of knowing she’d nearly gotten shot down while providing cover for their exit from Iraq.
“How’d you get the name Striker?”
Figuring out the tangents a woman took was one of the things he had learned long ago not to even try to do. Bruce stretched out in his chair, crossed his ankles, and smiled at her. “August ’89, The Game.” The memory was a rich one. “The PJs were playing the SEALs for the division playoffs. I struck out on a fastball and I’ve never been able to redeem myself.”
“Over a decade and you still have the handle.”
He flexed his fist as he smiled. “I somehow manage to renew it every year.”
Her laughter was soft and spontaneous. “I wish I hadn’t been tagged with Gracie.”
“Why?”
“I don’t think I’m particularly graceful.”
“It’s how others see you. How I see you.”
“Jill once said you specialized in being kind. She was right.”
Her words surprised him, and he wished she could see what others did. She’d nearly melted her cousin’s heart with that promise to be around to grow old. She smiled at him and Bruce felt warmth curl around his heart.
He’d love to keep her up talking but it wouldn’t be fair. Her evening had been even longer than his. She would have launched from the GW hours before that rescue. “Have you taken something for that headache?”
“Yes.” She reached for the water bottle. “I’m sorry about your hand.”
“It will heal. Friction tore through the gloves by the end of the drop.”
“I wasn’t on the channel to hear radio traffic, but I could see you were having an interesting night. Was that a normal mission?”
“The ones involving water are much more scary.”
She blinked. He liked her laughter. It bubbled. “You’re serious.”
“We train for nights like tonight. I’m glad we were able to get in and get them out quickly.”
She thought about that, her gaze probing his expression as she rolled that answer around, testing it. “Ecuador was like this, only not as quick.”
Ecuador had been much, much worse than this. He’d seen a man he was trying to reach shot in the head. “Yes.”
“Do the risks bother you?”
Only the failures. That kind of reassurance she didn’t need to hear tonight. “Not really,” he replied easily. “I only live once. I long ago decided I wanted to do something that mattered. Hauling guys out of danger is worth the risk.”
“I feel that way about flying, that I was born with a love for it.”
“Why the Navy?”
“I hate flying level and slow.”
She was priceless. “You don’t do much of that in the Navy,” Bruce agreed, smiling at her and wondering what it would take to someday convince her to take him flying with her. She’d probably try to make him toss his lunch with a few snap rolls.
Grace pushed back her chair. “Come on, help me find the place where I dumped my stuff. This base is so big I get lost getting from point A to B .”
“Have your billeting slip?”
She tugged open the pocket of her flight suit. “Somewhere.”
He glanced at the piece of paper she found. “Easy; first building past the fitness center. But quite a hike from here.”
“You’ve stayed on this base before?”
“A few times. It’s our hub for deployments in this area. They’ve got a great bowling alley.”
They walked outside. The night had comfortably cooled and the stars were bright. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to sleep on a bed that’s not rocking.”
“Somehow I think exhaustion will compensate.”
They passed the family community center. “This way.” Bruce pointed left.
Instead she stopped and turned in a full circle. “You know, if I didn’t know better, we could be on a base in the States. It’s obvious Americans helped build this side of the Turkish air base. Even the buildings look like those from home.”
“Homesick?”
“Some. I miss the small things. My apartment is over a bakery. I miss waking up to the smell of fresh bread in
“How’d you get the name Striker?”
Figuring out the tangents a woman took was one of the things he had learned long ago not to even try to do. Bruce stretched out in his chair, crossed his ankles, and smiled at her. “August ’89, The Game.” The memory was a rich one. “The PJs were playing the SEALs for the division playoffs. I struck out on a fastball and I’ve never been able to redeem myself.”
“Over a decade and you still have the handle.”
He flexed his fist as he smiled. “I somehow manage to renew it every year.”
Her laughter was soft and spontaneous. “I wish I hadn’t been tagged with Gracie.”
“Why?”
“I don’t think I’m particularly graceful.”
“It’s how others see you. How I see you.”
“Jill once said you specialized in being kind. She was right.”
Her words surprised him, and he wished she could see what others did. She’d nearly melted her cousin’s heart with that promise to be around to grow old. She smiled at him and Bruce felt warmth curl around his heart.
He’d love to keep her up talking but it wouldn’t be fair. Her evening had been even longer than his. She would have launched from the GW hours before that rescue. “Have you taken something for that headache?”
“Yes.” She reached for the water bottle. “I’m sorry about your hand.”
“It will heal. Friction tore through the gloves by the end of the drop.”
“I wasn’t on the channel to hear radio traffic, but I could see you were having an interesting night. Was that a normal mission?”
“The ones involving water are much more scary.”
She blinked. He liked her laughter. It bubbled. “You’re serious.”
“We train for nights like tonight. I’m glad we were able to get in and get them out quickly.”
She thought about that, her gaze probing his expression as she rolled that answer around, testing it. “Ecuador was like this, only not as quick.”
Ecuador had been much, much worse than this. He’d seen a man he was trying to reach shot in the head. “Yes.”
“Do the risks bother you?”
Only the failures. That kind of reassurance she didn’t need to hear tonight. “Not really,” he replied easily. “I only live once. I long ago decided I wanted to do something that mattered. Hauling guys out of danger is worth the risk.”
“I feel that way about flying, that I was born with a love for it.”
“Why the Navy?”
“I hate flying level and slow.”
She was priceless. “You don’t do much of that in the Navy,” Bruce agreed, smiling at her and wondering what it would take to someday convince her to take him flying with her. She’d probably try to make him toss his lunch with a few snap rolls.
Grace pushed back her chair. “Come on, help me find the place where I dumped my stuff. This base is so big I get lost getting from point A to B .”
“Have your billeting slip?”
She tugged open the pocket of her flight suit. “Somewhere.”
He glanced at the piece of paper she found. “Easy; first building past the fitness center. But quite a hike from here.”
“You’ve stayed on this base before?”
“A few times. It’s our hub for deployments in this area. They’ve got a great bowling alley.”
They walked outside. The night had comfortably cooled and the stars were bright. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to sleep on a bed that’s not rocking.”
“Somehow I think exhaustion will compensate.”
They passed the family community center. “This way.” Bruce pointed left.
Instead she stopped and turned in a full circle. “You know, if I didn’t know better, we could be on a base in the States. It’s obvious Americans helped build this side of the Turkish air base. Even the buildings look like those from home.”
“Homesick?”
“Some. I miss the small things. My apartment is over a bakery. I miss waking up to the smell of fresh bread in
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