Strategic Engagement (Wingmen Warriors 5)

He gritted his teeth against release, waiting, watching her, touching until he saw, heard her unravel in his arms. Her purr swelled into a cry of pleasure so sweet he waited until the last echoes faded from his head before he cut the bands of control, surrendered to a flat spin fall, ending in an explosion of emotion and raw need.

Each slug of his heart taunted him. No, he wouldn't walk away, but this new Mary Elise had a will of steel he couldn't bend, and this time he could be the one left behind.

Mary Elise perched on a bar stool, monitoring the two laptop computers while Danny took a power nap on the sofa. He'd vowed no way would he be able to drift off in the water bed scented with strawberries and sex.

She smiled. She was officially a strawberry addict.The computers hummed reassurance beside her with video views of sunrise filtering over the trees, the marshy beach clear except for the occasional pelican or egret scrounging for breakfast. Alarms stayed silent.

Quiet settled, deep and odd after so long on the run with fear roaring in her ears. For the first time since she'd found that hypodermic needle in her bag, she allowed herself to contemplate a future beyond the cabin. She thought … and came up blank. She knew all the logical answers, but taking the last step toward them seemed a bigger stretch than everything that had come before.

Because of everything that had come before with Danny.

Start small. Think about basics. She picked up an ink pen and pad, paused, exchanged the blue ballpoint for a red pen, strawberry red. Surely that was a good omen to use for making a list of the things she would need to do to reestablish her life. Where?

Charleston?

Logically, yes. She loved Danny. Now admitted she always had. How could she not? She loved the boys too. So why the can't-breathe feeling constricting her chest?

The last step stretched further in front of her.

With Kent out of the way, she wouldn't have any more excuses. She would have to face Danny. Face herself. Face risking forever with someone. She should be rejoicing.

Instead she was scared to death.

It was one thing to dream of a future, another to actually live it. Risk it.

And therein lay her core fear—how much it would hurt to fail with him again. Taking Danny's diamond solitaire off her finger had been hell before. This time her emotions went well beyond the teenage swells of first love that had characterized her feelings for him a decade ago.

Her hand slowed on the paper. She glanced down at her list of things to accomplish, things she wanted to tell the boys. Her hand stopped altogether. How strange. Her list had taken on a more conversational tone than a note written in bullet statements.

Slowly she began adding connector phrases, and a letter to Trey and Austin took shape. She let the words flow into a second letter, this time to her parents. Another to Kent that left her hand shaking.

She was writing, certainly not anything like the editorials she'd once written in hope of shaping readers' thoughts and politics. But words poured from her fingers in a healing balm she'd denied herself as if denying the need for a cure negated the ailment.

Time melded into a stack of papers scattering the counter, even the floor around her feet as she wrote to everyone.

Except Daniel.

Words failed her there. She let the half-spent pad of paper fall to her lap and studied him instead. Arms folded tightly over his chest, he didn't seem to he in the least relaxed. She would have thought him awake if it weren't for the soft snore and the quirky twitch of his booted foot propped on the end of the sofa.

That hint of movement spoke of restless dreams. Her fault, no doubt. She considered nudging him, but he needed the sleep, restless though it was, to prep for possible waking nightmares later outside.

Setting the notebook aside, she walked around the edge of the sofa to sit cross-legged on the rug beside him. Her hand lifted, carefully. She smoothed his hair back, and when he didn't stir, stroked again and again until his foot slowed.

Would he have let her soothe him if he'd been awake? Part of her shouted to quit with the psychobabble self-analysis and grab at this chance for happiness. Once upon a time she would have, except this newer Daniel had reminded her she should expect more from life, herself. Even him.

And if the pushing for more shoved him away again? Her foot twitched this time at even the thought of losing him. If only he would tell her what rumbled around in that thick, dear head of his, maybe then she wouldn't be so afraid of that last step.

Leaning forward on her knees, she brushed her lips to his brow and let the bottled words flow free, an easy enough risk while he slept. "I love you, Danny Baker."

"I love you, Danny Baker."

Daniel forgot to tread, almost choked on a gulp of chlorinated water, before he made his feet move again. "Uh, me, too."Correct response, right? He was going to be her husband in four days. So, sure, he loved her, too.

Damn. Except he didn't know what the hell he was feeling these days, mostly just putting one foot in front of the other. Marching, focused on the steps like in PT training or cadence calls in formation.

Daniel slid his hands down Mary Elise's slick sides, bared by her bikini, leaned to kiss her so they wouldn't have to talk anymore. Laughing, she ducked away at the last second, diving beneath him. He took chase, both knowing she wouldn't get far, but still enjoying the ritual of their water games. Why did things have to change?

He had his application to the University of Georgia ready to hand-carry to the dean, with his father's help—a fact that chewed his pride almost as much as leaving the Academy when he'd reached his senior year. Another administrative mess his father would have to smooth over.