Page 100 of Lucky Charm
Doogie snorted. “It’s four a.m. If I eat now, I’ll need second breakfast later which means third breakfast has to be added. We may not have that much time before the next sneak and peek.”
Hunt looked back toward Scott’s office. “Give me a second. Let me see if Scott needs anything.”
Doogie nodded. “Good idea. I’m going to go back and check Pratt’s status. He looks rough, too.”
The two men separated.
In a few paces, Hunt was at Scott’s closed office door. Knocking lightly, he tested the knob and waited for an answer. When none was forthcoming, he silently opened the door. Scott was asleep sitting at his desk.
“Something new, Lieutenant?” The commander’s gravelly voice stayed octaves low, his eyes closed.
“No, sir. Checking on you. Heading to the mess. Can I bring you anything besides the gallons of coffee we’re all drinking?”
Scott yawned but didn’t open his eyes. “No, I’ll grab something later.”
“Get some rest, Harrison. We’re doing everything we can. Some time in a bunk might be better.” Hunt rarely called the man by his first name, but sometimes you had to take care of your teammates, and with the death of Reid, that need to get a handle on the men around him was as deep as Cait’s need to check him.
“Back bothering me. Don’t want to lay down.” Scott had been injured years ago in a helicopter crash and periodically had pain issues.
“Anything I can do?”
“Nope. Thanks, though. Time off my feet helps.”
“I know a doctor in case you need anything.”
Scott grimaced. “Had my fill of doctors, but yours might work. I’ll let you know if I want to beone of Lucky Charm’s rescues. Shut the door on your way out.”
Hunt grinned. “Aye, aye, sir.”
He closed the door behind him, then quietly moved away, in search of Doogie and food. With everything in a holding pattern until the Army did their searches, there wasn’t much to do except speculate and that would take them nowhere.
∞∞∞∞∞
November 26, 2019
Day 22
Cait’s computer dinged and she checked the screen.
Incoming.
Cait grinned. These late-night rendezvous were getting to be their thing. Scrambling from her lounging position on her bed, she raced to brush her hair, pinch her cheeks, and at least get lip balm on. She could do nothing about the black yoga pants, slouchy white socks, or the over-sized gray Army sweatshirt.
Five days since she last saw Hunt. With her busy schedule, she’d handled his absence like a boss. But now, knowing he was incoming, she was a jittery mass of excitement and desperate to see him. In this environment, life was about staying warm not looking like Miss America. But one day, she was going to shock him speechless.
Two quick knocks on the door sounded in the heartbeat where she recognized the distinctive knock and ejected any idea of acting cool. Her hand was on the knob before thought, and she’d opened the door before she asked who it was.
But, of course, it was who she thought it was.
“You’re supposed to ask who it is first.” Hunt stepped into the room, shut the door, and kissed her forehead.
“I could tell by your knock.” She wrapped her arms around him, awash in safety, lust, and homecoming.
He bent to look her in the eyes. “You could not.”
“Yes, I could. Yours is distinctive. When Duncan knocks, it doesn’t sound like yours, so I ask.” She went on tiptoes and kissed him. “Hey, you!”
He used a finger to tip her mouth back to his. “Hey, yourself.”
