“Isn’t this a muscle, too?”
“I think he’s more vascular.”
She grins, but what I want her to do is push my briefs down. Unfortunately, her hand advances in the wrong direction.
“What’s wrong? Tell me.”
There’s concern in her voice, and I’ll have none of that. “Heart. It’s nothing to be concerned about.”
“The military saw it differently?”
Yeah—smells like bullshit. “It’s rare. Something that may have been there for a while, just the tests didn’t pick it up before. And then when they did…I could’ve taken a desk post but, nah, I worked too hard to make the teams. It was my…”
I stop myself and meet her understanding gaze head on. Yeah, it was my life, but my life continued.
“And this KOAN group? They took you, no questions asked?”
“Recruited me, actually.”
“Do they know about your heart condition?”
“Yeah, but I won’t be doing the shit I’d do on the teams. And it’s a freak oddity. Chances are it’ll never give me any trouble. Nothing to worry about—it’s just, on the teams, there’s no room for risks.”
She’s quiet for a moment, and I wonder if she’s thinking about what that means—how it must have felt to lose the career that defined me. Then she presses her lips to the center of my sternum, right over my heart, and the gesture is so tender it nearly undoes me. The warmth spreads through my rib cage, and I realize it’s not just physical. She’s not looking at me like I’m broken or less than. She’s looking at me like I’m the man she wants.
Ah, yeah, I’m falling for this one.
“Do you sometimes have trouble sleeping? Because of, you know, what you did? The body count?”
“Sleep like a baby. Makes me sound like a monster, right? But, like I said, I believe in the mission. I’ve known guys who really struggled with PTSD, but this old noggin had no issue. Sleep sound. At least, until?—”
“Until you left the army?”
“Navy,” I’m quick to correct her—again. “But yeah. Now I lie awake at night worrying I’m going to take a check from the wrong guy. It’s easy when it’s your country. When it’s a small outfit calling the shots, bosses you don’t even know…” I let my words drift, and wonder if that whip-smart brain of hers is going to connect the dots. We’re a lot alike, Daisy and me.
“So if KOAN wasn’t out there as an option, you wouldn’t choose to work for Sterling?”
“Nah. That guy’s an asshole.”
“Do you think he’s a murderer?” She’s tentative. Probably back to questioning her choices.
“I’m not sure if he had someone kill Jocelyn. And I use the phrase ‘had someone’ because let’s be real…that stiff’s probably never cleaned his own toilet. He doesn’t have the mettle to kill a woman with his bare hands. But do I think he’s broken the law? Sure. Do I think he’d hire someone to kill someone else to keep his ass from landing in prison? Absolutely. Suits like that don’t treasure the idea of pissing in a stainless steel can and taking it up the ass by strong, horny men when they get cornered in the shower.”
She’s quiet for a moment, probably processing that image. Then she sinks her teeth into my chest and grins.
“What’s that for?” She didn’t hurt me, but still. The tension in the room has shifted—from the dark reality of Sterling to something lighter between us.
“You’re making me want to laugh when we’re talking about something serious.”
She shifts against me, and I can feel her trying to shake off the heaviness of our conversation. I haul her on top of me, wanting to help her forget about Sterling for a while.
“Sometimes you need to laugh, especially when things get dark.”
“I’m fairly certain Jocelyn uncovered something. But that’s okay. I feel lighter. You want to know why?”
“Why?”
She slides down, right over my erection, and Jesus, that feels good.