Page 82 of Luck Be Mine
Her. Him. Together. These moments lived in her dreams.
Moaning, she hit the edge and let the flash of ecstasy spread from skin to heart.
Wrapping her legs around him so he couldn’t move, she closed her eyes on a deep sigh.
He collapsed, breath caught in his own release. “Jesus, Cait,” he gasped. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Welcome home.” His weight on top of hers soothed.
He reached to turn out the lights and held her close until sleep came.
§§§§§§§§§§
◊When Backup Shows Up ◊
Hunt tightened his shoelaces and silenced his personal phone. Cait remained asleep when he kissed her forehead and slipped out. Just as well. He could see the questions in her eyes, but he had no answers he could give her. The woman saw too far inside him, and he wasn’t ready for an inspection. Stemmons’s injury was rubbing him raw, and he needed to sort out the reasons for himself.
The sun hadn’t yet spilled its red and orange across the horizon. This stretch of beach suited him: quiet, smooth sand, ebbing tide, and training classes elsewhere on base.
He’d woken in the pitch-dark lull of early morning with Cait draped on top of him. The temptation to roll her beneath him was strong, but sex wouldn’t cure what haunted him. He needed a ten-mile run to exorcise the sense of ambush ticking in his brain.
Years of missions, good, bad, and bloody, waited to replay. Join the Navy and see counterterrorism ops across the globe. That’s what the posters should say. Get schooled in transnational terrorism, migration crises, border disputes, and arms, drug, and human trafficking. See men die up close. It’ll be fun.
The cumulative effect of a gray-zone life shredded his healthy mind and triggered difficult memories and turbulent emotions in no particular order – just color, noise, blood, and ghosts.
Hunt closed his eyes and focused on his stretches, thankful Yeoman Ellsworth would manage the office for awhile. Ready to run, he groaned. Doogie and Brennan came jogging across the empty shore’s edge toward him, obviously in a warm-up, too.
“I tried to call you.” Doogie’s yell echoed through the morning air and carried his disgust.
“Phone is on silent.”
Brennan raised a brow but didn’t respond.
When they stopped in front of him, he stared at one man then the other. “I needed a minute.”
“Maybe we needed a minute, too. How about we run and not talk?” Doogie’s strident tone surprised him. He was the calm, centered right hand. If he needed a minute, they were all in trouble.
“Stemmons?”
“Not doing so well. Infection.” Brennan’s bland tone matched his expressionless face.
“I checked last night. When did this happen?”
“Overnight.”
Hunt hated to ask, but a good commander didn’t ignore evidence. “Did either of you sleep?”
Doogie snorted. “Did you?”
“Some.”
Doogie elbowed Brennan. “Wife.”
Brennan nodded, knowingly.
Hunt glanced at the sky, the ocean smells rolling over him. “Didn’t last long. She needed rest, and I was awake. Left her in a quiet house.”
Doogie stretched his legs. “Jack and I have been hanging, comparing mothers, and playing cards.”
