Page 42 of Boomer
She turned the corner and caught sight of the glass doors leading to the training pad, where a crowd had begun to gather. The sound of Lockhart’s voice carried faintly, followed by Iceman’s razor-edged calm.
Taylor exhaled and squared her shoulders.
Time to get back to work.
But her heartbeat said something else, and it sounded a lot like his name.
7
The sun burned brighterthan she expected when she stepped onto the concrete pad outside MAOC headquarters. The light hit her square between the eyes, slicing through the shadows of her thoughts like a blade.
She blinked against it and forced herself to focus.
A small crowd had gathered near the demo zone. Operators stood in loose formations, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. Iceman was off to one side, impassive as a mountain. Lockhart stood opposite, surrounded by his SBS cohort, smug and taut with anticipation. These guys lived for CQC and for door-kicking. Taylor scanned the pad and then she saw him.
Boomer was crouched low in front of the reinforced steel door, laying a charge with the reverence of ritual. He moved like he always did, quiet, contained, unbothered by the noise around him. Precision was written into the line of his shoulders, his focus narrowed to the wire in his hand and the metal beneath his fingers. He didn’t grandstand. He didn’t pose.
He justwas.
Suddenly, everything she had been trying to bury rose again like floodwater.
A life with him. Not just in fleeting hours, not just in the lulls between danger and duty, butreal. Her hand in his. His body beside hers. A child in their arms. A life lived with mutual respect, shared weight, and passion. Oh,Gott. The passion. She had no idea it could burn like this, feel like this, or that she could want like this. Could what she felt burn out?
The thought struck her in the sternum.
She swallowed it down hard.
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Her life was compartmentalized by design, duty first, always. Love was a luxury. Passion was a flame destined to burn out. The idea of someone like himstaying,someone like him choosing her,choosing to build…it was impossible.
But why did it feel so attainable?
She could almost taste it. That alternate life. One where she didn’t have to fight to be heard or diminish herself to be understood. One where desire wasn’t a threat to stability. One where she didn’t have to surrender her soul to serve her country.
The longing coiled tight in her chest.
She set her jaw.
No. That wasn’t for her. She wouldn’t fall for daydreams. She wouldn’t chase what she was never meant to catch.
She moved closer to the crowd, file still clutched in her arms like armor.
Lockhart’s voice cut through the haze. “You can’t make a breach that tight with a charge that small. No one can do that without blowing the bloody wall with it.”
Taylor froze, the weight of the moment pulling her breath taut.
Iceman’s reply came cool and without hesitation. “MyBoomer can. You tell him the radius and stand back.”
She watched.
Boomer rose, the charge in place. He stepped back, gave the signal.
The blast came like punctuation, sharp, decisive, and perfectly controlled. The door folded forward in a single motion, landing with a clean metallic thud. No splintering. No chaos. Just geometry and grace.
The Brits went silent. Even Lockhart.
Boomer didn’t look at them. He looked straight ahead, then his gaze foundher.
A flicker passed across his face, something unspoken, something she felt like a touch.
