Looking around sharply, she found Cuervo standing in the doorway. The lanky PJ wore a marathon T-shirt and camouflage pants with combat boots. “Just checking on you for the major. Didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Liam sent the guy to check on her? Watch over her? Touching and frustrating at the same time. She didn’t enjoy being pushed aside. She wanted to help. To do something. Anything.

She swung her feet off the edge of the double bed. “I’m not actually tired. Just bored to death after the frenzy of the past couple of weeks.”

“We play word games to pass the time during a long swim or run.”

“Seriously? You have the energy to talk in the middle of that kind of workout?”

A coal black eyebrow shot upward. “Do you think if we’re in the middle of hiking our asses off an Afghan mountain with the Taliban breathing down our neck that we stop for a break every time we need to pass along a message to each other?”

Her stomach churned at the image he painted of Liam’s life beyond civilian rescues and training exercises. Those scenarios were all too sharp edged, given what Brandon had shared tonight.

“Sorry,” Cuervo said. “Sometimes I forget it’s not everyday kinda stuff for the rest of the world. Part of why we play games to take the edge off, I guess.”

She swallowed hard. “Like what kind of word games?”

Crossing his boots at the ankles, he settled more comfortably in the doorway. “We just started playing this new word game called marry one, screw one, kill one. Some people on the team think it’s not PC enough.”

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“Hey,” Wade Rocha shouted from the next room. “I heard that.”

Cuervo continued. “But I think it’s kinda like that ‘people in a boat’ game where you have to decide who gets tossed overboard and fed to the sharks.”

Rachel grinned. “You’re a bloodthirsty one.”

“Our options are laugh or what? Become like Bubbles?”

Bubbles… back in the Bahamas… “The one who always cleans his gun and never speaks or smiles?”

“Right. As for me, I prefer laughing. So”—he spoke loud enough to be heard in the living area as well—“in the interest of equality and all, we’ll give you ladies a shot at playing… with guys to pick from.”

Sunny Rocha stepped up alongside Cuervo. “I assume you’re not going to offer your own names.”

Cuervo clutched his heart. “If only I could, without Wade kicking my ass. So, ladies, pick a subject, and I’ll list three men. You too, Catriona. Come on in.” The dog-sitter stepped into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “For example… I’ll choose three men from the Ocean’s Eleven actors. Or three sports heroes. Or three guys from the cast of Glee.”

“You’re a Gleek?” Catriona gasped. “For real?”

“I own all the past seasons on DVD. Cross my heart.” Cuervo drew an X over his chest.

Catriona shook her head. “I don’t believe you. Prove it.”

“Fine.” He nodded officially. “Challenge accepted. Cast of Glee it is. Puck, Finn, Mr. Schuester.” He named the characters with ease. “Marry one. Screw One. Kill one. And listen up in there, Major. You’ll learn a lot about your lady friend here from her answer.”

“Cuervo,” Liam called from the other room. “We’re working here. You should try it.”

“I’m keeping your girlfriend safe, like you asked.” Cuervo leaned out farther into the hall, speaking louder, “You’re a psychology buff right, Major? On Glee, Puck is the bad boy. Finn is the football star. Mr. Schuester is the sensitive type. So who does your lady friend, Rachel, want to kill? And who will she—?”

“Okay. Enough games.” Rachel shot to her feet and patted Cuervo on the cheek on her way into the hall. “I appreciate the laugh and protection. Truly. But no freebie peeks inside my brain.”

Yet as she looked into the dark wise eyes of Liam’s teammate, Rachel suspected she’d already given herself away. She hurried out down the hall and back into the living area.

Sunny stepped up behind her husband and rested her hands on his shoulders. “Wade, who did you pick to marry when you guys played?”

Wade didn’t even look up from the computer at the long oak table. “I refused to participate. I’m permanently benched.”

“Hey…” Sunny swatted his arm, then brushed a kiss over the top of his bent head. “I think that’s a compliment.”

“Totally.” He snagged her hand and pulled her closer for a firmer lip-lock.

Their happiness just about glowed. Not even the current crisis could dim it. It was hard not to feel jealous right now. Her eyes skated to Liam, who was pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course he had bigger concerns. She needed to prioritize.

Cuervo slung an arm around Rachel’s shoulders. “When we play the game, the major wants to marry all the women.”

Liam glanced up, scowling. “Thanks, my friend, but I don’t need your help watching over Rachel after all.”

“Ah, so you care what she thinks.” Cuervo winked at Rachel. “Got it. Officially backing off.”

And why wouldn’t he back off? He’d gone overboard in “protecting” her. He’d made his point by ensuring they both didn’t forget the obstacles in front of them.

As if she already didn’t know how much they both had working against them once they left this place and returned to the real world.

Liam stepped out onto the porch alongside Cuervo. With the moonless night and thick sheet of rain pouring off the roof, there wasn’t much to see beyond the cabin. Wind howled through the trees, drowning out the bugs and bullfrogs for once.

He leaned against a post beside his teammate standing guard. “Are you through trying to make me lose my shit?”

Cuervo peeled spooned lo mein out of an MRE packet. “You shouldn’t make your vulnerability so obvious.” He looked at the closed cabin door. “Where’s Rachel?”

“She ran screaming in the other direction,” Liam snapped. “What did you expect, after your little mind game in there?”

“Quit trying to make me feel guilty for stating the obvious. Where is she? Seriously.” He shoveled in another bite.

“She’s gone back to the bedroom, trying to catch some sleep while it’s raining.” He wanted to make sure Rachel didn’t overtax herself. She’d been open about her burnout. Seeing Harris offered up a harsh reminder of just how no one was immune from a breakdown. Would this mission help her return to her old drive, or was it too much, too soon?

“Smart to rest up while she can.”

“First rule of a good warrior. Never stand when you can sit and never sit when you can sleep.”

“You know it.” Cuervo dropped the spoon into the brown plastic container, all humor fading from his lean face. “Are you really going to get out of the air force?”

Ah, so that’s where the kid had been going with all the games and chitchat in there. He’d been attempting to get a handle on what Liam had in store for the future to see if Rachel had anything to do with recent decisions.

“It’s not like I’m quitting. I’m retiring.” Liam pulled out the crackers and packet of processed cheese spread from the MRE box. “The military lets you retire at twenty years for a reason. This job is hard on a body, as my creaky knees can attest. I’ve been in for twenty years. It’s time.”

“I forget sometimes that you enlisted at eighteen. That you even went to college while on active duty. The civilian world is going to seem—”

“Alien? Quiet?” He forced down a fear that rivaled anything he’d felt on the battlefield. “Yeah.”

He squeezed the cheese out onto the cracker and stuffed it in his mouth. Tasted like crap but it was familiar. Safe to eat.

Safe.

The word tripped him up.

When had he started playing life safe?

Cuervo rolled up his empty food pouch. “We need the ones like you to stick around, the ones who put everything into the job. Too often it’s the jackasses who only look after themselves that stay in. And how bad does that suck for those of us still left?”

“Is that what this is all about? Scaring Rachel off and convincing me to stay in the service so some jackass isn’t in charge?”

“The two don’t have to be mutually exclusive. You can have Rachel and the career.”

Liam stared the kid down. “How old are you again? Twelve? Thirteen?” Anger roiled in his gut. As if the decision to leave the service had been made lightly.

“No disrespect meant.” Cuervo stood taller, an invisible wall forming between them as surely as if the rain had started pouring through a crack in the porch roof.

Liam shook off his shitty mood. No good would come from taking it out on Cuervo. Wasn’t his fault. “Hey, kid, seriously. I’m old. It’s my time to step out of the field whether I stay in or not. Would you really be content to hang out in some war room watching the action go down live on a big screen?”

“Honestly, they’ll have to bury me before I would quit.” The darkness in the younger man’s eyes made him look decades older.

Liam angled off the porch post and clapped the junior team member on the arm. “Don’t joke around about crap like that.”

“Without the missions”—Jose shook his head—“I don’t have anything else. Don’t want anything else.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’ve read my file.” His throat moved in a hard swallow. “It’s all in there.”

And it was, the real reason no one ever saw Jose James with a drink in his hand, the sad irony behind his call sign, Cuervo. “You had a drinking problem, but you completed the rehab program. At our last feedback session, everything seemed cool. Or is there something you need to talk about?”

“I’m dry. Solid for today. One day at a time, you know?” Jose’s hand slipped into his pocket and he stared at his five-year-sober coin, flipping it between his fingers. “This job keeps me level, gives me discipline and a reason to stay that way.”

“And you’re sure you’re not having a problem I need to know about?”

“Seriously, I’m cool. If I’m ever having a rough patch, I just run another marathon.” He laughed darkly. “I’ve never been healthier.”

“In reading your file, I learned a lot more that you can be proud of. You broke a family cycle of alcoholism. It stops with you. That’s huge, man.” Liam dug up every ounce of insight he’d gained from all those marital-counseling sessions. It came in handy sometimes when leading his team. “Your nieces and nephews, your own kids someday, they can look to you as an example of how life can be.”

“Thank you. Your opinion means a lot to me.” More of that humidity-filled silence hung in the air before Cuervo continued. “Although, I still think it’s utter horseshit that you’re retiring, dude.”

Liam let the tension roll off and smiled. “That’s still ‘dude, sir’ to you for now.”

Laughing, they settled back into the routine of just hanging out. No need to talk. They’d spent hours on training ops and missions, silent, waiting, watching. He would miss this most of all, the team, mentoring.

But he couldn’t dwell on that. Cuervo’s words would have to roll right off like the rain sheeting from the roof. For now, he had his final mission to complete before he could move forward with Rachel. She was his future. And God help him if he screwed up with Rachel in what was clearly the chance of a lifetime.

His last chance.

Chapter 15




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