Page 17 of Surge

“She’s going,” Heath said in that quiet, authoritative voice of his. “You need Surge, and that means her too. Unless you’re suddenly qualified to handle a contract working dog . . .”

Walker lifted his hands in the air, then dragged them over his head with a growl. He eyed her again, and his irritation seemed to wash out of his expression. “Sorry.”

Not the best apology ever. But she’d give it to him. She held up the scent tin Surge had found. “I assume you hid this and it’s the specialized lipid scent?”

“I did. It is.” Walker took it and slid the tin into his pocket. “So . . . Maverick, huh?”

“Pretty sure I’m the only one who calls her that,” Heath said.

Walker nodded, his jaw set tight. “Saw you work him on the course.” Another, smaller nod. “Nice job.”

He was likely the only person on the face of the planet who could say those two words and make them mean something entirely different.

Heath cleared his throat. “Mav, Walker will be the team lead on the mission. Whatever you need, talk to him. He’ll take care of you and Surge.” There was more than a little warning in Heath’s tone as he rammed his gaze into the SEAL.

Another tiny nod from Walker.

Though she felt a thrum of exultation—this mission meant she could buy her father the leg prosthetic upgrade—Delaney felt another thrum, this one banging against all her old fears.

But for Dad she’d do it.

Maybe this was where Dad’s slogan—a little nice goes a long way—fit in. “It’s good to know there’s a SEAL taking charge.”

“Former SEAL.” The way Heath said it seemed to be about putting the man in his place. “It’s a paramilitary mission—so private contract with the government to work this.”

“Like you’re aformerGreen Beret, and she’s not military, yet she’s going, so I’m not sure what your point is, Ghost,” Walker responded and slid a glower in her direction.

Was he blaming her for what Heath said? She tried to get along with him.

Do not get in his face. Walk away. Leave, before you say something stupid and get yanked.“You’re high-handed, Walker.”

Yeah, like that. She shouldn’t have said that.

Walker’s gaze stabbed her. “What do you meanhigh-handed, Ms. Thompson?”

She arched her eyebrow. “That your attitude earned you the nickname Bear.”

His jaw dropped. “How on earth?—”

In her peripheral vision, Delaney saw Heath smirk. She couldn’t help but do the same.

First, she’d gotten in trouble for going behind Heath’s back with Surge. Deserved.

Now, she was put with this bear-man for a mission—a real one. To Singapore. With a grizzly-sized SEAL.FormerSEAL. What had she gotten herself into? Nerves quailing, she considered rescinding her agreement to do this. Let them figure it out on their own. But . . . the chance to get Dad that new prosthetic and prove to him—and Heath—that Surge still had what it took. That this four-legged hero wasn’t ready for retirement.

That’s what she’d gotten herself into, and she wasn’t going to back out.

“See you tomorrow at nineteen hundred, Master Chief.”

* * *

Garrett shook his head, watching Thompson high-five Crew. The two chatted as the beefy guy escorted her and Surge back to the kennels.

You are high-handed . . .

That your attitude earned you the nickname Bear.

That olive green jacket and her swingy caramel-brown ponytail matched her sass. When he’d first shown up with Crew to watch the demonstration, he’d noticed the woman and wondered where Maverick was. Should’ve put it together before Daniels blindsided him. Might’ve saved him from sounding sexist. He’d heard her snappy replies when Daniels was chewing her out, then saw her stab a finger at the guy—all moves that would’ve earned disciplinary action had she been in the military. Even he had been the target of her snark.

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