Grayson's Surrender (Wingmen Warriors 1)

What did he expect? That she would blush flame red and run screaming back onto the bus? That wasn't Lori's style, and quite frankly there hadn't been enough between them to warrant such a strong reaction. They were just old lovers, after all. No big deal. Right?

You probably shouldn't go there, either, pal.

Lori glided toward him, an official-looking knapsack slung over her shoulder. Stopping in front of Gray, she smiled, a perfect smile if it weren't for the tiny strain lines in the corners of her eyes. No awkward looks or shuffling, just practical and open like the woman.

"Hello, Lori."

"Gray." His name fell from her soft lips with a light Southern drawl, whiskey warm and just as potent. She nodded toward his arm. "Nice patch there, Major."

He glanced down at his patch. Anything Anywhere Anytime.

The insinuation crackled along the humidity- and memory-laden air.

Gray let his gaze slide back to her, strapping bravado on like a parachute. "Wanna test the motto out?"

Her laugh was husky, if a bit tight. "Same old Gray."

"Guess that's a no."

Her chin tipped. "Been there. Done that. Lost the T-shirt."

His arms folded over his chest. "You left it at my place."

"I figured you could use it to shine your boots."

"Probably the safest bet."

She laughed again, the great husky laugh of hers that rolled right into him. Just as fast she had his hormones bombarding the defenses of his reason. Of course sex, great sex, incredible anything, anywhere, anytime sex had never been their problem. But the minute they'd set their feet on the floor…

He'd told her from the start he wasn't what she needed. It had taken her three months to agree with him and leave.

Yeah, damn smart woman. He wasn't what she needed now any more than he had been then. "Are you here as a volunteer?"

"I'm heading the team."

Gray straightened and reassessed her. Not that he was surprised. Imperturbable, competent Lori could manage a full-scale deployment without breaking a sweat. "Really?"

"I'm director for the southeast branch that just opened in Charleston." She hitched the canvas knapsack higher. "What about you?"

"Double duty. Doctor and flyer. Putting all that training to good use and making the taxpayers' money work for them." This wasn't so bad. Keeping it light. Shoot the breeze, catch up, move on. Gray settled back into his comfort zone.

"It's … nice seeing everyone again. But I thought Captain O'Connell was the flight surgeon tasked for this one. At least, she was the one who briefed us on the medical aspect."

"I'm filling in. O'Connell has the stomach flu. She went DNIF, uh, duties not including flying, at the last minute."

"Just our luck, huh?" Lori's gaze locked with his for three beats before skittering away to the others in her group. "I should listen to what Tag has to say. See you later."

Gray looked down the length of the 174-foot aircraft. "Not much chance of missing each other."

Her chuckle floated over her shoulder, dive bombing his senses with a final sucker punch as she strode up the metal ramp into the back of the plane. He watched the graceful sway of Lori's hips as she joined the group clustered around the loadmaster dispensing instructions and walk-around oxygen bottles.

"Yeah, dumb luck," Gray mumbled offhandedly.

Then it clicked, like a one-second grenade warning about to demolish his comfort zone.

Tag trying to hustle him on board until they were airborne.

Toe-the-line O'Connell bowing out of a primo assignment because of a lame stomach bug.