Page 7 of Raven's Curse
She groaned, splashing another handful of water on her face, careful not to remove more of the concealer. She’d arrived at the café ten minutes ago and had detoured into the washroom to freshen up. Decompress after another eighteen-hour shift. Until she’d caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
Seeing her feelings for him staring back at her had stopped her cold, and she’d been backpedaling ever since.
The handle on the old wooden door rattled, the hinges creaking in protest as the door swung inward, clattering against a metal stop. Mackenzie Parker swept into the two-stall bathroom, her long brown hair twisted up into a messy bun. She smiled when their gazes clashed, glancing over her shoulder before helping those rusty hinges close.
Mac ambled over to the counter, dabbing at the corner of her mouth. “Everything okay? You look… concerned.”
Greer turned and braced her ass against the wall. “Are you checking up on me?”
Mac eyed her in the mirror.
Greer sighed. “Shit, you are.”
“I saw you stroll in, then head in here, and…”
“And what? Did I reach some magical time limit that had you questioning my well-being?”
“It’s been ten minutes. You never take more than five, tops. And that’s only when you have to wash off blood or something from an altercation.” Mac waved at the strips on Greer’s temple. “And based on the bruising you’re trying to hide, that’s at least twelve hours old, so…”
“I think you missed your calling. You should have been a detective.”
“Please, those few ground encounters I had with Striker were enough to remind me why I prefer to attack a situation from the sky. Facing tangos on the ground is creepy.”
Greer laughed. “You’re not wrong.”
Mac turned, leaned her hip against the counter. A small bump pressed against her hoodie, her pregnancy just starting to show. “I’m not wrong about something bothering you, either.”
Greer plastered on a fake smile. “I’m fine, just tired.”
“I don’t doubt the tired, but you’re not fine. In fact, you’ve been off since that insane mission on the salvage ship with Zain, Saylor and Chase.”
Greer’s lips quirked as Chase’s name echoed through the small room, rattling around in her head like that damn sonar weapon had. Lingering in the background like a benediction. She fisted her hands, searched for something to say, but nothing fit.
Mac sighed. “If you need to talk about Chase, but you’re afraid what you have to say is going to hurt him?—”
“He stepped in front of a bullet.”
The words rushed out in a heated mess, jumbling together until Greer wasn’t sure if she’d gotten more than just bullet out.
She huffed. “Three, actually. Meant for me. And he would have staggered to his feet and taken more if I hadn’t dragged him into a storage room a second before that damn sonar went off. Dropped us both.” She shook her head. “I know that’s what he does. What they all do, but…”
How did she say that one selfless act had changed her without admitting she was floundering? That she couldn’t look at him without hearing the pop of gunfire. Seeing him jerk from the hits, yet holding his ground.
That she couldn’t picture any other man ever standing up for her the way he had.
Mac slipped her hands over Greer’s. “Is that a bad thing?”
“It’s insane.”
“That’s kind of the team’s default position, and you’re part of it. There’s nothing any of them wouldn’t do, but Chase…” Mac squeezed. “He’s been all-in from the start.”
Greer bowed her head in defeat, aware she needed to tell someone the truth before it spilled free over coffee. “I’m crazy about him.”
Mac laughed. “You say that like we didn’t already know.”
“It’s more than that, I…” Greer worried her bottom lip, all the words just tumbling free. “Do you think it’s possible to fall in love without even kissing? Going on a date?”
“Pretty sure Foster had me hooked before he shoved me against his front door.”
