Chapter 18
Ghost stepped forward. His hand settled on her waist, guiding her backward until her spine hit the weathered siding of the storage shed.
He braced his hands on either side of her head against the wall. Arms locked, body close enough to feel her heat.
Her breath hitched. Ghost's pulse kicked hard in his throat. He'd been holding himself back for weeks, but standing here with her looking up at him, lips parted, eyes wide, his control was shredding fast.
"You drive me insane," he said, voice rougher than he meant it to. "Since day one. You walked in with that damn camera and got under my skin before I even realized it."
Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt. The pull of fabric against his chest sent heat straight through him.
"And baby, I've been trying so fucking hard not to want you."
Her breathing changed, faster, shallower. Ghost could feel it against his chest where they were almost touching.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me," he rasped.
He leaned in, his mouth brushing the shell of her ear. Her scent hit him, dust and sweat and something sweet underneath. "Say the word, baby, and I'll make you forget every reason you ever told yourself not to want this."
"Logan."
His name in her voice broke something in him. Ghost's mouth crashed against hers with no restraint. Just the raw hunger he'd been choking down for too damn long. He kissed her like he needed her to breathe.
Rachel melted into him. Her hands pulled at his shirt, hips pressing against his. Ghost's touch roamed fast and urgent, fingers skating over her ribs, careful of the wound even as everything in him screamed to get closer.
She gasped and the sound went straight to his groin. Heat flooded his system with every movement, every place their bodies touched.
He shifted his grip, pulling her tighter against him. She went soft in his arms, back arching. Ghost caught her weight easily, hands spanning her waist, her ribs, finding the edge of her shirt.
He slowed the kiss. Deeper this time, slower. His tongue swept against hers and she made a sound low in her throat that nearly destroyed him.
Ghost growled, his thumb brushing just under her breast. He was losing it. Could feel his control slipping with every second.
She arched into his touch and Ghost shifted, pressing his hips harder into hers. He was rock hard, straining against his pants, and she had to feel it. Had to know exactly what she was doing to him.
Ghost tore his mouth from hers, breathing like he'd been running. His forehead dropped against hers. His heart was slamming so hard she had to feel it through his chest.
"Rachel." Her name came out wrecked.
"Yeah?" she whispered.
His hands tightened on her waist. He was either anchoring her or trying to hold himself back, he wasn't sure which anymore.
"I've been trying so damn hard to fight this," he said, voice low and shredded. "But I don't think I can anymore."
Her grip on his shirt tightened. "Then don't. Because I don't want you to hold back."
Ghost's breath stopped. Every muscle in his body went taut. She was giving him permission. Telling him to let go.
Fuck.
Ghost’s hands tightened on her waist. His restraint frayed, every instinct screaming at him to pull her back. Then, slowly, he forced himself to step away.
Cold air rushed between them. Rachel inhaled sharp. Her lips were swollen from his kiss, her breathing unsteady. When she looked at him, Ghost knew his face was giving him away, the war between what he wanted and what he should do.
His chest rose and fell fast. His jaw was clenched so tight it ached. This wasn't casual. It was never going to be casual with her.
"Come on," he said. "I need to get you back before I do something we'll both regret."
She looked at him for a long moment. He could see her considering what to say.
"I don't regret a thing, Logan," she said softly. "But I am regretting that this is ending so soon."
Ghost let out a shaky breath, half laugh, half frustration with himself. "Come on, baby." Gentler this time.
He reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. Her palm was warm against his, then he turned, tugging her with him.
They walked back in silence. Ghost's thumb moved in slow circles against her palm without him really thinking about it.
FOB Kilo was quiet this late. A few scattered conversations near the comms tent, the low sounds of gear getting stowed. The sweep was done. Night routines winding down.
Ahead, he heard boots crunching on gravel. The team was filtering back in. Torch returning from the north flank, gear slung over one shoulder. Predator and Rogue wrapping up a side-channel check. Frost and Brick near the eastern gate.
Reaper was already heading back. He spotted them across the path and slowed. His eyes moved from Ghost to Rachel, then back.
He didn't smirk. Didn't say anything. Just gave a single short nod.
Ghost held his gaze a beat longer than necessary, then looked away.
They reached Rachel's barracks. Ghost stopped a pace back from the door.
Neither of them moved. Rachel turned slightly, eyes lifting to his. "So..."
Ghost didn't let her finish. "This changes things."
Her breath caught. He heard it. "Good or bad?"
"Real."
She nodded once and stepped inside. The door closed behind her.
Ghost stood there for a few seconds, staring at the closed door, then turned back toward the compound.
The sweep was over, but whatever line had existed between him and Rachel was gone now, and Reaper wasn't the only one who'd noticed.
Ghost cut across the packed earth toward the team's tent. He felt the shift in attention as he entered.
Torch looked up from his cot, boot in hand. One eyebrow raised slightly.
Brick was already stretched out but his eyes tracked Ghost before closing.
Rogue muttered something low to Predator. Whatever it was got a short, quiet laugh.
Ghost didn't break stride. He stripped down to his base layer, set his rifle beside the cot, and dropped onto the canvas.
The lantern near the back flicked off. The tent went dark.
Ghost stared up at the fabric above him, hands folded across his chest. He could still feel Rachel in his arms, still taste her on his lips.
How she'd pressed into him, certain and unhesitant. How she'd looked at him afterward—open, steady, not asking for promises he couldn't make.
It should've been just a moment. Heat and adrenaline burning off. But it wasn't.
He couldn't shut her out. Not anymore.
Across the tent, someone shifted. A boot hit the floor. Torch exhaled long and slow.
Ghost kept staring at the ceiling. Sleep wasn't coming. All he could think about was how she'd kissed him back—not hesitant, not uncertain. Like she'd chosen him.
He'd been deployed half his life. Knew what happened when you let someone get too close in this work.
But Rachel wasn't a mistake. She was just real.
The heat of her skin. The sound of her breath. The look in her eyes right before she stepped back. All of it was still sharp and clear in his head.
Ghost dragged in a breath and let it out slow.
It was going to be a long sleepless night.