"You know I will."
Only an hour from now and she would be entering preflight briefs herself, readying for takeoff in the medivac. Then landing at the terrorist compound's airfield to treat and load hostages and wounded.
Monica. In a combat zone. All the more reason to make damned sure the place was secured and locked down tight. He understood intellectually that military husbands and wives now entered combat together. The new face of the modern military. That didn't make any of it one damned bit easier.
Big picture war plan, this would go fast, efficient. Once the SEALs secured the hostages, the Rangers would be dropped in and have the whole place secure in twenty minutes. Tops. But there was still the wild card of the lone straggler hiding out in a hole, ready to pop a passing soldier or to launch an infrared missile at a landing plane, refusing to surrender even with certain death staring him in the face.
Shit. He had to quit thinking like this and get his mind on his job. "Go grab something to eat. It's going to be a long night and who knows when you'll get another chance."
"I'm heading to the mess hall after this." She nodded, but didn't move.
"I'll see you soon." He tore himself away from the temptation of hanging around for more of Monica.
"Jack!"
She wasn't going to make this easy for him. And he needed easy today or he'd never make it through worrying about her. He couldn't go deep with heavy thoughts tonight. Stakes were already high enough for him when it came to this woman.
He pulled a smile and pivoted back to her. "Come on, Mon, this Casablanca stuff isn't your style."
Biting wind plastered her flight suit to her body, streaked her hair behind her, leaving everything about her there for him to see. Her shape. Her face.
Her fear.
Still, she boldly strode toward him. "I just figured since the secret's out about us being together again, there's no reason to hide anymore."
"Hide what?"
"This."
Looping her arms around his neck, she urged his head down to hers, kissed him, full, hard, thorough, with open mouth and open emotions, all that fear and worry for him pouring from her into him. And just that fast—or was it longer but simply never long enough with this woman—she pulled away.
Monica backed from him, gusts lifting her hair and her words. "I could really love you someday, Jack Korba. So cover your ass and make sure you're still around for us to find out."
She hesitated at the door, her eyes all over him as if to imprint a last image before she slipped inside, her hands already gliding up to start securing her hair. The door eased shut, closed her away from him.
"Hey, uh, Cobra?" Rodeo's call from the back of the military truck yanked him back to the present. "You about ready to roll, dude?"
Hell, how long had he been standing around like an idiot? Jack jogged the last few feet, the truck chugging exhaust into the dusky night, and vaulted into the back to sit beside his copilot.
"Damn, Cobra." Rodeo inched over on the bench seat. "That was one helluva goodbye. Guess she forgave you for spilling the beans to me about the Elvis chapel."
"Seems so."
Rodeo frowned. "Uh, are we okay? You and me? I really didn't mean anything with the dedication. That lady of yours must have read something on my face or whatever. Chicks have a way with that laser look. It's like they've got some kind of interuterine lie detector."
A smile twitched Jack's face. "Monica would pin you in a heartbeat for a sexist comment like that." The truck jolted forward. "But, yeah, man, we're okay. Although I figure you owe me a beer next time we're in Ireland."
"Done deal. And for what it's worth, I swear I haven't told a soul about, you know, the Elvis deal." The truck jarred along potholes and ruts. "But even if folks don't know all the details, I'm glad at least you've quit trying to hide your relationship."
"Yeah, great to have things out in the open now." Great, my ass.
"Isn't love grand?"
Love? Of course, right. She'd said she could love him. He should be punching the air with a victory shout. This was exactly what he'd hoped for with his strategy of using their time together. He'd won.
Oh, damn. Realization hit. He hadn't said it back.
He scoured his memory and...no. He really hadn't said it. Dumb ass. Hell, he'd told her he loved her at least a hundred times before they'd tied the knot in Vegas. But he'd held the words inside ever since.