Cover Me

chapter 6



Towel wrapped around his waist, Wade stepped out of the shower at the squadron locker room. Back at Elmendorf Air Force Base for only a couple of hours and already the mess on that mountain seemed a world away.

Sunny seemed a world away even though she was only next door in the women’s locker room. In the shower. Shit.

He worked his aching shoulder on the way toward the lockers, past the stalls, sandals slapping against the slick tile. The low hum of voices echoed in the steamy space, water still running behind him from McCabe finishing up. As he approached, the voices stopped.

Team members were scattered around the room, familiar as ever. As was their curiosity. They all could have been dressed and gone by now, since their part of the mission was complete. He, on the other hand, still had briefings left with the base officials. Jose “Cuervo” James pulled on a marathon T-shirt. Marcus “Fang” Dupre, already dressed, worked a Sudoku puzzle, not even hiding the fact that he was killing time waiting to grill him. Only Gavin “Bubbles” Novak halfway managed to hide his interest—grim as ever. But then he always stayed more on the periphery, packing and repacking his gear, cleaning his gun.

Wade plunged deeper into the room to his locker and grabbed a fresh camo ABU—airman battle uniform—crisp and new, replacing the BDUs they used to wear. Good God, how much money was spent every time the uniforms got changed. Again.

And yeah, he was cranky.

He still faced at least a couple of hours’ debriefing on what he and Sunny had uncovered out there. “What? Are we in high school or something? You guys all but said, ‘Hush, here he comes.’”

Chuckling, Franco reached into his locker for a pullover sweater, his part done for the day, no need for his uniform. “Did you keep your shoulder dry like I told you?”

“I went to the same medic training for six months at Fort Bragg just like you did, smart-ass.” He stepped into his ABU pants, for once grateful that he spent so much time at the base, he had uniforms to spare in the squadron locker room. Reaching back into the locker, he almost managed to suppress a wince at the tug to his shoulder. A T-shirt was definitely out of the question. He yanked off the button-down blouse—why the hell did they call it a blouse? Like it was some silky woman’s shirt rather than a camouflage jacket.

Battle boots next. He dropped to the bench, glad for an excuse to sit so the room would stop spinning. “I know how to take care of myself.”

“Then next time you can patch yourself up, princess.” Franco sat next to him, lacing up his own hiking boots. “Hardship duty, dude, being holed up with her for two days.”

He kept his mouth zipped. His old man would be proud of his self-control these days.

Jose slammed his locker shut. “Ah, he’s embarrassed. It was chillier than usual. This cold-ass tour of duty can be hell on a guy’s ego, what with shrinkage and all.”

If only that had been the problem. It may have been cold as hell out there, but that hadn’t stopped him from almost losing his objectivity over a woman he barely knew. Sliding the last button through, he flinched at his own lack of control.

Laughter fading, Marcus closed his Sudoku puzzle book, studying him through narrowed eyes. “You hurt yourself out there worse than you’re saying?”

“Jump out of a plane, you’re gonna be sore.” He dismissed the worry fast. “But then you guys wouldn’t know that, since you were back here playing Xbox.”

Gavin looked up from cleaning his gun, one eyebrow raised. “Cranky, cranky, are we?”

And he was. Not because of the injury. Or because of the bodies they’d discovered, although that definitely cast a huge dark cloud over the day all on its own.

He was edgy and cranky because he was all but chewing nails over how bad he wanted a woman who’d so far refused even to tell him her last name.

Marcus set aside his Sudoku book. “Maybe you should give that last girl you dated a call, the one who worked at that diner across from your place. What was her name… Katie… Kimmy…”

“Kammi,” Jose sighed reverently, hitching a Nike running bag over his shoulder. “That was one smokin’ hot babe. Still don’t understand why you let her get away.”

Wade smiled tightly. “Feel free to ask her out anytime. I hear she’s working the lunch shift now.”

Not that he was keeping tabs on her or any of his other exes. He just wasn’t the get-serious kind. Most women he’d gone out with over the years didn’t have the patience for his kind of workaholic devotion to the job.

A door across the room creaked open, and he welcomed the distraction from discussion of his dating history. A fresh recruit airman stopped just inside. “Sergeant Rocha?”

Wade pushed to his feet, buttoning the cuffs on his uniform. “That would be me.”

“The lady from the mountain, Sunny Foster, she’s asking for you.”

Whistles and wolf calls came from his buds, but he didn’t even rise to the bait. He was too focused on what the airman had said.

Foster.

Funny how one word could change everything. Her name was Sunny Foster. Apparently the pimply faced airman had better luck getting her to talk than he had.

Of course now that the authorities were involved, her secretiveness would have to come to an end. A good thing. Except he could only think of the flash of terror in her eyes he’d seen, once she was inside the helicopter. Only a quick moment of vulnerability, but he hadn’t doubted what he saw. He didn’t know why, but he knew he couldn’t leave her alone and defenseless.

The urge to protect powered his feet double time across the tiled floor.

***



As Sunny waited in the small conference room, walls lined with framed lithographs of military aircraft throughout the years, the full impact of her situation washed over her.

She was at least six hundred miles from home. She had no clothes. No money. No way to contact her family, other than the Internet. And she couldn’t leave without Chewie, who was currently being looked over by the base vet who took care of military dogs.

Even her clothes were borrowed, jeans and a sweater loaned to her by a female clerk in the squadron who was close to the same size. The jeans fit, although the sweater was snugger than she was accustomed to. Homesickness enveloped her like the track suits she wore to work. She missed her home, her job, her routine. Most of all she missed her family.

They must be freaking-out worried by now, especially Misty. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.

Sunny tugged the lip balm from her pocket—yet another thing she’d had to accept for free—and slicked it across her cracked, dry lips. God, it sucked to be so at the mercy of others. She was an independent businesswoman in her community. None of which apparently meant a thing outside her boundaries. Now she had to figure out how to get back, a logistical conundrum.

It wasn’t as if she could say, “Hey, could I hitch a helicopter ride back home?”

Round and round she turned her Styrofoam cup of coffee on the table in front of her. A dozen black office chairs—the kind that spun—were placed around the table, all empty except for the one she sat in. Waiting.

A computer sat on a lectern and a telecon screen hung from the ceiling, but they weren’t any good to her with their blank screens, certain to have security codes.

The door clicked, giving a second’s warning someone was about to enter. Spinning her chair toward the entrance, she held her breath, not sure what to expect from this evening. She’d asked to see Wade…

And there he was, filling the doorway with his familiar broad shoulders and indomitable will. But Wade also looked different, more unreachable. It had to be the uniform, because his eyes were the same.

He wore camouflage pants tucked into combat boots, a maroon beret tucked in his thigh pocket. His hair was shorter than she’d realized before, but then he’d worn his hood most of the time. And he was clean shaven now. He’d been magnetic, virile, commanding during their survival trek, but now she saw—holy crap—he was poster boy handsome.

A lean face with strong cheekbones, perfectly sculpted like some hard-as-stone statue. Yet his perfection was offset with just the right masculine rough edges, his windburned skin, even his callused hands, gave him the appeal of a man who could protect, survive.

Win.

Her eyes settled on his mouth, chapped like hers, yet somehow that hadn’t hampered him in the least when he’d kissed her on the mountain. The time seemed so surreal now, a world away.

The air went heavy and awkward. She hated feeling out of her element. She searched his face for signs that he might be downplaying his injury, the memory of all that blood still too fresh in her mind. Dark circles marked under his eyes, but other than that he seemed steady, focused. On her.

She gripped the arms of her chair. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Sore, but livable.” He wheeled out a chair and sat beside her. “I won’t be jumping out of planes for a while, but I should be back to work in the field in a week or so.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” Her fingers itched to touch him, just his knee, so close to hers. “I wouldn’t want you to suffer because of me.”

“I’m just glad that deputy is a crappy shot.” A smile crinkled the corners of his intense brown eyes.

“The day could have ended so much worse.” She tugged at the hem of her sweater, swamped with memories of what it had been like in the cold and snow with Wade lying on top of her. Praying they would make it out of there alive.

She shook off the wave of intense feelings, focusing on more practical concerns. “About tomorrow… I need some help in figuring out how I’m going to get back home.”

“Major McCabe is looking into that now. It may take a few days to find a mission already slated to go to that region, but once we do, we can put you on the aircraft. You’ll just need someone to pick you up. Or you can arrange for private transportation faster. Your call.”

Leave tomorrow or wait around for days? Days when her sister could be planning to leave. “I think I need to look into those speedier arrangements. And what about that deputy who shot at us?”

“Authorities here have notified the sheriff there, his boss. They’re already sending a scouting party for him and the bodies. They’ll want to take your statement over the phone today before you leave.”

“Of course. Whenever they’re ready.” She struggled to push aside years of suspicions hammered into her head, the mantra repeated by her parents to be careful who she trusted. There were people out there who would shut down their community if they could, would take away their home and shuffle them back to a more congested area where it was “easier” to track their activities. But what other option did she have if she wanted justice for Madison and Ted than to talk now?

“Afterward, I can help you make arrangements to fly home.” Wade continued, “I could drive you to an airport.”

Now wouldn’t that have made things easier? Too bad there would be no record of her existence in any bank in the world, let alone access to a credit account. “I was only planning to go on a mountain hike. There aren’t exactly any places that call for a MasterCard or Visa there. And my family doesn’t have reliable phone service. Um, sorry, but where I live is pretty remote.”

“As are a lot of places in Alaska.” He leaned back in the chair, watching her as if waiting for her to say more. When she didn’t, he continued, “So? What’s the plan?”

“I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “I don’t know who to trust and what’s the right decision.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“I’m sorry.” She shook her head, sweeping her hair back, the length still damp from her shower.

His eyes tracked her, stayed on her hair. She forced her hands back to her lap.

“Can I trust you?”

“I don’t know. Can you? On the one hand, I did save your life. And on the other, I’m a guy you’ve just met.”

Somehow the way he left the decision up to her put her more at ease. “For now you’re a better option than some folks I’ve known a lot longer.”

Like the deputy who’d played duck shoot with them earlier. My God, she needed to warn so many people in her community who trusted that man.

“It would help if you told me what you’re talking about.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, muscular arms straining the sleeves of his uniform.

She stared into Wade’s eyes, the same steady gaze that had gotten her safely off a mountain and away from a madman. Taking a deep breath, steadying herself, she needed to reach out to him again if she wanted any chance of warning her sister.

“Call me a paranoid, off-the-grid kook who sees conspiracy theories everywhere, but I just can’t shake the weird feeling that the deputy’s actions have to be a part of something bigger.” She didn’t trust the local sheriff’s department now, not when she knew how many friends Rand had back home. The corruption had to go deeper. And if it did, the military’s phone call to his boss wasn’t going to save Misty. “Otherwise it just doesn’t make sense for him to kill two people.”

She hoped he wouldn’t think she was crazy. She needed him to believe her. And sitting so close to him and confiding her deepest fears, she realized she needed him. All those raw feelings he’d stirred inside her back on the mountain came roaring to life again now, like frostbitten toes recovering sensation with a vengeance.

“He could have had the hots for the woman.” His shoulders shrugged, his chair nudging closer until she could almost feel the body heat radiating off him. “It could have been an assault situation gone over the edge. Then he came after us because we found the bodies. He was probably trapped out there in the storm the same way we were.”

“That all makes sense, I guess.” She held ultrastill. A move away could well relay how much his presence affected her, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to take that step or not.

“Actually, I didn’t come up with the theory myself. That’s what his boss seems to think happened. Apparently Rand Smith had been talking about the woman around work for quite a while.”

Could be, but it still felt… off. She’d been with Ted and Madison when they’d met with the deputy and she hadn’t gotten that vibe at all. Of course nothing felt normal right now, and Wade’s presence scrambled her already shaky senses. “I should give my statement while things are still fresh in my mind—and before I pass out. Are they coming in here or do I go somewhere?”

“You’ll call from here. It’ll be a video-con, so it will be like a regular face-to-face interview.”

She drew in a shaky breath. “Okay, I can handle that.”

“Afterward, I’ll make sure they give you quarters to stay in for the night.” He reached into his pocket. “You’ll need some cash for incidentals.”

“No!” She placed a hand on his arm. A jolt of awareness sparked up her fingertips, tingling all the way into her arms. Ignoring him wasn’t working, but that didn’t mean she would lose sight of what she needed to accomplish tonight. “Can we please just go somewhere else?”

“We?”

His body tensed. Their eyes locked. Heat spiked in the room. Or was it just in her bloodstream?

“Honestly, after all I’ve been through recently, I really don’t want to stay here alone.” She tried to think of a reason why she wouldn’t take the offer of a free room just because it happened to be on a military base that totally freaked her out. She downplayed it with “Gotta confess, the base is rather overwhelming. I’ve had a scary couple of days and thought… Maybe I could stay at a hotel. I’ll pay you back with interest. But I need to get off base. All the noise and people are like a steamroller to my senses when I’m used to the closest neighbor being a mile away.”

He shook his head. “Those close-by people also bring security, and until I know what the hell was going on with Deputy Smith, I’m not going to feel comfortable with you out there unprotected.”

“How about I stay with you then,” she blurted in desperation.

His eyes blinked wide for a second before his expression went neutral. “How do you know I don’t live here on base?”

“You’re not married, so you can’t have one of the base houses… Well, unless you’re a Catholic chaplain—then you could live on base alone.” She couldn’t help but grin. “Are you a priest?”

“Not by a long shot.” Leaning back in his chair, he folded his hands over his chest, his smile a hint wicked.

Heat singed her ears. “Didn’t think so.” God, she liked his smile. “And since you’re not a freshly recruited E1 airman, you can’t live in the airman’s dorms. So I can only conclude you do not live on station. Have I covered everything?”

“You know a lot about base life.”

Her insides chilled. Why was it so easy to lower her guard around this guy? She would do well to remember that around him, and without question, he was her best bet for a ticket off this base until she could figure out what to do next. So she needed to rein in the rogue attraction where he was concerned. “I had an uncle in the service. So can I stay at your place or not? I saved your butt on that mountain, after all, by showing you that cave.”

“And I saved your butt when the guy was shooting.”

“That you did.”

He angled forward again, so close she thought for a second he was going to kiss her. Which would only complicate things.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” he said simply. “Yes, you can stay at my place if you wish. It’s small, but there’s a bed and a sofa.”

A sigh shuddered through her long and hard, her relief almost overriding her body’s reaction to watching his lips wrap around the word bed. One hurdle taken care of. And if she could keep her wits about her, she had a place to stay and access to a computer that was less likely to be monitored. And although that kiss still hovered unspoken in the air between them, he’d offered a sofa rather than assuming she wanted to jump in bed with him.

Now if she could only be so sure she could hold strong against sliding into the comfort of his arms to calm her soul and fears.

***



Brett fought the urge to fling his BlackBerry across the room, smack between the eyes of the mounted reindeer head.

How in the hell had that deputy—Rand Smith—screwed up so completely? It was such a simple job. Take out two people with an entire, deserted wasteland to dispose of the bodies. He’d thought having someone from the local police department on his payroll would make things easier, not harder.

Pacing, Brett restored order to his office, to his world. He dropped a stray pen into the pewter holder, thumbed a fingerprint from a glass whale paperweight his wife had given him to commemorate their fifteenth anniversary. Everything he did was for her, and had been since the day he fell hard and fast for the flame-haired, fiery-tempered woman on a charter fishing boat.

He’d left Montana for Alaska looking for opportunity and adventure, and he’d found Andrea. Everything he did was for her, to give her what she needed.

For the past two and a half years, that tiny, secluded town had offered a perfect—and lucrative—conduit for smuggling people, intelligence, and even weaponry in and out of Russia. He could stash them there until the time was right to make the next move. And never had a package promised to be more profitable than the explosive surprise in the works three days coming.

One pacing step at a time, he steadied his heart rate and his focus. He could make this happen. He needed to make it happen for Andrea. His knuckles skimmed the top of a honeymoon photo snapped on safari in Africa. With the larger payoff in the works, he could give her a future with more magical times like that.

He set the frame in place, carefully angled in the collection lined along his windowsill. Now was not the time to draw attention to this corner of Alaska. Mistakes were not tolerated by his new business associates, and his gut clenched over the possibility of Andrea being widowed.

The most expedient way to keep a lid on this? Let Rand think he was regaining favor with a last chance opportunity to off Sunny Foster, a woman who now knew way too much about the world outside.

Then he would stage Rand Smith’s death to look like an accident, while planting some love letters from Madison on his person. Loose ends tied up neat and tidy.

He reached for the phone to call his wife. Damn right, people would do anything for love.

***



Walking up the narrow stairwell to Wade’s home, a third-floor apartment, Sunny couldn’t shake the sense that she’d missed something crucial back at base. She’d given her statement to the police about what she’d seen. She’d explained simply that she escorted small excursions leaving an off-the-grid community on the Aleutian Islands. Luckily—and a little surprisingly—the interrogator on the other side of the phone line hadn’t pressed.

They hadn’t been able to hold the video conference as originally planned, due to a storm that rolled in through the islands, scrambling the satellite feed. The techies had tried for ten minutes, but only received blurry reception, so they’d opted for phone lines, which worked well enough with only the occasional crackle. Thank God, that was out of the way. Now she could focus on contacting her family.

Then what? She would be alone with Wade in his apartment. Adrenaline and want and a thousand other confusing emotions scrambled through her brain. She didn’t know what she felt anymore.

She only knew she had to reach her sister, and Wade was the one person she even halfway trusted out here. Not that trust had anything to do with how she kept checking out the taut curve of his backside in uniform as he led her up the stairs.

Chewie’s nails clicked on the scarred wooden steps as he followed her. The base vet had given him a clean bill of health. And now she owed Wade even more.

Stopping outside the thick oak door, he pulled out his keys, unlocked two dead bolts before opening up. He spread his arm wide. “Welcome to my garret, sweet garret.”

“Thank you, really. You’re being so generous.” Careful not to brush against him, she strode past into his one-room studio apartment, sprawling and rustic.

Thick maple beams stretched across the slanted ceiling, all natural and light. Chewie lumbered past slowly, nose to the ground, sniffing as he explored the new space. The apartment itself was full of typical guy furniture, a fat brown sofa and huge recliner. An oversized television with a flat screen took up half a wall. She’d seen some like it in movies, but had never used one. Most of the appliances where she lived were older and simpler, requiring minimal power. And they always used fireplaces and wood stoves.

Apparently, so did Wade, if the massive stone hearth was anything to judge by. Chewie padded over, hunkering down to stare at the bear rug with a low growl. Finally, her dog surrendered and flopped into an exhausted heap with a hefty sigh.

Wade flipped a switch, activating track lighting along the angled ceiling over the kitchen. “Help yourself to anything. The cabinet under the little island there has standard snack crap, chocolate chip granola bars, Pop-Tarts, and such.”

Best as she could tell, all sugary. Not much of a gourmet or health food aficionado, but somehow it made her smile all the same. Then she saw what she’d really come here for.

His dinette table sported a computer and a printer rather than dishes or even a napkin holder. Her fingers curled into a fist to resist the temptation to type away right now. Only a minute or so more and she would be able to contact her family.

She traced the edge of the dark wood table, nostalgia blindsiding her. Meals were a big deal in her family. She pressed her fingers against the ache in her chest. The skylight and wall of windows gave a sweeping view of the breathtaking Alaska Range, reminding her all the more of her family, her home. God, she loved this place, a photographer’s dream. A place where people were just as welcome in jeans and mukluks as they were in diamonds and furs.

And suddenly she realized. “I don’t know where you’re from.”

“A little of everywhere.” He dropped his green bag of gear by the sofa. “My dad was an army warrant officer, helicopter pilot. Mom was an air force reservist, a medical technician on C-130s outfitted as hospitals.”

“You’re a military brat times two.”

“Needless to say, we moved around.”

“I imagine your parents are proud you’ve continued in their footsteps.” Her father had never said anything against his son. But there were days…

“So my dad says. But I sure gave them a few gray hairs back in the day.” He walked past her almost touching, electrifying the air on his way to the stone fireplace. “I was a hardheaded hell-raiser in high school.”

“What made you change your ways?”

Kneeling, he tossed two logs onto the grate. “Oh, the hardheaded part is still alive and well. Ask anyone. As for the hell-raising?” He arranged kindling with knowledgeable precision. “Let’s just say it ended the day I witnessed a helicopter crash. As I watched the rescuers in action, I knew right then what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.”

She sensed there was more to the story, but he didn’t seem open to sharing as he kept his back to her, striking a match. “What are your parents doing now?”

“My parents have retired to Arizona, where my dad plays a lot of golf and my mom, um, shows off pictures of their grandchildren.”

“Grandchildren?”

“My sister and her husband have two kids, a boy who’s five and a girl who’s four.”

“Those are sweet ages. My nephew is only a year.” Unable to look away, she watched his big capable hands stoke the logs with quick efficiency. “His name is J.T. Most days I get to spend extra time with him, since we have a day care at the gym that my brother uses while he work—”

She stopped short before she spilled her whole flipping life story. What was it about this guy that made her babble on?

Glancing back over his shoulder, Wade stared at her so long she looked behind her… and found nothing.

“Do I have something caught between my teeth?”

He shook his head, dusting bits of bark from his palms as the logs crackled with building heat. “Nah, I’m just enjoying the view. And before you get nervous or offended, I’m about ready to fall on my ass from exhaustion and blood loss.” He winked. “I’m not a threat to your virtue any more here than I was in the cave.”

All the same his words stirred images of what they could have done in that sprawling bed of his two steps up under the skylight.

When she looked back, he’d opened a drawer on the dresser, all the wood light colored with a simple sealant over the natural maple.

He pulled out a couple of perfectly folded items. “T-shirt and drawstring exercise pants for you to sleep in.” He tossed the pile on the counter, the words Air Force stamped in blue across the front. “I’m gonna change into some sweats, in case you were wondering. And I’m gonna clean up again. The shower at base was rushed, to say the least. After I finish, we can talk about where to go next in the morning.”

He was making it too easy to lie to him.

“May I use your computer?” She scooped up the large T-shirt that smelled like him. “I need to email my sister so she can let my family know I’m okay.”

“Of course.” He leaned in the open doorway to a roomy bathroom with a spa shower.

She hauled her eyes off the glassed-in shower and the steamy fantasies it evoked. “Thanks.”

At least she didn’t have to explain the whole phone issue in detail, how they had local telephone service available, but long-distance connections were harder to come by. And most people didn’t want either.

Being out here, things that had once seemed normal now seemed… not so normal. “Thank you. I won’t monopolize it.”

“I’m good. I won’t go through withdrawal if I go another hour without checking messages.” His smile squeezed the guilt inside her all the tighter.

He closed the bathroom door behind him and she rushed to the kitchenette. Dropping into the chair, she stared at the keyboard and screen for a minute to familiarize herself, then logged on to her community’s home page.

Sunny: Misty? Are you there?



She watched the cursor blink, blink, but nothing happened. Her sister must have left the computer logged on while she stepped away.

Sunny: Wanted 2 let U know I’m okay. Got caught by the storm. Safe in Anchorage. Have help from guy who rescued me. Will b home soon.



The next part was tough and didn’t seem right to pass along in an instant message.

Sunny: See my email. Have sad news 2 long to explain here. Love U.



Composing that email was even tougher than she’d expected. Breaking the news of a death this way was unimaginable. But she had to be sure Misty did not leave with the deputy. Heaven only knew why he’d gone off the deep end, but she’d be damned before he got near her sister. And she wasn’t trusting the sheriff to do the job for her in a timely fashion. The deputy was in law enforcement too, after all…

God, she sounded like a paranoid conspiracy theorist.

She logged off. There was nothing more she could do tonight. Even if she found a way to magically get back to the Aleutian Islands before morning, she was simply too dog-tired to start the climb home. Hopefully tomorrow, in the broad daylight, she could construct a logical plan to return as quickly as possible.

The back of her neck prickled with awareness, the sense of being watched. She pivoted in her chair fast to find Wade standing in the bathroom doorway again, sweatpants slung low on his narrow hips. Curly dark hair sprinkled along his chest up to his shoulders—and a small strip of gauze over his stitches, not larger than a Band-Aid. Yet a few inches lower and he could have been dead.

His eyes were surprisingly alert for a person who’d been through so much, and right now his entire attention was focused on her. “The bathroom’s all yours.”

Her throat went so tight she had to force words up and out. “Thanks, uh, I insist on taking the sofa, since you’re injured.” She grabbed the T-shirt off the counter on her way. “So don’t even try to argue some he-man chivalry stuff.”

She charged toward the bathroom, needing to put a door between herself and Wade with no shirt. Too late, she realized he hadn’t moved.

“If you say so,” he answered simply, looking down at her as they stood chest to chest in the narrow doorway.

“Thanks.” The lone word came out breathier than she would have liked, but then she didn’t seem to be in control of much about herself around this guy. “For the shirt and the Internet.”

“So you were able to send an email to your family.” He appeared relaxed. In no hurry to step away from her.

Her throat went dry as dust. She edged back half an inch, the doorframe not budging. The scent of his soap was so vivid she could almost imagine what his skin would taste like if she were to…

She cleared her throat and willed her heartbeat to conduct business as usual.

“I did send a note, thank you. I worry though, about it getting through, since the connection can be spotty, depending on the weather. Hopefully everything will be fine for me to leave in the morning.” What should have filled her with relief also brought a strange kick of regret over saying good-bye to this man. “I guess I should get some sleep.”

He caught her arm as she started to turn, his touch sparking off a delicious reaction inside her. “I just have one more question for you.”

Oh God, how could she have let her guard down so quickly? “What would that be?”

“Why did you kiss me out there?”