The Captive's Return (Wingmen Warriors 10)
Page 91
He knew this child was his. God help him, Sara may have thought he couldn't feel his heart, but he could have sworn Lucia's small fist was squeezing it in half right now.
This was scary, scary crap.
Her lashes drifted open, groggy and slow. "Sorry I ate the bug."
So was he. "Next time, call me first and we'll eat them together. Roger?"
"Gotcha."
"In fact, we'll have chocolate-covered ants for your birthday."
She giggled, and wasn't that the cutest sound? Even more so given how close they'd come to losing her.
"Do you know when your birthday is so I can order ahead?" Maybe that was too tough a question for a kid. What did he know?
"I was borned near Easter time. Next birthday I'll be'dis many." She held up five fingers.
Five. The answer had been here all along. Why had he never thought to ask?
Because he hadn't been ready to know. God, he was such a coward. "Get some sleep, kiddo. You're going to fly in a big airplane tomorrow."
Lord willing, Seabrook would have been found by then so they could all leave, because he wasn't setting foot on that plane until he had his squadron complete again.
"How big?"
"As big as a small house. I'll let you come up front and fly with me sometime."
She grinned, her eyes going droopy. "That's better than a horsie ride."
He clicked off the bedside lamp. "Sleep."
She snuggled under the covers. "Gotcha."
Got him? Yeah. She did.
Chapter 10
Sara jolted awake, catching herself just before she fell out of her chair by Lucia's narrow bed—alone except for her sleeping child.
No surprise. Lucas probably didn't want anything to do with her after their argument. Sara braced a steadying hand on the mattress.
She still wanted to kick herself for making the heartless comment. He wasn't heartless at all. The man had a huge heart that for some reason he tried his best to hide behind his "gwumpy" facade.
Saints above, he'd donned that somber face earlier.
After their argument and her shower, she'd gone straight back to her daughter, Lucas predictably silent when she'd entered the room. His steamy eyes, however, had spoken volumes. To think in the past she'd spent hours dressing to dazzle him, and yet his eyes flamed over the sight of her in borrowed running shorts and a T-shirt. She'd been ready to throw her arms around his waist and apologize.
Lucas had wordlessly risen and returned to the computer room with his agent buddies. His silence hadn't fooled her. She'd felt the weight of his intense stare and his thoughts.
Felt that heaviness even now.
She twisted to look over her shoulder. There he was again, silhouetted in the doorway, and likely the reason she'd startled awake. He must have come to send her off to bed for a nap while he sat vigil, when she knew full well he'd barely slept since finding her outside Ramon's walls.
Had Lucas lost sleep before that, wondering if he would find her inside? A bittersweet thought.
Striding into the cubicle, he reached for the second chair and dropped to sit, his eyelids heavy, the dark circles underneath deep purple. Did he ever let anyone take a shift?
Her heart hurt.