Page 43 of Boomer
Her stomach twisted. Her pulse stumbled. She looked away too quickly. This wasn’t hers to feel. Not here. Not now. But the ache settled into her ribcage anyway, and it stayed.
Taylor schooled her features into neutrality as she approached the gathering, her file still held tight against her chest, like the mission itself could keep her heart from breaking rhythm.
Iceman acknowledged her with a brief nod. “You look like a woman who’s got something for us to do.”
She gave a clipped reply, voice steady. “I do. Precursor movement confirmed. Trucks routed through Setúbal for temporary hold. They’ll load onto M/VRovika, a vessel out of Leixões, likely tonight.”
Lockhart raised an eyebrow. “You’re certain?”
Her gaze was stone. “I wouldn’t be standing here if I weren’t.”
Boomer stood to the side, near the wreckage of the door, silent and still, but present in that way that made the air feel heavier. He hadn’t moved since the blast. She felt his eyes on her. She didn’t look. She couldn’t. The moment her gaze touched his, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep her face from fracturing.
“Let’s reconvene inside,” she said briskly, turning toward Iceman. “We’ll need to coordinate naval and land intercept options with command and MAOC.”
Lockhart muttered something under his breath, but it didn’t matter. The chain of authority had already shifted, and they all felt it.
Taylor turned and walked away, boots clicking against the concrete, spine held straight with the kind of force that only fear could forge, fear not of the op, or the threat, or the politics swirling around their shoulders.
No, this fear lived in her chest where it pulsed like a secret.
She made it ten steps before she let her breath out slowly.
Even then,even then,she still felt him behind her, a man worth time, energy, her body, her heart, and anything else he wanted.
She closed her eyes with the strength of her emotions, tangled, unsettling, and all for him. How could she want that when she was committed? That was the most impossible thing of all.
Boomer leanedagainst the doorframe of the tech bay, arms folded across his chest, one boot crossed over the other. Iceman had told him to get eyes on the breach point and prep demo specs for the debrief, but first he needed answers. He also wanted to know what was up with Taylor. She had avoided his gaze, and he wanted to know what was spooking her. He vowed he would slow this down, but he didn’t want her to disappear on him.
He swallowed hard. He didn’t want a repeat performance of coming home to an empty house with nothing but a set of divorce papers on the dining room table.
Taylor stood at the mission board, organizing printouts, her brow furrowed, one hand propped on her hip, her mouth as tight as her shoulders. She hadn’t noticed him yet. He studied her, a woman who was planning a mission would be locked in, would be anxious, especially with sending in two teams of elite operators, and her own guys. That was a lot of responsibility on her beautiful redheaded shoulders. Damn, her hair was like fire, and his body burned, fuck it burned. But he had to get his priorities straight.
He didn’t clear his throat. Just said, quiet but pointed, “You got time for five minutes of hard questions?”
She looked up, startled, her eyes snapping with anger. Like she’d been expecting this. “What kind of hard questions?”
Her voice was clipped, her accent a little more pronounced. Was it bad that it turned him on? He stepped inside, closed the door with a soft click behind him. “You aiming that fire at me, Red?”
Her face softened, and that snap in her eyes sparkled as she shook her head. “You call me red again, and you’ll need to make sure your back armor plates are in good working order.”
He chuckled. “Who says Germans don’t have a sense of humor?”
“You know I’m always armed.”
“Yet somehow that only makes you hotter, sugar.”
She let out a low groan and shook her head, half turning away like she needed distance. “Please, I beg you. Stop being you again. I can’t handle an op and your damn charm. Have mercy.”
“Since you asked so nicely. I’ll give it a damn good try, darlin’.”
She cut him a dry look over her shoulder. “That was pathetic, but you can’t help it.” She blew out a breath. “It’s not you. I was overruled by my boss, Comandante Raul Esteves, Maritime Operations Coordinator, Portuguese Navy Liaison to MAOC.”
“What did he do or say to piss you off. You know I have assassin ninja skills. I could take him out and no one would find the body.”
That broke the tension and she laughed. “You really can’t help yourself…devastating bastard,” she murmured under her breath.
“Ask your questions before I lose my mind and cross a line we’ll both pretend we didn’t want.”
