Page 24 of Boomer
She clenched her jaw, trying to will away the memory of his voice, the heat of his gaze, the feel of his palm against her back.
Gott.
If he’d made it to Lisbon, she wouldn’t have taken him sightseeing. No, she would’ve been all over him. Climbing him like a Kettergerüst…what do Americans call it? A jungle gym? Yes, within an hour of him landing it would have been all over.
Sightseeing?Fuck that.
There was way too much to see, touch, hear, smell, and taste right there, withhim, to waste time on monuments and cobblestones. She wouldn’t have been thinking about tiledrooftops or historic cafés. She’d have been thinking about his hands, his mouth, the sound of her name in that voice when he came. She had to squeeze her thighs together again. From what she could see in that tent in his terry, he would be more than a mouthful. She clenched her jaw. Damn, she wanted to taste him
Do. Not. Go. There. You.Idiot.
She hated that she knew it.
Just her, wrapped around him, discovering the geography of skin and heat and want, andGott, she would’ve loved it. Every glorious second of it.
She hated that she wanted it. There was no denying it now.
She hadn’t just wanted him.
She’d been ready toburnfor him.
But sex with him wouldn’t be just physical. No. What he’d said to her about her being too young, too smart, too damn good…for him? That made her heart ache to understand where he was coming from. Did he think he wasn’t what? Worthy? That took a wrecking ball to her heart. There was so much there, so much she didn’t know, so much she hungered to know.
The only thing holding her back was her professionalism.Right, a little voice said.That’s bullshit. You can try to rationalize it, but it’s nothing but fear.
Taylor had been taught in school, hammered about Germany’s postwar ethos: dignity through restraint. Power through order. She was raised on precision. On accountability. On systems that promised justice if you were smart enough to work within them. She learned how to code-switch, formal when necessary, disarmingly direct when advantageous. Emotion? Privately managed. Publicly weaponized only when absolutely necessary. She was rooted in a quiet exactness. Not to shout about it, but to execute with elegance and efficiency.
She had a box she used. Emotions stayed in their lane and got locked away. When she went into law enforcement, it wasall about proving herself, and she wasn’t going to dilute her message by getting involved with anyone related to her job. Romantic vulnerability was themostdangerous kind. The cost of trusting the wrong man was too high, and it would be a weapon to be used against her. One comment that she slept her way in was all it would take, and it would circulate with ease.
Boomer felt like a risk she couldn’t control. A man with too much emotional insight and too little ego. He had simply told her how he felt without asking anything of her. Not one freaking thing.
Her heart lurched as she stared at herself in the mirror. It was true. She was afraid, and she was using his not showing up as ammunition to keep him controlled. Her mantra: Staystrong → stay silent → stay alone → stay in control → repeat.
For her, the only safety she’d ever trusted was the kind shemadeherself. Vulnerability led to manipulation. That need was a weakness someone would use against her. But Boomer had just taken that edict and turned it around completely. He’d been vulnerable with no manipulation. Just the baring of his heart to her without expecting a thing in return.
How did a person deal with such a man?
He didn’t demand she open up. Never asked her to let down her guard. Instead, he showed her his truth through his agonizing words.
She pushed away from the sink, ashamed of how she’d treated him, especially after she found out he’d been deployed. She knew how he felt. He’d just told her.
Blew her fear that if she let anyone in, she would lose control, and they would use it against her.She’d believed that vulnerability equaled powerlessness. But she’d just had her foundational belief challenged by a man who had just shown her what power in vulnerability looked like.
She couldn’t tear her heart away.
An hour later,Taylor walked into one of the two briefing rooms, the largest one, concrete walls, long steel table, flat screens already lit. Two flags hung on the far wall: EU and NATO. A subdued seal of MAOC (N) framed the monitors.
Taylor took a seat and sat straight-backed near the head of the table, tablet in hand, face calm, trying to pretend her blood wasn’t still simmering beneath her skin, thankful for the cold room in which she had to deliver information without emotion. She’d just melted down in her quarters and knew the extent of her resistance to Boomer. Knew that they couldn’t move into this mission until she cleared the air.
Light pooled from the overhead fluorescents, casting sterile shadows across the long conference table. One wall was dominated by a tactical display, the digital map of the Portuguese coast studded with tracking dots and pulsing threat markers.
Anna Graham entered smoothly, all confidence and black tacticals, and took position near the screen.
Men started to filter in. Several of the Brits, Boomer’s teammates, some of them giving her looks she couldn’t decipher. They weren’t exactly hostile…but the welcome had cooled in their eyes.
Boomer walked in, and she expected him to avoid eye contact. But that man…damnthat freaking man, met her gaze unflinching, with a bruised quality that almost made her cry. There was no push there, no anger, no subterfuge that she normally got from men who wanted her. Bash included. It was his bullshit that had made her nix any kind of romance between them, then later her feelings had cooled until he was nothing buta best friend. Not exactly something he accepted, but that was too bad. She’d made herself clear.
Boomer could not be compared to Bash. There was no comparison. He was unique, in a league of his own. He thought he didn’t measure up to her.Gott. That was so far from the truth. He took a seat next to Breakneck, who was watching the exchange like he was Boomer’s chaperone.
