Chapter 10
Her heart was still pounding from the sprint across the compound.
She jogged across the yard, boots slipping in the mud, and ducked beneath a metal awning that jutted out from the fence line. It cut the worst of the wind but did nothing for the cold. She exhaled slowly, catching her breath, and looked up.
Ghost was already there.
Leaning against the beam with his arms crossed, like he'd been waiting for her. Rachel's pulse kicked again, different this time.
She straightened and wiped her face with her sleeve. "I get why they call you Ghost."
His eyebrow lifted. "Do you?"
She offered a small smile, rainwater dripping from her hair. "Yeah. You're always just... there. Never in the way, but I turn around and boom—there you are."
His gaze dropped for the briefest second, then back up, locked on hers. “It’s part of the job,” he said quietly. “Sticking to the edges. Watching.”
She held his stare. "You watch everyone this closely, or am I special?"
"I'm observant." His mouth almost shifted into something that wasn't quite a smile. "You're just worth observing."
Rachel held his gaze, the corners of her mouth tugging slightly as the implication settled between them. “Good to know I’m worth watching.” She let it hang there a moment before shifting the weight of the conversation, voice softer now. “What’s the real story behind your callsign?”
Ghost didn’t answer right away. His posture stayed still, arms crossed, expression unreadable. For a moment, she thought he’d ignore it, then he exhaled through his nose, quiet, like the edge of a laugh. “You really want to know how I earned it?”
Rachel nodded.
He pushed off the post, arms dropping to his sides. His movements were slow, considered. Like the words that followed cost him something to say. “Hell Week,” he said. “BUD/S training. Twenty-four weeks of no sleep, freezing surf, instructors whose sole job is to try to get you to quit.”
“I wasn’t the loudest,” he said. “Wasn’t the biggest. Definitely not the strongest, but I didn’t stop.
” His voice stayed flat, but his shoulders locked up.
Old memories had a way of living in your body.
“One night they sent us on a ten-mile surf run. Everyone was soaked and shaking. Half the class was ready to drop out. Guy next to me… he was done. Couldn’t take another step. ”
Rachel pictured it. Ghost, soaked to the bone, moving through the pain.
“He was drowning,” Ghost said. “Didn’t quit, but he was close. I didn’t say anything or give him a chance to argue, just put my shoulder under his and walked. One mile at a time.”
He took a deep breath. “The instructors noticed and said I moved like a ghost—always there, just getting the job done.” He looked away. That was all he was going to give.
Rachel let the silence stretch, studying his face. “You really don’t think that’s a big deal, do you?”
He shrugged. “Anyone would’ve done it.”
She smiled faintly. “No. They wouldn’t have.”
Ghost stood there, watching her.
Rachel's gaze traveled down slowly, his shoulders, the way his wet shirt clung to his chest, his forearms corded with muscle and slick with rain.
His hands hung loose at his sides but his fingers kept moving, small adjustments he probably didn't realize he was making.
She took her time looking, then dragged her eyes back up.
Met his stare. "Since you seem to always be observing me, I thought I'd return the favor. "
Ghost's breathing changed, deeper and more controlled. His gaze traveled down her body deliberately, taking his time, from her face to where her soaked shirt was plastered against her skin. His jaw tightened.
Rachel's voice dropped lower. "You keep looking at me like that, someone might think you're interested."
His eyes snapped back to hers. "Maybe I am."
She inhaled sharply.
He stepped toward her, closing the distance until she could feel heat radiating off him despite the cold rain hammering the awning above them. His hand came up slow and careful. The back of his knuckles grazed her cheek, feather-light.
Rachel's eyes went half-closed, her lips parted slightly.
Ghost's head dipped. Rachel leaned in, barely an inch. Close enough now that she could feel his breath warm against her mouth. His hand slid from her cheek to cup her jaw, thumb brushing across her lower lip.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
His other hand came to her waist, fingers spreading across her hip through the wet fabric. Each point of contact like a brand. One more second and his mouth would be on hers.
Footsteps slammed against concrete behind them, fast and heavy. "Ghost. Commander needs you. Now."
Rachel jerked back, her breath coming too fast. Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
Ghost stayed frozen for a full beat, his hand still on her face. His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths. He swallowed hard, his eyes searching hers one last time, then dropped his hand and turned without a word.
Rachel watched him walk away, every muscle in her body still coiled tight. She stayed beneath the awning, rain hammering down around her. Her cheek still tingled where he'd touched her. Her waist still felt warm from his hand.
They hadn't kissed. Hadn't crossed that line.
But God, she'd wanted to.
And from the way he'd looked at her, the way his hand had shaken slightly when he touched her face, he'd wanted it too.