Page 36 of Honor-Bound SEAL

“They ripped you off,” confirmed the detective, changing lanes to pass a huge RV.

Hank pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just didn’t see it, man. Everything was normal, and then,boom, they’re like, ‘We don’t care what you have to tell your boss,’” he reported in his thickest Boston accent, “‘we’re gonna take this, and we ain’t gonna pay you, and you can go fuck yourself.’”

“Not very nice,” said Corbett, commiserating.

“So I was fixing to drive all the way to fuckin’Illinois, knowing that when I get there, they’re never gonna believe that I didn’t just steal it.” The memory of that helplessness seemed to sap Hank’s energy.

“But they saw that you’d been to Boston, on the tracker,” Corbett countered.

“Don’t matter,” Hank said with a firm shake of the head. “Money talks, that’s it. No money, no trust. And if there’s no trust, I’m there thinking that they’d just cut their losses.” He drew a finger across his throat.

“So you wanted to put some distance between you. Get yourself to the south.”

“I hung around in a couple of places for a few days, but cash was tight, and I’m getting these texts from Curt saying that he’s gonna cut me into little pieces, and all this, and I just fuckin’lost it, man.”

Corbett took a fatherly, placating tone. “You had a rough deal, Hank, and you didn’t deserve it. You’re doing the right thing, now.”

He was almost crying. “I just don’t want Raven in trouble.”

The detective was nodding, giving off a sympathetic, understanding air. “You know what, Hank? I really don’t think she’s going to find herself in any trouble. Not when she’s with my buddy, Ridge.”

Pendale, TX

12:30 a.m.

“I don’t really knowhow much to tell you,” Ridge confessed as they sat together on his couch, their legs almost touching. The lights were low, the TV off, and neither of them felt like drinking, despite the bottle of wine chilling in the fridge. “Corbett’s pretty high up in the DEA, and if he needs something, he generally gets it.”

“What, have they got RoboCop coming in to take them all down?” Raven asked, dark humor suiting her mood.

“We’ve got something... better than that.” Ridge kept his tone light, determined to cheer her up. “You know, when I was in Afghanistan, if we needed to take a look somewhere, and it was too dangerous to go there ourselves, we’d get some special help.”

Raven thought for a second. “Wait, you don’t mean...”

“Yeah.”

“One of those... flying robots?” she asked uncertainly.

“A drone,” Ridge clarified. “Saved our lives more than once. I lost track of how many times I called one in.” She stared at him in disbelief. “The DEA has one right now,” he explained, “watching that church and the whole area around it. There isn’t anyone who could show up there for a meeting without Corbett knowing all about it.”

“Seriously?” Raven faced him, impressed and surprised. She found her skepticism beginning to give way to relief.

“Yup.And, they have a team ready to help if we need them.” He gently pushed her hair behind her ears, stroking her face. “And, if you haven’t noticed, I’m abadass, and there ain’t no one coming near you tonight.”

She smiled mischievously. “Except,” she said demurely, “if I want them to.” Ridge’s eyes shone intently as he nodded, holding her gaze. He found her hand on his knee; neither knew when she had placed it there. He glanced down at her slender fingers, pale and slight, willing her hand to slip an inch higher. Or more.

“It feels good,” she was saying, the words coming tentatively, “to have someone like you.” Ridge’s eyes traveled back upward, deliberately slowly, from her hand, along her arm and up, wishing away the red barrier of her borrowed T-shirt, finding his gaze resting on her neckline, the baggy shirt letting him take in her collarbone, and then the gentle valley that led down between her breasts.

Meeting her eyes again, Ridge read their unambiguous message:Don’t be shy... I love your eyes on me...Just that simple, passive act of being gazed upon by him had her nipples tingling, firm and expectant. One hand gave his knee a slight squeeze, while the other moved up toward her neckline, halfway to showing himjust a little more.

She hesitated while her body and mind fought each other for control.Oh, God, is this happening now? I shouldn’t have said that... He’s going to think I’m too forward... Maybe that I’m just easy, another cheap girl throwing herself at him...

“What about,” she said, giving her racing mind, and her overwhelmed senses, time to breathe, “that bottle ofpinot grigio?” she asked brightly.

“Great plan,” Ridge agreed, jumping up to find the corkscrew. If he kept his back to her while opening the bottle, he figured, she might not see that he was almost unbearably hard.

Club Karma, San Antonio

12:45 p.m.

---