Holiday Heroes (Wingmen Warriors 13)

Ginger cupped his face in her soft hands and eased away an inch. “Why did we never think to do this before?”

“Oh I thought about it.” And much more, but mostly in his dreams. He’d been so set on them as friends.

He’d been an idiot.

She smiled against his mouth. “Why didn’t you say something? Do something?”

“The same reason you didn’t.”

“You’re assuming a lot with that statement.”

He stared at her silently. Waiting. Yeah, he’d gone out on a limb by insinuating she’d been harboring feelings for longer than just this trip as well, but they’d always been honest with each other. He couldn’t see the benefit to either of them in holding back.

The defensive brace of her shoulders relaxed. “You’re right, of course. There were moments I wondered what would happen if I made a move on you.”

“Except you didn’t change things between us either, because we weren’t ready,” he said with a dawning insightfulness.

“And we are now?”

“I’m not sure about that,” he answered as honestly as he could. “At least, readier.”

She laughed low, then sobered. “Sex at our age shouldn’t be this scary. I thought fears about being emotionally prepared were for teenagers.”

“We’re wise enough to know this is serious.” His hands slowed on her back and he took a moment to absorb the feel of her shoulder blades. A simple touch, but the start of learning every nook and nerve. Baring themselves in that way wasn’t something to be taken lightly. “We’ve both been through a lot.”

Her palm fell to rest on his chest, a couple of pine needles from her fingers catching on his sweater. “We’ve both lost a lot.”

And wasn’t that the heart of why he’d held back for so long? The draw between them was intense. Almost too much. Could he—could they both—go through losing something this important again?

All such thoughts needed to take a hike or they would never end up horizontal on that bed together, and he very much wanted to land on that mattress with Ginger. Before he took it further, he needed to hear from her. “What do you want?”

“You.”

Because above all he did trust her, he didn’t need to ask anything more than that. He took her mouth again, not so gentle a meeting this time. No more questions or hesitation.

He skimmed the sweater over her head to reveal a matching bra. He could well lose his mind thinking about how she’d had all this hot lingerie packed away from the start of their trip across Europe. “I never would have guessed you had a weakness for lacy lingerie. You’re so down-to-earth and practical, but then there’s the red camisole, now this.”

“Practical or not, I’m a woman.”

“Believe me, I’ve never been more aware of that than I am at the moment.” He wondered what other luxurious lingerie she’d packed in her suitcase. His pulse hammered hard in his ears as his blood pumped through his veins in double time.

Hank unsnapped her jeans, revealing the top rim of green lace. He growled low, sliding his thumb over the rim of her panties. He grazed his knuckles along the creamy softness of her bare skin, which only served to stir a hunger to feel more of her. All of her.

An urge to have her now warred with the desire to stare at the sexy image of her standing in nothing but her bra and unsnapped pants. Her blond hair was tousled from their kisses, her bare feet with toes still curling and vulnerable, toenails manicured with white tips.>The door swung open to reveal a dark-haired man wearing corduroy pants and a heavy cardigan. “Will-kommen! Gruss Gott!” He welcomed them with a thick German accent, puffing away on a pipe. “We’ve only just started to decorate the tree.”

He pulled them both into a hug before lumbering lazily down the walkway to pay off the sleigh driver.

Seemingly in no hurry, their “host” escorted them into the small abode, tugging the door closed behind him. In one of those odd quirks she should have been used to by now, the agent seemed to shed years from his age as he rid himself of his role as quickly as he pulled the pipe from his mouth and tossed it in an ashtray.

The man’s smile faded. “General, Senator Landis, thank God you’re both safe.” He extended his hand, his German accent vanishing to be replaced by a nondescript mid-American-broadcaster-type voice. “I’m Special Agent Rodriquez. Let’s step into the briefing room to catch you up to speed on the National Security issues at hand.”

Twenty minutes into the brief, Ginger sagged back in one of the kitchen table’s wooden chairs. She could hardly believe her ears even as computers with the best world intelligence hummed all around them.

Could things have wrapped themselves up this neatly in the hour while she and Hank had been driving? “And you’ve questioned them thoroughly?”

Special Agent Rodriquez refilled the three coffee mugs, pulling down a couple more for the pair of agents in the back room. “It’s an ongoing investigation, but the People’s Revolutionary Council is claiming full responsibility for the attack. The Germans have two leaders of the local cell in custody.”

“Then I guess that’s it then.” Ginger took her refilled mug from the agent, her world still strangely off-kilter despite the thaw in her veins and the safety in her new surroundings. Was it because of what she’d shared with Hank? An unsettling thought that he could hold such sway over her emotions beyond just friendship because of a look, a kiss.