Joint Forces (Wingmen Warriors 7)

"Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay. It's not as if I was in love with you or anything. I like you, all right? And I thought if Murdoch was out of the picture I'd better make my move fast before some guy moved in ahead of me. I mean, Geez, Shelby, you're hot."

She gave him a watery smile. "Okay. Enough. Stop it. And thanks."

"Sure." He tracked his eyes back to the Bazooka bubble-gum blob, not a big fan of seeing her pity-stare right this minute.

Yeah, the tree, bus stop, road hurt less to look at, especially now that he saw a Jeep rounding the corner, a guy in a flight suit driving who—the black vehicle revved closer, clearer—was Bo Rokowsky. "Hey, there's my ride. I gotta go."

Chris hooked his arm through his backpack on the ground by the bench and stood.

Rising, Shelby stopped him with a soft hand on his arm. Her eyes went from sad to kinda confused. "And Chris? About what happened just now, you know, with the kiss." Confused changed to—surprised? "For what it's worth, you're really good at it. I mean really good."

Pink popped along her cheeks before she started looking over at the tree, bus stop and road before her gaze fell somewhere short of his face, more like his shoulder. "Well, uh, I need to go, okay?"

"Sure, catch up with you later." Chris shuffled backward toward the Jeep, watching until she got in her car and drove away. His dad's words niggled to the surface, bringing understanding, if not peace.

Right person. Wrong time.

He pivoted toward his ride. "Thanks for coming over, man," Chris called out. "My folks aren't answering at home or on their cell phones."

Bo downshifted to a stop. "No problem. I'm still flying the desk. Just tapped someone to cover me for a few." Snagging the green flight bag from the front scat, he pitched it into the back. "Hop on in and let's get you home."

Chapter 16

"Ready whenever you are." Rena clenched her fingers in J.T.'s flight suit.

His heart pulsed steadily against her fist as she sat with winter coats and sweaters tickling her head. At least they weren't helpless anymore. They had a plan, a chance, hope. The nail file had even helped saw and pry at the persistent knots binding her wrists. They'd kept the ropes loosely in place, would soon slip her gag back up too so their captor wouldn't be alerted.

Part of her wanted to stay inside the closet until the very last second possible to stretch her time with J.T. But they couldn't afford to wait much longer and risk Chris coming home. Already, he must be questioning why his father hadn't arrived. Please, please, please, Lord, let Chris be irresponsible and just go hang out at a friend's house.

Not something they could count on.

J.T. tunneled his fingers into her hair, locating the knot in her gag. His hands hesitated, stroked along the sensitive nape of her neck. "I'm proud of you, babe, and how you handled that bastard out there. We have this chance because of your quick thinking."

"I hope it's enough." She allowed herself one precious last minute to look at J.T.'s face in the dim light, checked that he wasn't hiding some injury from her. His pupils appeared evenly dilated … but his eyes seemed different somehow, distant. Not cold, but focused, steely.

Ready for battle.

And finally she understood about that mental switch of his. How could she have lived with this man, slept with him for twenty-two years, carried his children, and never have seen such an integral part of him?

How utterly ridiculous to think that even though her mind had always understood he served in the military, until now she'd never known the warrior. She'd prided herself on her love for this man, only to find she'd missed out on half of who he was.

Footsteps sounded.

Rena startled.

J.T. lifted the bandanna. "Time's up, babe."

Panic, adrenaline, resolve washed through her like sheeting rain. She wanted to shout for fate to wait. She needed another moment to process these new emotions, just one minute.

Thudding steps grew closer, louder.

Eyes closing, J.T. slumped back against the wall, but with adjustments, angled to spring faster.

The door jerked open. Their captor's body blocked the bulk of the light, only a few beams streaking around him. Even so, spots danced in front of her eyes, finally clearing.

"You." He pointed the gun dead center toward her chest. "Get up."