Out of Uniform (Wingmen Warriors 14)

“The cops have updated the data in the NCIC—National Crime Information Center. A warrant had already been issued for Lambert’s arrest for custodial interference based on your statement to the police last night. They’ve put a trace on all his credit cards and his cell phone. They’re also keeping an eye on his, uh, mistress. Her phone records will be monitored, as well. I wish I had more for you.”

“You’ve done so much. Thank you.” She hadn’t thought about him taking the other woman along later. At least the policeman last night had the forethought to jot down the woman’s name. Then the rest of Jacob’s words trickled through her brain. “You said you’ve been speaking with him off and on for hours. Did you manage to snatch any sleep?”

His gaze flicked to the bed, with its rumpled sheets and musky air of sex. “I’m used to catching power-naps when we have a long flight.” He cocked his head to the side. “How did the conversation with your parents go?”

“Simple. Everything’s taken care of on their end.”

“That rough, huh?” He stepped closer, a simple reach away, the uniform stretching across the broad chest she’d slept against through the night.

She tried not to let the hollowness inside her echo through to her voice. “They’re not demonstrative people, and we haven’t spoken in so long. I didn’t expect a great emotional outpouring. They’ll take care of what needs doing with Evan’s picture. Wiring me money. That’s all I can ask.”

Indignation snapped in his eyes. “I happen to think you can ask for about anything you need at a time like this. For what it’s worth, I’m here for you, and that includes helping you through this.”

For all of four more days remaining in his leave time?

The words went unspoken between them. Still she could almost hear the clock ticking away their time together. She wanted to believe she would be holding Evan by nightfall, but she had to accept the reality that she could be searching for him for a long while—on her own.

An uncomfortable silence stretched. Morning-after awkwardness? Maybe. She hadn’t expected declarations of undying love, certainly wasn’t sure she could have handled it if he’d said any such thing. Her one brush with love and marriage had left her burned beyond belief.

All past problems aside, because of Evan she couldn’t think beyond the next few hours, much less into any kind of future. She needed to hold on to the hope that with her returned memory, she would find her son. “I’ll scrounge up some breakfast.”

Jacob watched Dee make tracks toward the door, her signature spunk starching all the way up her spine. He hated that his rotten mood had kept him from reaching out to her after sex.

The phone calls—his and hers—had left him frustrated, edgy and feeling too damned inadequate. She deserved better from him.

Halfway across the room, she paused. “What?”

“We don’t have to leave for another hour. There’s nothing to accomplish by showing up early.” He extended his arms. “Come here.”

Still she hesitated.

Dee usually had such a grab-life attitude, he kept forgetting about those tender feelings. He could use the time to gather more information about her past while indulging her in some morning-after cuddling women seemed to need. “We’ve watched a lot of sunsets together.” He nodded to the picture window across the room. “Let’s watch a sunrise.”

At the mention of their ritual after supper, her shoulders relaxed. She inched toward him.

He spread his arms wider. “Come here.”

“Come get me.”

Jacob couldn’t hold back the smile. His Dee had returned, and he’d missed her even during those few short minutes she’d been gone.

He tugged her arm as he sank into the recliner. She curved into him as he settled his chin on her head. A perfect fit. “My ID of the man who checked you in matches Lambert’s description. The search was broad before, but now they’re checking out ferries, bus stations, airlines. The border patrol has been alerted.”

“Two weeks too late. He’s probably already left the country.”

“So they’ll find him in Canada.”

Her bare foot peeked from the hem of her jeans. He smiled, remembering her surprise that first day at finding she had big feet. Jacob cupped the graceful arch in his hand and warmed her skin. “That picture from your parents will be a big help to the police.”

Dee stiffened in his arms, hesitated, then said, “Their photo will be at least six months old. Hopefully somebody can get to one of my more recent snapshots soon.”

Six months old? Odd. His friends all had pictures of their kids littering tabletops and albums, a new batch cropping up almost by the week. “It’s better than nothing until somebody gets to yours.”

She shifted in his lap, her bottom wiggling against him again. Jacob gritted his teeth, damn near cracked a crown.

Her face rested against his chest, her lashes fluttering against his skin. He tamped down temptation, then shot it all to hell by tunneling his hand under the quilt to cup her warm skin. She sighed and sagged into his touch.

Patting her back wasn’t enough. He needed to fix her whole world and make sure no one ever hurt her again. “It’s going to be all right.”