Private Maneuvers (Wingmen Warriors 4)

"I do."

Yeah, he wanted this case behind him. Had wanted justice—even revenge—since the day Eva had died. Wanted it for every one of these crewdogs who could be flying over Cantou soon.

Except he'd never before thought-out afterward. Darcy made him consider tomorrow when yesterday still consumed him.

Being in Guam again held a time warp quality. It could have been eight years ago when he and Perry had first arrived. Grad students and new CIA recruits before they'd each chosen different paths—Perry opting for low-level agent status to accommodate family life until they'd been paired again for this mission.

"Drinks, gentlemen?"

Max startled back to the present, looking up at the muumuu-clad waitress, their Army CID contact working undercover as an Officers' Club caterer with her son, in reality a fellow operative of no relation. Nobody would guess Vinnie with his dreadlocks was actually a civilian employee with Army CID, even given that all branches of the military had a large percentage of civilian employees in counterintelligence.

Lieutenant Colonel Kat Lowry held out the tray. "Mai tai?"

"No, thanks." Max lifted his bottled water. "I'm fine."

"Yes, you are, young man." She passed Crusty a coconut cup and a grin as she angled closer to Max. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight. Nice reports. You're shaping up, sweetie."

Max pulled a tight smile.

She patted his cheek. Then straightened to flutter a wave. "Be good, boys."

Crusty winked. "Oh, I'm always good."

Lieutenant Colonel Lowry smoothed Crusty's rumpled hair as she sashayed past toward the next customer.

Crusty guzzled from his cup, his gaze fixed on Darcy laughing with Bronco as the big guy whipped out his key chain and flashed a dangling photo. "How many places do you think he can store pictures?"

Max watched Darcy stroke a finger along the plastic-covered photo. Damn it, she should have her own pack of family portraits.

His kid would have been almost two now.

The thought scratched at his insides like the broken shells under his legs. Max tipped back his water and forced himself to swallow.

Crusty dunked a pretzel in his milky drink and popped it in his mouth. "Back when Bronco and I took Wren to the infirmary, Cutter had her hooked up to those antivenom IVs. Cutter and Bronco started passing pictures over her like she wasn't even there." Crusty tossed another soggy pretzel in his mouth. "Bronco, yeah, I expect it from him. But even the prior die-hard bachelor Cutter babbled on about his little girl and new baby boy. Then they passed their stacks to me with big goofy-ass grins on their faces. Know what I mean?''

Max grunted. Perry waggled packs of pictures of his three sons around all the damned time, too. Max always smiled and tried not to think about his own kid who'd never had a chance to pose for photos.

Crusty drained his cup, then tossed it aside. "As if I could tell one wrinkled-faced infant from another. Next thing I knew, I had 'em all mixed up. The two dads looked at me like I'm a moron. Thank God, Wren sorted the stacks and called time-out."

"Sounds like Darcy." Max stared across the small patch of sand at the leggy dynamo flicking coconut milk into Rokowsky's face.

Crusty swiped his arm across his milk mustache. "You gonna call her when all this crap is over with?''

The shells dug deeper right along with thoughts of images never developed. "Damn it, I'm not after your precious copilot who loves babies and puppies."

"Yeah, right. Whatever."

"Doesn't she already have a brother?"

"Yeah, and a whole squadron more of them besides ready to kick your ass if you mess with her."

"This is getting old, Baker." He'd about tapped out his chitchat quota for the day, but knew Baker wouldn't leave him alone without reassurance. Max scrounged up a few more words. "So I've been watching out for her and along the way she became a friend. What's not to like about her?"

"Wren has a way of making friends easily."

Yeah, yeah, Max heard him loud and clear. No need to think he was special, and he had the distinct impression Baker had jabbed on purpose. "Exactly."

Crusty stared ahead, pitching pretzels to scavenger birds. "Those friendships have a way of sneaking up on a guy and becoming a lot more when you least expect it."