her watch. She stared. That couldn’t be the correct time, could it? Where had the night gone? It seemed like only minutes ago that she’d awakened with Flynn in her arms.
Her gaze went to the canvas wall. Where was he now? Was he sleeping? Was he thinking about her?
Idiot, she told herself. She was here because of the mission. As he’d said once before, it was nothing personal. She tugged out the scrunchie she’d used for her ponytail and fluffed out her hair. She grasped the lower edge of her sweater and had started to pull it off when Sarah’s voice stopped her.
“By the way, you’d better yank the chain on that light bulb before you undress, Abbie. The way your cot’s positioned, it would throw your shadow on the wall next to the men.” She yawned. “No point yanking their chains, too.”
Abbie dropped the hem of her sweater and stood up to reach for the chain that dangled from the lightbulb. The cubicle went dim and she stumbled against the edge of her cot. Somehow she managed to get back on without tipping onto the floor.
* * *
The coffee was strong enough to dissolve a spoon, but this was all there was, so Abbie held her breath and took another swallow. She didn’t expect special treatment, and she wasn’t about to complain. Considering the lack of amenities, she was grateful to have found real coffee in a real mug rather than freeze-dried rations or cans of beans or whatever it was that soldiers in the field usually ate.
Propping her elbows on the mess table, she looked around the tent. Everyone seemed to have a job to do except her. Sarah was working at a computer. The pit-bull-like Chief Warrant Officer Esposito was fiddling with the wires that led from what looked like a small radio. Sounds of metal scraping on metal came from the far side of the tent, where she spotted the pale gleam of Rafe Marek’s hair as he bent over some kind of machinery. Other men came and went, saying a few words to her or nodding courteously as they passed by, but no one stopped.
Normally, at this hour on a Saturday morning, Abbie would be reading the paper while she took her time over a second cup of coffee. She’d planned to go to the library today, since her books were due. She’d also planned to work on the crib blanket she was knitting for Ellie’s baby shower. This would be her sister’s third child. Ellie was only twenty-seven, but she and her husband, Tomasz, hadn’t wanted to wait to start their family. Their first had been born nine months after their wedding night.
Abbie’s older sister, Martha, had needed Caesareans with both of her sons and had no intention of having any more. She spent most of her weekends shuttling her boys from piano lessons to soccer practice or whatever new activity had caught their attention. She often joked it was the only way she could escape from the chaos of her husband’s never-ending renovating projects, but anyone could see that she and Barry were as deeply in love now as they had been ten years ago.
Abbie and her sisters had learned by example what a good marriage was like. Their parents had weathered more than thirty-five years of life as a team. They were both strong, competent individuals on their own, yet together they became more. It wasn’t surprising that Abbie had hoped to find the same for herself someday.
Sarah had said that the military was her family. Was it the same for the other soldiers of Eagle Squadron? Only three of the men Abbie had met so far had been wearing wedding rings: Chief Warrant Officer Esposito, the sergeant named Lang and Major Redinger. Were the rest of the men unmarried because of the demands of being a Delta Force commando?
Or was it because the type of man who was drawn to becoming a Delta Force commando preferred to remain unmarried? With the excitement and danger that filled their lives, settling down to a home in the suburbs would seem tame. Someone like Flynn would have too much testosterone to be a good candidate for
Her gaze went to the canvas wall. Where was he now? Was he sleeping? Was he thinking about her?
Idiot, she told herself. She was here because of the mission. As he’d said once before, it was nothing personal. She tugged out the scrunchie she’d used for her ponytail and fluffed out her hair. She grasped the lower edge of her sweater and had started to pull it off when Sarah’s voice stopped her.
“By the way, you’d better yank the chain on that light bulb before you undress, Abbie. The way your cot’s positioned, it would throw your shadow on the wall next to the men.” She yawned. “No point yanking their chains, too.”
Abbie dropped the hem of her sweater and stood up to reach for the chain that dangled from the lightbulb. The cubicle went dim and she stumbled against the edge of her cot. Somehow she managed to get back on without tipping onto the floor.
* * *
The coffee was strong enough to dissolve a spoon, but this was all there was, so Abbie held her breath and took another swallow. She didn’t expect special treatment, and she wasn’t about to complain. Considering the lack of amenities, she was grateful to have found real coffee in a real mug rather than freeze-dried rations or cans of beans or whatever it was that soldiers in the field usually ate.
Propping her elbows on the mess table, she looked around the tent. Everyone seemed to have a job to do except her. Sarah was working at a computer. The pit-bull-like Chief Warrant Officer Esposito was fiddling with the wires that led from what looked like a small radio. Sounds of metal scraping on metal came from the far side of the tent, where she spotted the pale gleam of Rafe Marek’s hair as he bent over some kind of machinery. Other men came and went, saying a few words to her or nodding courteously as they passed by, but no one stopped.
Normally, at this hour on a Saturday morning, Abbie would be reading the paper while she took her time over a second cup of coffee. She’d planned to go to the library today, since her books were due. She’d also planned to work on the crib blanket she was knitting for Ellie’s baby shower. This would be her sister’s third child. Ellie was only twenty-seven, but she and her husband, Tomasz, hadn’t wanted to wait to start their family. Their first had been born nine months after their wedding night.
Abbie’s older sister, Martha, had needed Caesareans with both of her sons and had no intention of having any more. She spent most of her weekends shuttling her boys from piano lessons to soccer practice or whatever new activity had caught their attention. She often joked it was the only way she could escape from the chaos of her husband’s never-ending renovating projects, but anyone could see that she and Barry were as deeply in love now as they had been ten years ago.
Abbie and her sisters had learned by example what a good marriage was like. Their parents had weathered more than thirty-five years of life as a team. They were both strong, competent individuals on their own, yet together they became more. It wasn’t surprising that Abbie had hoped to find the same for herself someday.
Sarah had said that the military was her family. Was it the same for the other soldiers of Eagle Squadron? Only three of the men Abbie had met so far had been wearing wedding rings: Chief Warrant Officer Esposito, the sergeant named Lang and Major Redinger. Were the rest of the men unmarried because of the demands of being a Delta Force commando?
Or was it because the type of man who was drawn to becoming a Delta Force commando preferred to remain unmarried? With the excitement and danger that filled their lives, settling down to a home in the suburbs would seem tame. Someone like Flynn would have too much testosterone to be a good candidate for
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