Page 43 of Luck Be Mine
“What if I can’t?”
“You’ll find a way. Whether it’s surgery or not, you’ll find a path. I want you to text me and email me about what you’re doing. Even if I can’t answer, even if I’m distracted by my job, it keeps me connected. I’m going to be honest, too. I get overprotective of you.”
She touched his leg, caressing his skin in reassurance. “Not overprotective. Protective. I knew that about you when I married you. I roll with it because you need to be sure of my situation. I’d be foolish not to trust your expertise, and I’m not stupid.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“But the minute you criticize my friends, decide for me, or pick my shoes, we’ll be fighting.”
He shook his head. “Why would I pick your shoes?”
“Some guys aren’t over themselves is all I have to say.”
“I’ve been all about keeping you safe since I met you. Although, how I think I’m doing that when I’m not here, I can’t figure.”
“You tell me and rely on me to carry out what are smart moves. I’m a SEAL wife. I have to not only be protective of your operational security, but I must also be protective of mine. It’s never been something I’ve thought about. You do it instinctively, and I follow your lead. It might look overprotective to others, but I get where it comes from. I’m okay with it.”
“I promise I won’t pick your shoes.”
She grinned at him. “Thank God.” Her face relaxed, and humor filled her eyes.
He put a hand on her neck and ran his palm down her back, enjoying how she arched into his touch. “Was that a slam?”
“Yes. Navy T-shirts and combat boots doesn’t give you the right to pick my shoes.”
“Another marriage rule. Noted.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Can we burn the CIA letter?”
Hunt released the tension from their argument. “Let’s answer them with a resounding not interested first.”
“Okay, but just to get it all on the table, if I ever see Phillip Stocker again, I’m pulling his balls out through his nose.”
He silently laughed before answering her. “I’ll help you.”
She struggled to her feet, and he didn’t hover on purpose. Now was the time to pull back and let her try first. She didn’t need him for a constant hand anymore, and he didn’t want to undermine her confidence in her recovery.
“Can we go back to bed?” She gently smiled, and everything wrong melted away.
He rose, certain joints popping and aching. He needed to pay attention to his own issues. “Yeah. Let’s do.”
He slipped an arm around her and loved the way she folded herself into his body. In the dark room, he shucked out of his shorts and turned to help Cait toss her workout clothes to the floor.
“You promised me a turn,” she whispered against his mouth.
Instead of answering, he lifted her to the bed and followed her in. “Whatever you want, honey. Name it. I’m yours.”
§§§§§§§§§§
◊ QM International – The Deal ◊
Hunt parked across the street from a non-descript gray industrial building tucked along a quiet side road in Kearny Mesa. When finished, the headquarters would be nestled between light industrial warehouses and private research labs. Vehicles parked in front suggested someone worked here, but this address didn’t say security company, yet.
He left the apartment in civvies. Thankfully, Cait lay boneless across the bed, buried under a comforter, in a deep sleep, unable to ask questions he didn’t want to address. Hewanted answers for her safety, for his peace of mind, and for any future interactions with the company.
Spring arrived early in San Diego, and all the trees bloomed in white and pink along the street. He watched the activity in the front of the building for a few moments assessing security then got out of his truck.
Before he could cross the parking lot, Quaid appeared on the sidewalk in front of the main doors. His styled hair tossed in the light breeze. His five-hundred-dollar black sunglasses covered his eyes. The navy suit screamed playboy expensive from twenty paces. His grin stretched across his face and was all friend.
