Page 40 of Ravaged Hearts

Hope’s brow furrowed, but she nodded.

It was a foolish request to make. Neither of us was in complete control of what might happen on this op. The plan was sound. Our team was possibly the most skilled of any on the planet. None of it guaranteed a safe outcome.

“More, Vaughn. Harder,” Hope demanded. “Make me forget about everything else.”

As if I could deny her anything she asked of me. And dammit, I needed to lose myself in her, too. So I reared back and thrust inside, pushing her up the bed as I drove in again and again. Her fingernails dug into my back, urging me on.

And when Hope cried out and her warm walls pulsed around me, I came with her name on my lips, her breath in mylungs, and the gut-wrenching knowledge that this might be the last moment we shared like this.

16

HOPE

That afternoon, the team gathered inside one of the ranch’s large hangars, finalizing their preparations for the mission in a buzz of activity.

Out on the apron, a forklift loaded the last pallets of supplies and equipment into a huge gray plane. It looked like something the military might use, but on the tail, a red maple leaf contained the white lettersCFC.

“Care Flight Canada,” said Sage as she approached. “We travel international a lot, so it’s easiest if we disguise ourselves as an NGO.”

I raised a brow. “Why Canada?”

“Some of the countries we find ourselves in can get edgy if they see aircraft of United States origin.” She shrugged. “Everyone loves Canadians, though. How are you holding up?”

I pressed my lips together. “Nervous.”

My gaze shifted to the cockpit of the plane, where Vaughn ran through last-minute details with the pilots who’d be flying to free him up for the mission. He’d been busy all day, so to keep myself occupied and out of my overthinking head, I’d tagged along with Sage, helping her carry out chores aroundthe farm. We’d fed animals, tended to a few who were unwell, and mucked out stables. All tasks I was familiar with from back home, which made me feel like less of a burden.

A tall, tattooed guy with a dirty–blond man bun approached. I recognized him as one of the hotties from the team photo Vaughn had shown me last night, but I didn’t know his name.

“Hey, girl.” He smiled brightly at Sage and gave her a hug. Then he turned his kind blue eyes to me and extended one hand. “You must be Hope. I’m Kane.” His big palm swallowed mine as we shook.

“He’s our hotshot sniper,” added Sage.

Kane looked a little embarrassed at Sage’s description but didn’t correct her. “Sorry if this upsets you, but if I get a clean shot at your dad, I’m taking it. I already killed him three times, but they were all decoys.”

I curled my hair behind my ears. “There’s no need to be sensitive around me. Carlos has made my life hell and continues to do so. I don’t care how many bullets you put in him.”

Good luck beating me to it.

Sage bumped her hip against Kane’s. “How’s Freya?”

“She’s great.” He broke out in a goofy grin. “She’s loving school. Even took a part-time job tutoring freshmen. Did I tell you she wants to get her motorcycle license?”

“And how do we feel about that?” Sage asked cautiously.

“I’m fucking terrified. I mean, I’ll teach her, but she’s not riding anywhere unless I’m with her and she’s wearing a suit made of Kevlar bubble wrap.” Kane’s eyes met mine. “My girl has this bucket list of things she missed out on growing up and keeps adding crazy shit to it every day. Next week, we’re starting tango lessons. Fucking ballroom dancing. Can you believe it? The guys are gonna give me so much crap.”

Sage only laughed and clapped him on his huge shoulder. “I knew Freya was going to be good for you.”

Kane glanced behind me. “There’s someone else you should meet.” Then he beckoned over another huge man. I was starting to feel like a midget around these guys. “Shep. Come meet the woman who’s tamed Vaughn.”

I wrinkled my nose. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think taming Vaughn is possible.”

“Shame.” Kane’s lips twitched. “I was hoping you could give us some tips on how to make him less of a dick.”

When Shep reached us, he nodded in greeting and adjusted the brim of his ball cap. So this was the guy who’d helped Vaughn build his cabin and furniture. In faded blue jeans, a lumberjack shirt, and hiking boots, he looked like the practical sort, if a little standoffish. Something about his emotionless expression made me think he didn’t want to be here.

“Hope, this is Shep.” Kane gestured to his teammate. “He doesn’t talk much, but he’s good in a firefight.”

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