Page 100 of Surge

He wanted that nap but couldn’t stop thinking of the woman next to him. Without her, they wouldn’t have known about Tariq and Rashid. Or the bullet train. He’d trusted her, and she’d gone off by herself from that Jakarta street fair to find it. When they’d first met, he hadn’t trusted her at all. Hadn’t even wanted her on the mission. But she had been eager to start that self-defense training with him and to teach him to work with Surge. Except for ABA’s Mal, she’d been in over her head on this trip. No training. But she was fearless.

Plus, she reminded him to trust Christ. They’d actually reminded each other that’s where trust needed to be—faith.

And there was that red-hot kiss on the train.

A guy could go a long way on a kiss like that.

EPILOGUE

SIX MONTHS LATER

HILL COUNTRY, TEXAS

Delaney climbedinto Garrett’s burnt-orange Jeep and shut the door. “Thanks for picking me up. Made it easier.” She glanced back to say hi to Zim, only he wasn’t there. Nobody was. So . . . he’d just picked her up? But he’d said this was a team event at the quarterly Navy SEAL Foundation fundraiser at Fox’s Barbecue.

Only her.

She shifted in the passenger seat as they made their way to the restaurant. “So, is Zim meeting us there?”

“Can’t,” Garrett said, adjusting his ball cap as they sat at a red light. “He was deployed. Africa, I think.”

“Oh.” She watched as he pulled onto the county road leading to the ranch. “Caldwell?”

“He’s in DC, busy with some spook business or another.”

So how was this the “team event” he’d told her about last week when they’d met for one of their near-weekly meetups since returning from Indonesia? She’d enjoyed their alone time. Long talks. Real talks.

But that had been coffee, and this wasn’t that. It felt . . . different.

“Team” with just Garrett?

She riffled through her brain, trying to find something to talk about. She could ask how his contracting was going now. Or how his new golden retriever pup was doing with the training advice she’d given him over coffee.

She looked over at him. The way he drove with one hand, the way his muscular arms just perfectly stretched his solid black T-shirt. . .

Delaney gulped. She thought about his arms way too much. She ripped her eyes away.

Um, God? What’s happening?

They passed one of the signs announcing the fundraiser and she read it aloud. “Our quarterly SEAL Foundation fundraiser in December features the Choca Cantika Barbecue Sauce! Their coffee too! Today from four to closing.” She smiled, satisfied their work had made that possible. “It’s awesome they can still offer Choca Cantika.”

“Right?” he agreed with a nod. “Between the US Army and the Indonesian police at the train explosion, Sachaai is gone,” Garrett said. Then hehmph’d. “But really, coffee with barbecue? I mean, Choca Cantika is great, but it’s Dr. Pepper with barbecue, dude.”

Coffee. There was a decent topic. “You sure you want to try the Choca Cantika Barbecue Sauce? I heard about a poisoning or something?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “More flavor. Are you sure?”

“Well, I do know the guy who saved the Cantika Coffee Farm. . .”

His grin spread wide.

“Supposedly. So maybe I better not.” Delaney laughed, and he took the turn into the barbecue place.

Someone pulled out of the parking spot right next to the entry to Fox’s Barbecue. He pulled into it and turned off the Jeep. She reached for her purse and would’ve opened the door for herself, except Garrett appeared there, helping her out.

She hopped out and found herself right next to him. Liked the way she seemed to fit beside him. Felt her insides go giddy at his proximity. And the warm pressure of his hand on the small of her back.

Country music spilled from Fox’s, and she just naturally danced her arms a little as they walked up to the restaurant. The smoker stood beside the door, smoke furling gently into the air. She screeched to a stop as the aroma of the meat smoking over mesquite made her mouth water. “How have I never eaten here?”

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