Page 72 of Secret Mission

“About what Justice must be thinking right now.”

“That he wishes he had a girl.”

This makes me giggle. “What? He can’t be single.”

“He’s holding out.” Truck’s laugh rumbles quietly between us.

“Oh, that laugh makes me wonder exactly what he’s holding out for.”

“Justice has a type…and he’s got all this figured out in his head. But I keep telling him, that’s not how it works.”

Certainly, being dragged off a cliff and swept away with a tall, reckless stranger wasn’t my idea of how it would work. Not that I’d allowed myself to dream about that.

Survival has a way of narrowing your focus to dodging the bad guys.

But I’m seriously intrigued by this conversation.

Trailing my fingers over the planes of his bare chest, I ask, “Do you have a type?”

“Tall, blonde archeologists who wear cargo pants and boots without panties.”

Props to him. “That was slick, hotshot.”

“I’m good like that.”

This teasing side of Truck is another delicious layer. He’s so yummy and irresistible, it’s no wonder I crave him like dark chocolate and sunshine and things I didn’t even know I could crave.

“So, what’s his type?”

“Curvy, blonde, sweet, and ready to stay home and bake cookies, or some craziness like that. I think he fell in love with some foodie influencer only to find out she was artificial intelligence. Now he’s on the hunt for a real woman like her.”

“Are you serious?” I balk. “An AI social media influencer is a real thing?”

It’s his turn to balk. But his chuckle is warm. “Where have you been hiding?”

“Under a rock?” I shrug. “I mean, I dig in the dirt for a living. Which reminds me, I need to check on a sample I sent to the lab.”

A chill settles in. My mood darkens until I’m cold inside and out even though I’m wrapped in his warmth.

Letting my worry lace my words, I say, “It’s not good. I’m really worried about it, actually. That sample could be the key toeverything. The findings could be explosive. I don’t know what I’m going to do now that all of this has happened.”

“I know what you’re going to do.” He shifts his long leg, looping it around mine, with a rumble, he pulls me against him. “Now you let my team take care of everything. We’ll keep you safe and get to the root of whatever is going on.”

It’s too good to be true. But look where I am. Never in my wildest dreams would I have believed that I’d have a strong, recklessly protective former SEAL in bed next to me.

A little voice whispers,Let go, let the good in.

With a shiver, I close my eyes and listen to him breathe.

This is real. He’s real. I’m not alone.

We rest in silence for a while, his fingers drawing lazy, warm circles on my arm, my hand resting over his heart. It's a peaceful moment, a sanctuary from the world outside. But I’m smart enough to know it won't last. What goes up must come down.

A point proven when the phone on the stand beside the hospital bed rings. As if the universe was listening to my worried thoughts.

That shrill mechanical jangle can’t be good for hospital patients. It shoots adrenaline through me like a bullet.

Sitting up quickly, I reach for the handset as my breath catches. "That could be news about your brother."

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