Her early graduation from college and med school attested to that. At thirty-four years old, Monica always lived life on fast-forward while he took his time.
Images blindsided him of how impatient she could be while he took his time stroking her to the edge, holding back. Now, Jack. Now. Her husky drawl reached to him through vivid memories.
Space. Pronto. He angled past her and out of the too damned small bathroom. Fishing in the top drawer, he yanked black sweats free. What a dumb-ass idea to strip down. What had he expected to accomplish?
Her joining him.
He hitched the sweats over his hips. "How did you find out about the mission?"
Monica glided into the room, her walk an intriguing mix of military precision cut by a hint of a sway. She stopped beside him, arms behind her back, palms flattened against the wall as she leaned.
"Joker came in to update his flight physical for immunizations." She hooked a stray hair behind her ear. "He thought I knew, so he wasn't guarded in what he said. Once I looked at what he was being given and did some digging around for a few days, I figured it out. Or at least enough where..."
"You had to be briefed in on the rest." Damn. He jerked a T-shirt over his head, tried not to wince at the pull to his arm.
"Are you okay?"
"Fine."
"Anthrax immunizations hurt, don't they?"
"A little." A lot. He worked his arm in a circle and stayed silent. Snagging his box of Froot Loops, he frowned at the neatly folded bag before tearing it open to toss back a handful.
"You can take one dose of Motrin, you know, without going off flying status."
"Uh-huh," he grunted, munching.
"Damn flyboys, always afraid of medicines and then they're big babies about the pain."
A self-deprecating smile snuck free. Yeah, she knew her job and patients well. "You'll be sorry to hear, but I think I'll live."
He reached for another scoop of cereal.
She grabbed his wrist to stop him, held his gaze as firmly. "That's not funny, Jack. Regardless of what we've been through, you know it would hurt me if something happened to you."
So Monica still had feelings for him. Damned silly to launch into one of his grandma's Kleistos dances over a simple comment. Not that he was asking for anything from Monica anymore, right?
Only fifteen minutes alone with her and already he'd peeled away all his clothes and half his resolve. He didn't know what he felt around this woman, and she didn't seem inclined to give them time to figure it out. He jerked his hand free and ate his Froot Loops before she could seal his bag closed again. And he didn't doubt for a minute she'd done it the first time. If a man wanted to eat his cereal stale, big damn deal. He crunched.
"So, Jack? Do you want to replace one of the other doctors with me, or can you justify adding another flight surgeon to the roster?"
"Not going to happen. Against regs for you to fly with me since we're married." He jammed his cereal box back on the refrigerator, top open. If she didn't want to be his wife, she could keep her cereal-sealing hands to herself.
"You really underestimate me, don't you?"
Ambush ahead. He scrambled for a recovery but she beat him to the end of the runway.
"I'll be in a different plane." She unzipped the top of her military bag and dug inside. "And if we're chitchatting about the fuzzy edges of conflict of interest, you haven't said a word about Blake Gardner's SEAL platoon running one leg of the mission."
He blinked. She couldn't be planning to unpack and stay in his room. What was she talking about anyhow? Blake Gardner?
"The boy's club in action, huh?" She yanked out a clothespin. "You can rescue my sister. Blake can help his old girlfriend. But I'm supposed to sit back and wait when she's my own flesh and blood."
"It's dangerous." And Gardner was in his own personal hell over not being able to stop Sydney from going. A hell Jack had no interest in visiting because of Monica.
Stalking back to the refrigerator, she snapped the clip on his cereal bag and closed the box lid so damned predictably he wanted to laugh. It sure as shit beat shouting.
"Get real, Jack. Are you going to follow me around for the rest of my Air Force career—and make no mistake, this is a career for me. Are you going to work your Korba magic and charm all my superiors into slotting me on only the safe missions? Step out of the Dark Ages and join the modern world."