Extreme Honor (17 page)

She loved the way he asked, didn't presume, each time. In answer, she twined her legs with his and looked deep into his eyes, then nodded.

He reached down with one hand and positioned himself, then entered her in a smooth slide. She gasped as he filled her, her muscles stretching to accommodate him. This was another way they fit, so, so well.

Once he was buried to the hilt inside her, he paused, his breath hot in her ear. Then he began to move, firm and steady, pulling out and sliding back into her in a deep steady rhythm.

She groaned, her already sensitized body rising to a crest again. “David, please.”

Not even sure what she was asking for, she clutched at his shoulders, tried to encourage him. He drove into her faster, harder, his hands reaching around her to cup her behind and angle her for an even better fit. Every stroke pushed her closer to the edge until she arched under him helplessly, gasping.

He buried his face into her shoulder and growled as he came too, shuddering with the power of his release.

Lyn kept her arms wrapped around him as he slowly relaxed, lowering his weight onto her. His breath was hot against her skin and after a few moments, he rolled to one side and rose up to give her a quick kiss on the bridge of her nose.

“Be right back.” He went into the bathroom and returned a few moments later with a cool, damp washcloth to help wipe her down.

This was a gesture she appreciated, too. His care, and the way he wanted to see to her comfort, took their time together beyond sex to something much more intimate. She wanted this.

Once he settled back onto the bed with her, she snuggled up against his side, content.

“What's on the agenda for Atlas's training later today?”

He froze next to her.

Unsettled, she rose up on one arm so she could see his face. “I didn't mean to break the mood. No work talk in bed?”

She'd said it in a semi-teasing tone, but lost even that as his brows drew together.

He sat up. “I'd wanted to talk to you about this, but I didn't plan for us to get distracted.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Us sleeping together is getting distracted?”

He reached out and ran his hand up her arm. “You are absolutely a distraction, in really good ways. Please don't take this wrong.”

She drew in a slow breath. “Okay. I'll try not to, but let's get back to what you got distracted from.”

“This is going to be bad timing.” He eyed her with trepidation.

Oh, great
. “Better bad timing than not talking to me at all.”

He nodded, ran a hand through his hair, then got started. “I was coming over here to talk to you about how we were going to move forward with Atlas's training schedule.”

She nodded. So far, nothing to be worried about.

“You've done incredible things with his rehabilitation. His socialization is up to par based on the last couple of days of travel.” He paused and she waited. His words came out faster. “I wanted to suggest we adjust your participation in his training to intermittent sessions while I focus more on his specialized skill sets for explosives detection and human search.”

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. Dogs like Atlas searched out humans for other reasons than the search-and-rescue dogs trained in the United States. There were other reactions built into Atlas's training, other behaviors expected. He was expected to act more independently in the search and respond differently on locating said human. She could understand how she didn't have the experience in the training technique to work with Atlas for those behaviors.

Still, this was more than two trainers talking about techniques. She gathered the sheets up around her, suddenly vulnerable.

“Intermittent.” She said the word slowly. “What sort of intervals?”

“Well, maybe twice this coming week, then we could move to once a week or even once every other week. You could go check on your other clients and come back for his sessions.” David's voice had gone neutral, the way he did when he wanted to distance himself from a situation. Compartmentalizing.

“You want me to leave.” Oh God, and they'd just slept together. “This was good-bye sex?”

“No!” He tried to reach for her but stopped when she flinched back.

“Sounds like it is.” Embarrassment and anger burned through her.

“I don't want to say good-bye, Lyn, but I want you safe.” David didn't sound neutral anymore. In fact, the urgency in his tone drew her gaze back to his. “Atlas and me, we're in this. We're going to find out exactly what happened to Calhoun and we're going to make sure this video doesn't get buried. The deeper we get into this, the more likely shit is going to rain down around my head. I want you clear of it all.”

She couldn't argue with the danger. The car chase the other night had frightened the hell out of her.

“When this is over, I'd like to come to you.” David leaned toward her. “Or you can come back here, whichever you want. I'd like for us to see where this thing between us goes.”

“But you want me to give up my work with Atlas. Just leave.” She gritted her teeth. “I think you need to grab your clothes and step out.”

“Lyn—”

She shook her head. “You want me to think about this with a cool head, you need to take yourself out of here.”

He studied her for a minute, then did as she asked.

W
hat's wrong?”

Cruz scowled at Rojas where he sat at the breakfast bar playing some game on his smartphone. “Who says anything's wrong?”

“You've been glued to Lyn's side since she got here.” Forte pulled open the fridge and peered inside. “If you're not with her, you're with the dogs or in your office at your computer. Since you walked in here and sat your ass down in a chair, I figure Rojas's got a point. Something's wrong.”

“True.” Cruz took the beer Forte offered him and took a swig as he thought about how to fix the mess he'd made. He didn't hide anything from Forte or Rojas. It was part of the reason they were able to live with each other. Trust.

In fact, he'd sought them out. Staying inside your own head for too long resulted in spinning wheels. He needed their perspectives to see his way clear.

“So where's Lyn?” Forte asked, leaning against the counter.

The three of them lingered like this sometimes. It wasn't as if they were lifelong friends. They'd served together and in a lot of ways they knew more about each other, because of that intense period of time, than most people ever found out in a lifetime. It'd been Forte who'd told Cruz and Rojas to come to Pennsylvania. And hell, Cruz hadn't had anyplace in particular he'd wanted to go right out of the service. Neither had Rojas. The man had only had one prerequisite: a safe place to raise his daughter. Hope's Crossing Kennels had been a place to start, and if Cruz hadn't been a fit he'd have moved on. Only, Forte had made it the right place to be for all of them. Expectations were straightforward. Life was pretty simple. And it was a life.

Cruz hadn't realized he'd been missing anything until Lyn came along, and now he'd told her to leave.

“Packing.” Cruz sounded sullen and he didn't want to. It'd been a solid decision. Logical.

The other two men froze.

After a moment, Rojas started playing his game again. “You get into a fight or decide things were getting too complicated?”

Of course the other two had noticed. They'd spent their military careers taking cues from body posture, subtle signals, and the smallest gestures. Either of them could've noticed the new intimacy in the way Lyn responded to him from the moment they'd returned. Maybe even as soon as they'd stepped out of the car. He'd have noticed if it'd been one of them.

“Complicated.” Cruz scowled at the beer. It was cold but not cold enough. Or he was too irritated to enjoy it. “This thing with the video Calhoun sent me. There's too much shit involved. She'd be in the line of fire.”

Cruz glanced around. Rojas's daughter was likely over at the cottage they shared but he should've checked before shooting off his mouth. They all tried to keep the cursing to a minimum around the Boom. Unfortunately, the kid walked around quiet as a cat and hell, they all cursed worse than sailors.

Rojas shook his head without taking his eyes off his game. “Woman's already been attacked twice. At the hotel and right here on this property.”

Forte growled.

“Not a one of us is happy about how that happened and it won't happen again,” Rojas continued. They all had reasons to ensure the security of this place. It'd become a haven. It needed to stay that way. “But what I'm saying is this: she's already been yanked directly into the middle of whatever is going on. You're not going to save her any issues by sending her away.”

Forte nodded. “Whoever tossed her hotel room thought she had information and it was before we even knew what Calhoun had left with Atlas. They think she's a part of it and she is at risk no matter how far away you send her.”

Cruz scowled. “I can keep focus on me. I've got lines on at least one more of the SEALs on that team. One of them is going to give away more than they intend to. We're all good, but over enough time we all develop cracks in our stories.”

He hadn't been a SEAL but he'd been Special Forces. And he'd been a man with secrets to keep. The trouble with need-to-know information was if you knew, you didn't want to. Secrets lived with you forever and eventually you were desperate for a way to purge them. One of these guys wished he was out but he had family to protect. There had to be at least one or two more who wanted out.

“Maybe so.” Forte spoke slowly. He had a tendency to think as he spoke and random brilliance occasionally fell out of his mouth. Most of the time, though, it was bullshit. Still, the rare jewels of wisdom were worth it. “I'm thinking anyone with enough influence to have SEALs afraid on domestic soil, not just on a mission, has a far enough reach to cause her harm the minute she leaves this property.”

So this time was one of those one in a million moments where Forte's point was so true, it should've been obvious to David from the beginning.

Cruz cursed again.

“It's too dangerous here. They've got eyes on her already.” Cruz couldn't see a way to get Lyn out of this mess. “She's got clients on the West Coast, a business to run after all this is over.”

“And she planned to be here until this project was complete, right?” Rojas asked.

“Yeah. It was open-ended, though. No idea when Atlas is going to be declared recovered.” Beckhorn had Cruz's back on that. It was the way any of them worked. They took as long as the dog needed to be ready for the work it had to do. And every dog was different.

“I'm guessing she didn't have clients scheduled any time soon because of that.” Rojas could be so damned reasonable. “She's not going to have an immediate job to pick up where this one lets off.”

Great. More guilt to add to the weight in Cruz's chest.

He shook his head. “You've both got good thoughts. No disrespect here, but I've got a gut feeling. She needs to get out of here. I've got no logic to go up against the reasoning you've put out there. It's just a feeling.”

And even as he admitted it, he hated it. Because it wasn't a logical decision. He didn't have good reasons even if he'd convinced himself he did. And Lyn was a smart woman. She'd have refuted his reasons every bit as effectively as Forte and Rojas had just done if Cruz had given her a chance. Only he hadn't. And he'd probably damaged whatever it was between them in the process.

She was very mad at him. And when she had time to cool off and really think it through, she was going to be over here to tell him exactly what his two best friends already had.

He raised his gaze and looked each of them directly in the eyes. “Something isn't right. She needs to get someplace safe.”

They got it. He could see it in their expressions. Sometimes it wasn't about logic. They'd all learned to follow their instincts when everything else in the world told them to do different. Following those gut feelings had seen them through hell and back, through multiple deployments each. Sometimes the world didn't make sense.

“You could lose her if you push her out of here.” Rojas's warning was almost inaudible. He would know. He'd lost a wife by pushing her away. “If she decides to move on before you catch back up with her, are you ready to deal with that?”

No.

Cruz swallowed. “I'm going to have to.”

This was the right thing to do. And if nothing else, each one of them did his damned best to do the right thing.

When Lyn came through the door, both Forte and Rojas made a break for it.

“Good luck, man.” Forte gave him a parting slap on the back.

Great thing about brotherhood: they were willing to leave a man to the inevitable without any witnesses to see him ripped to shreds. Cruz appreciated it.

Lyn strode into the kitchen and came to a stop outside of arm's reach. The distance she left between them hit him like a brick wall. She'd changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a soft knit top. Its fabric clung to her curves and he wanted nothing more than to run his hands over her. Her hair was gathered up in a knot, looking suspiciously wet. She must've taken a shower. He should've stayed and joined her.

But no. He'd gone and pushed her away, so he needed to clear his head of things he shouldn't be caught up in thinking and focus on what she had to say. Thing was, she muddied up his brain process without even trying.

She lifted her chin. “I've been thinking about what you said. Not one of your reasons holds up against good, solid reasoning.”

Here we go.

He was hoping she'd listen to him once he let her blow off her steam. Maybe she'd understand if he explained. He was willing to give it a try. She was the most instinctual trainer he'd ever met and if anyone could understand what was driving him to risk this thing they had, it'd be her. He hoped.

“I'm listening.” He turned toward her in his seat, giving her his full attention because she deserved it.

Maybe she wasn't used to it, because she hesitated. It took her a full minute to recover, visibly gather her thoughts and open her mouth to speak.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Forte was back. “Beckhorn has been trying to get ahold of you and you haven't been answering your phone. We've got company waiting at the main gate and neither of you is going to be happy with what they're here for.”

Atlas.

He'd gotten pretty good at reading her expressions. Same thought crossed her mind and there was a hint of fear, too. They'd both been ready for a scuffle but neither of them had been prepared to let Atlas go. He'd brought them together.

They moved for the front door in unison.

Lyn nabbed her laptop bag on the way out the front door, letting David get a step ahead of her. He'd outdistance her regardless, with his ground-eating stride and longer legs. When he didn't, she was silently grateful. The partnership between them wasn't gone, despite his telling her to leave earlier.

Please don't let this be over yet.

They'd barely started to explore what was between them and had only made partial progress with Atlas. She wasn't ready to leave either of those unfinished.

The two men at the front gate were standing next to a blocky SUV, bare to the point of utilitarian. But then, she was used to the rental SUVs with frills and extra features. It wasn't obviously a military vehicle as far as she knew but it didn't look like the usual thing an average person would buy, either.

Add to it their stance and general attitude and Lyn figured they had to be military. Spending time around David, Brandon, and Alex had gotten her used to the body language. Neither appeared to be particularly intimidating and, in fact, wore such neutral expressions she studied them even more closely.

David probably saw more than she did. Whatever this situation was, and she had her suspicions, she was glad she was side by side with him. Standing up to these men alone would've been a lot more of a challenge.

The men waited for them to approach rather than coming to meet them. When David came to a stop, so did she, at a distance slightly farther away than would normally allow for comfortable conversation. Already there were irritating undercurrents being exchanged between David and the strangers. Glances and minute frowns. Dogs and cats weren't the only ones that got into pissing contests.

“David Cruz and Evelyn Jones?” the older man asked, but it sounded more like a statement than a question. He knew he had the right people. “Sergeant Zuccolin. I have orders to retrieve the military asset known as Atlas. Came through early this morning. Captain Beckhorn has been notified.”

Lyn preferred straightforward souls like David, Alex, and Brandon. This man talked more like a politician despite his brevity. His tone was too pleasant. He spoke as if they were all good friends and this wouldn't be met with any protest of any kind.

“I'd like to see a copy of those orders, Sergeant Zuccolin.” David's tone was flat.

The older man clenched his jaw. “I'm sure Captain Beckhorn has forwarded them to you electronically.”

“To be honest, there may have been a lag in communication.” David made it sound as if that sort of thing happened all the time. “He only called as we were informed of your arrival. I had to choose between coming out to greet you and speaking to him. If you men wouldn't mind waiting a few minutes, I'd be happy to call him back to hear what he has to say.”

“There's coffee up at the main house.” Lyn regretted mentioning it immediately. Both strangers gave her the once-over and dismissed her from consideration. The look was so incredibly familiar from her childhood and the occasions when her father had brought guests to the house. She cursed herself for not choosing something with more impact to say first.

A person has seconds to establish an impression. In terms of appearance, she was slight and definitely a civilian. On opening her mouth, she hadn't had any great contribution to the conversation. Anything she said from here on out would barely be heard.

Damn it. She had better social skills than this.

The only reason she could think of for being this off-balance was the discussion with her stepfather directly followed by her aborted faceoff with David. Too many thoughts were churning inside her head and she hadn't had a chance to resolve anything. She'd need to shove all that aside and quickly.

“Waiting won't be necessary.” Sergeant Zuccolin glanced at his companion, who stepped over to their car and retrieved a folder from the passenger side. “We brought a hard copy.”

“Appreciated.” No irritation in David's comment or expression. These men were all going on minimal auditory or body language cues. Poker would be torture with any of them.

David read through the orders. It took a few minutes and they all waited. She cheered inwardly as he took the time to look for the loophole. There had to be one.

Then as he looked up and met her gaze, she realized it was because he couldn't find one. The men had come here and could afford to wait because there wasn't anything David could do. She stared at him. Opened her mouth.