Strategic Engagement (Wingmen Warriors 5)

Darcy stepped forward to lean over the balcony. "Didn't you hear us, Crusty? Most of the squadron's here. Surprise! We're throwing you a baby shower."

Chapter 7

Three hours later, Mary Elise dangled her feet in the pool and tried to soak away the tension of attending a "baby shower" eleven years after the fact with Daniel. Actually, a truly thoughtful gesture on the part of his squadron friends, and she refused to allow past baggage to taint it.

And man, did these people know how to party.Chlorine drifted along the salty air while Mary Elise kept guard over Austin splashing nearby in the shallow end with his newly christened pair of inflatable water wings. Tables and loungers filled with adults and kids, the pool packed with squadron guests bearing gifts of toys, clothes, even a surprise extravagant present of two bikes.

Three couples strayed beyond the fence to the marshy coastline, gushing tidewaters surging against the beach with circling gulls and herons overhead. Darcy and Spike's condo had overheated quickly with the press of people inside until they'd moved the party, complete with Bo's guitar entertainment, to the pool in hopes of cooling off.

Feet swishing through the lukewarm water, Mary Elise watched Danny step under the pool shower. Cutoff jean shorts rode low on his slim h*ps until she could count every ridge of his six-pack abs. Spray streamed down his face, between his defined pecs in a trail southward that left her swallowing hard.

She jerked her gaze away before it followed that water straight down. Geez, how totally embarrassing, not to mention insulting. She liked to think of herself as a normal woman with healthy urges, but also a thinking woman and not an out-of-control bundle of hormones.

As she'd once been around this man.

Gentle guitar pluckings floated along the ocean breeze in a sensual serenade. Great. Apparently, bad-boy Bo had decided to turn his talented fingers to a sappy love song as he sprawled in a chair at an umbrella table. No doubt playing in hopes of luring the splashing hot tub mermaid back to his place.

Couples. Couples. Couples everywhere. Ugh.

At least she and Daniel wouldn't be swimming together half-naked as they'd done so often in his parents' pool. Darcy had offered to share an extra bathing suit with her, but Mary Elise found lazing by the pool the perfect way to end a draining day.

She accepted that some of her lassitude could be attributed to her lack of medicines since her supply now sat useless in her cabinet back in Rubistan. She would have to check in with a doctor soon about new prescriptions. At least the over-the-counter, iron-fortified vitamins she'd bought would help with the anemia that accompanied endometriosis in full tilt.

Her body chemistry might be out of whack, the building pain only mildly numbed by extra-strength Motrin. But she'd lived with the fallout of her illness for so long, she refused to let it rule her anymore. She would enjoy the moment before her life shifted into another unknown direction.

Besides, since Austin had a conniption fit any time she stepped too far out of his sight line, napping back at Danny's condo wasn't an option.

Across the stretch of cement, Danny yanked the shower chain, ending the spray in a trickle. Shaking the droplets from his hair, he strode toward Mary Elise, the loose-hipped grace of his walk leaving her longing to trace the band of those low-riding cutoffs.>Unlike himself.

The Squadron Commander's closed door loomed ahead. Man, the old open-door-policy days of Zach Dawson's command were long gone. Just grit through it. Not the first reaming and sure wouldn't be his last. Daniel rapped his knuckles, twice.

"Yes."

Okay, guess that meant enter. Daniel stepped inside the spacious office, stopping short of an oversize wooden desk looming with flags behind it. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Lt. Col. Lucas Quade didn't glance up from the file in front of him, the subtle put-down not lost on Daniel. He waited. Studied the rows of airplane photos, a C-17 framed alongside a print of the C-141 Quade flew earlier. Cornell diploma. With honors. Figures.

His old man had wanted him to go there. Actually, his father had wanted him to attend Harvard or Yale, but they didn't have ROTC programs, so the prestigious schools didn't even make Daniel's list of possibilities.

Quade closed the file with precision before raising his gaze to Daniel without standing. "Is that how you report in a military manner, Baker?"

Ah, so that's how the guy wanted to play it. Quade's turf, they had to play Quade's way. Just like days of old with Franklin Baker.

Daniel drew to attention and snapped a sharp salute. "Captain Baker reporting as ordered, sir."

Quade returned the salute, no invitation to sit on the sofa followed like with the past commander. This guy wouldn't be pulling a secret stash of Little Debbie cakes out of his desk drawer to share either. Yeah, he'd received a few "chats" from Dawson about how to better balance the secrets ops Daniel pulled with the commander's need-to-know basis. Chats, not this standing-at-attention bulk.

"Baker, I'm sure you realize why you're in here."

"Yes, sir." He kept his eyes on the flag just behind Quade and consoled himself with the fact that a squadron commander usually only held the position for eighteen months to two years.

About how long it felt like this "chat" would last.

The commander jabbed a finger on the closed file with a red cover sheet declaring "Secret." "You're lucky you covered your ass planning this one."

Daniel didn't bother making excuses. Air Force Academy days had picked up where Mary Elise left off in drilling some caution into him.

Quade continued, "I don't question the mission's importance. And I know damned well there are times you can't be straight-up about where you're going. But, Captain, that was my plane and those were my flyers. No matter how much paperwork you filed or how many strings you pulled, their safety is still on my shoulders. You should have placed a courtesy call to me."