as my creaky knees can attest. I’ve been in for twenty years. It’s time.”
“I forget sometimes that you enlisted at eighteen. That you even went to college while on active duty. The civilian world is going to seem—”