That bothered him more than any of their bickering.
The shuttle bus squealed to a shuddering stop in front of the rental car building, puddles sluicing up onto the sidewalk. Tanner followed Kathleen's stiff back and trim, too-enticing h*ps all the way inside.
Wasn't she going to talk to him? They couldn't resolve anything if she wouldn't speak. That woman had the silent treatment down pat.
He would wait her out.
Not that he'd ever been the patient type.
Just hang tough. The ninety-minute drive to base would likely stretch into a couple of hours, thanks to rush hour traffic.
Oddly, he missed sparring with her. Mental boxing matches were something he shared with Kathleen alone. The women he dated had always been more agreeable, yet something about Kathleen's bristly manner put him at ease and fired him up all at once. One of their lively exchanges would spark up a dreary day.
Kathleen advanced in the line to the garland-strewn counter. One of the twenty androgynous agents droned, "Driver's license, proof of insurance and credit card, please."
Tanner reached for his wallet.
So did Kathleen.
Uh-oh.
He sensed her silent treatment was about to come to an abrupt end. Anticipation churned inside him as it did during those last sixty seconds before take off.
His hand twitched on his wallet. "I always drive on TDYs."
"So do I." Kathleen flung her canvas tote onto the counter and began digging for her wallet in earnest.
"And I'm going to look like a real chauvinist if I say I want to drive, anyway." Tanner tried to keep his tone light, a smile in place, but suspected the annoying tic in one eye might give him away.
She planted a hand on the counter and perched her other hand on her hip. "I'll make this easy on us. Who has the rental car on their travel orders? Military joint travel regs state that's who is responsible for the car. Need me to cite the reg?"
"Ah. The regs."
"They're there for a reason, Bennett." Kathleen pivoted on her heel and fished out a file just as Tanner yanked his orders from his carry-on. She opened the file.
The small flash of victory in her tired eyes said it all.
Damn. More right-seat copiloting for him. Stepping back, he raised his hands in surrender. "Chauffeur away."
At least Kathleen didn't gloat over her win, merely passed her driver's license and military travel orders to the impatient clerk.
Outside, Tanner frowned at the overcast sky. Sixty degrees and drizzling, the weather would make for a miserable ride out. They wouldn't even reach base before dark.
Keys jingling with her brisk walk, Kathleen wove between lines of cars. Tanner kept his eyes off her backside this time. The last thing he needed were thoughts of those slim h*ps taunting him for the next two hours in the car. As long as he kept his distance until she cooled off and started talking again, he would be fine.
Then he saw "it" in a deserted corner of the lot.
Their car. If it could be called that.
How could he have forgotten? The government always opted for econo-class compacts. If he managed to wedge himself inside, there wouldn't be an inch to spare between them.
Kathleen unlocked her door, tossed her luggage on the back seat, then paused halfway in, staring over the roof at Tanner. "What now?"
He looked back and tried not to notice the mist dampening her shirt. "I wonder if they have anything smaller."
Her brow furrowed as she glanced around the lot, cars starting and departing at a regular pace. "I don't think so."
"No, really. They must have a scooter back there. It would probably be more comfortable."