smoke’, ‘diehards get it done’, ‘bounce the rubble’,
‘push the hard deck’…”
“Damn,” Reb uttered.
“Ditto.” Rhett wasn’t sure how to punctuate it, aside from a bewildered stare. Obviously,
Dan Colton wasn’t the first man who’d had to take off his gun belt before climbing
into bed with her—though considering her in bed with some cocky-ass soldier boy was
like biting a brick of gravel. It was hard enough to contemplate her getting horizontal
with Reb in the plane. No. Scratch that. It was fucking impossible.
He chose to focus on the woman herself, despite how her backlash morphed from bitter
to openly hostile. “I could regale you with more—but you know what? None of them matter or apply. I’m not going to ‘sacrifice for the mission’, because to me, this isn’t a mission. This is
my best friend’s life. I’m not going to sit back and just wait to ‘hit my mark’ when
one of you tells me to. I have ideas to contribute, too.”
Oh, yeah. A sensitive nerve. Probably more than one.
But which ones?
He was on unfamiliar ground. And as much as it sucked to admit it, was open to offers
of help—
Even if it meant asking Rebel for it.
But by the time he looked back to his friend, Reb had already picked up the torch.
At Brynn’s side again, he wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her in with the
surety that spoke an undeniable truth. He’d already done it before. Sure enough, Brynn’s
body acquiesced like butter over a flame, softening against him—though her face conveyed
a different story. She wasn’t happy about the biological betrayal. At all .
Rhett’s jaw constricted. Feeling your pain, little peach. More than you know.
“Your ideas are important, cher .” Reb’s voice was firm but intimate, another facet Rhett had never expected to surface
beyond dungeon walls. “And we’ll listen to every one of them—when the time is right.
That time is going to be when we have more intel to work from.”
More conflict sprinted across her features. Her spine stiffened. “So I really am supposed to sit down and shut up?”
Rebel let her push away, earning him massive points in Rhett’s book. Rage was like
diamonds on Brynna Monet. She was five times more gorgeous for it.
“You’re supposed to stay calm and trust this process, Brynna,” Reb ordered. “You’re
supposed to trust us .” He tilted his head, as if seeing into her own. “Last night, you dared me to trust you , that you could handle the pressure if shit went sideways out here. Well, you earned
that trust—but now the scales have to balance back. If you can’t tell us that your
conviction is a hundred percent behind us, speak the hell up now. Double-Oh can get
right back on the hot line, and Sam can be back in Austin with your ride home. Seeing
as how I’m headed back toward town tonight, anyway…”
Her mouth dropped. Definitely a good thing/bad thing. While Rhett forgot about wanting
to pummel Reb’s chest like a victory drum, his distraction was delivered by the perfect O of Brynna’s lips—causing other parts of his body to beat with twice the fury.
“You wouldn’t dare.” Her indignation only made everything worse. So fucking gorgeous. She was the kind of woman who immortalized redheads, Helen of Troy mixed with Ann
Margret, sprinkled with enough Agent Scully and Emma Stone to ensure he forgot all
about his longtime fealty to Scarlett Johansson. This was even worse, because his
mental boner for her was as mighty as the one between his legs. No wonder Rebel had
jumped her during the plane ride—underlining the steel in the guy’s fortitude now.
“We would and we will.” Reb scooped his stare from her to Rhett then back again, building
his conviction by the second. “Unless we have your assurance that we call the shots—for
now.”
She shifted from foot to foot. Drummed her fingers on her thighs. Finally slanted
her head at him,
‘push the hard deck’…”
“Damn,” Reb uttered.
“Ditto.” Rhett wasn’t sure how to punctuate it, aside from a bewildered stare. Obviously,
Dan Colton wasn’t the first man who’d had to take off his gun belt before climbing
into bed with her—though considering her in bed with some cocky-ass soldier boy was
like biting a brick of gravel. It was hard enough to contemplate her getting horizontal
with Reb in the plane. No. Scratch that. It was fucking impossible.
He chose to focus on the woman herself, despite how her backlash morphed from bitter
to openly hostile. “I could regale you with more—but you know what? None of them matter or apply. I’m not going to ‘sacrifice for the mission’, because to me, this isn’t a mission. This is
my best friend’s life. I’m not going to sit back and just wait to ‘hit my mark’ when
one of you tells me to. I have ideas to contribute, too.”
Oh, yeah. A sensitive nerve. Probably more than one.
But which ones?
He was on unfamiliar ground. And as much as it sucked to admit it, was open to offers
of help—
Even if it meant asking Rebel for it.
But by the time he looked back to his friend, Reb had already picked up the torch.
At Brynn’s side again, he wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her in with the
surety that spoke an undeniable truth. He’d already done it before. Sure enough, Brynn’s
body acquiesced like butter over a flame, softening against him—though her face conveyed
a different story. She wasn’t happy about the biological betrayal. At all .
Rhett’s jaw constricted. Feeling your pain, little peach. More than you know.
“Your ideas are important, cher .” Reb’s voice was firm but intimate, another facet Rhett had never expected to surface
beyond dungeon walls. “And we’ll listen to every one of them—when the time is right.
That time is going to be when we have more intel to work from.”
More conflict sprinted across her features. Her spine stiffened. “So I really am supposed to sit down and shut up?”
Rebel let her push away, earning him massive points in Rhett’s book. Rage was like
diamonds on Brynna Monet. She was five times more gorgeous for it.
“You’re supposed to stay calm and trust this process, Brynna,” Reb ordered. “You’re
supposed to trust us .” He tilted his head, as if seeing into her own. “Last night, you dared me to trust you , that you could handle the pressure if shit went sideways out here. Well, you earned
that trust—but now the scales have to balance back. If you can’t tell us that your
conviction is a hundred percent behind us, speak the hell up now. Double-Oh can get
right back on the hot line, and Sam can be back in Austin with your ride home. Seeing
as how I’m headed back toward town tonight, anyway…”
Her mouth dropped. Definitely a good thing/bad thing. While Rhett forgot about wanting
to pummel Reb’s chest like a victory drum, his distraction was delivered by the perfect O of Brynna’s lips—causing other parts of his body to beat with twice the fury.
“You wouldn’t dare.” Her indignation only made everything worse. So fucking gorgeous. She was the kind of woman who immortalized redheads, Helen of Troy mixed with Ann
Margret, sprinkled with enough Agent Scully and Emma Stone to ensure he forgot all
about his longtime fealty to Scarlett Johansson. This was even worse, because his
mental boner for her was as mighty as the one between his legs. No wonder Rebel had
jumped her during the plane ride—underlining the steel in the guy’s fortitude now.
“We would and we will.” Reb scooped his stare from her to Rhett then back again, building
his conviction by the second. “Unless we have your assurance that we call the shots—for
now.”
She shifted from foot to foot. Drummed her fingers on her thighs. Finally slanted
her head at him,
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