Chapter 6 #2
She gripped her book tighter and gave the long dining table surrounded by mismatched chairs a last look before backtracking. This door opened into a gym.
Weights lined one wall and there were several benches and treadmills. A punching bag hung in one corner and there were mats stacked against the far wall. It was all too easy to envision the big men training here, pumping iron, chests glistening with sweat.
One thickly muscled body in particular filled her mind, and she bit down on her lip.
Then she heard a low murmur and lifted her head. She followed the sound until she faced several closed doors. One appeared to be thicker than the rest. Voices filtered through it, muffled and impossible to make out, and the door had a keypad lock.
When it came to snooping for Christmas presents, curiosity had always gotten the best of her. But she knew better than to interrupt whatever was going on in that room.
She settled cross-legged on the floor to wait for someone to hear the case she was determined to plead.
She tucked one leg under her and pulled the other in closer, the book on photography open in her lap. Though she turned the pages, she barely saw the artistic photographs.
She darted another look at the closed door she sat outside of and tried to pick out words, but she couldn’t.
The base also insulated her from the sounds of the storm the guys claimed was still raging outside. She didn’t think they’d keep her here if it wasn’t true—but if they could fly out, she could as well.
She flipped a page, briefly glancing at the image of a rainforest, lush and green and completely opposite of her current world. She never had adventures, but this disaster made her wonder if she ever wanted another.
Losing her parents unexpectedly at a young age made her overly cautious. Worrying herself sick over how one unequipped teenager was going to keep three kids alive made her the opposite of adventurous.
Which was why her siblings gave her the adventure fund. Jake worked overtime to scrounge up extra money for her. Tanner picked up trash at the sports arena after games. And Lara worked nights and weekends at her crappy retail job, not saving for college like she claimed—but so Jolie could have fun.
Tears filled her eyes as they always did whenever she thought about her family. Tragedy had brought them all closer, and made them love harder. Which was why it was killing her that she couldn’t contact them.
She didn’t belong here, and her siblings would be losing their minds by now.
Jolie should be there with them, reassuring them she was fine, that she’d taken some great photos before getting snowed in. She’d had her adventure.
With a very hot military man.
She dropped her head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling for a moment, drowning in memories of Archer’s kisses… and his touch. It layered on top of the frustration and fear over her situation.
She blew out a breath and forced her attention back to the page, but no pretty pictures could stop her from thinking about Archer.
Long minutes passed, and she’d flipped through a dozen more pages, when suddenly the voices beyond the door paused.
As a grating noise of chairs scraping concrete filtered out to Jolie, she slammed the book shut and leaped to her feet just as the door flew open.
She tucked the book under her arm and wiped her palms on her jeans. “Are you done with your little meeting?” she asked.
The man they called O arched a brow. “Our little meeting? That’s the war room.”
“Sorry. Are you done with your little meeting in the war room?”
Several more men filed out. O stuck out his elbow to stop one. “You hear that, Townie?”
The man with a permanent—and hot—crease between his brows eyed her. “It’s not like we were singing Kumbaya.”
A man stopped behind him in the doorway and she just knew it was Archer. She didn’t meet his eyes for fear that she couldn’t control the look on her face when it did.
He stepped out, and even the walls stretched to accommodate him.
Cannon’s gaze landed on her. “Can I help you?”
Jolie cradled the book against her chest, more to hold herself together than anything else. “Yes. I was just wondering when I can make a call.”
Cannon gave her a single nod. “We’re going to try to get you out tonight.”
The words struck with a rush of relief that made her sag. Finally! Tonight she could call her siblings and hear their voices.
On the heels of her relief came a sharp pang. Leaving meant that whatever strange, intense, not-quite-real bubble she and Archer were in was about to burst.
Without meaning to, she met his stare, and her chest burned. Even though she’d known they were temporary, she wasn’t prepared for it to feel complicated and messy.
Under different circumstances…she and Archer could have been something more.
But something more meant choosing herself for once, and she’d spent too many years choosing everyone else to know how.
The guys drifted down the hall, passing her and Archer as if they’d stepped into that bubble that held them apart from the rest.
When they were alone, she lifted her stare to his. The tendon in the crease of his jaw jumped, but he didn’t speak.
His stare said it all.
Come with me.
Without a word, he turned and started down the hallway, and she paused only a heartbeat before following him. They turned one corner, and another. They passed the common room and the gym. O and Townie were already racking weights for a lifting session.
Her stare stayed fixed on Archer’s muscled back, the carved lines straining his shirt and making her fingers twitch to feel them move beneath her hands.
Tonight. She was leaving tonight.
She should be thinking about her siblings and getting back to her life. Instead, all she could think about was the heat Archer’s touch left behind.
He reached his bedroom door and pushed it open, stopping just inside his room.
She had a strange feeling that whatever step they were about to take might feel like a freefall for both of them.
Reaching out, she traced her fingertip along the jagged runic letters on his forearm. “What does this say?”
“It says Sierra.” His jaw flexed again. “The name of the team.”
She ran her fingertip over the glyph-style lettering. “You tattooed your team on yourself?”
“Before I even got here.”
“Cocky.” She smiled up into his eyes.
“Committed.”
In a blink, he grabbed her by the waist and yanked her against him even as he shut the door and whirled her back to it.
She gasped into his mouth, and he fed her his tongue in a heated stroke. Her knees buckled, and she clung to his broad shoulders, her body already rocking into him, craving him.
He tore from the kiss, chest heaving. “You’re leaving tonight.”
The words came out rough, almost angry. But the look in his eyes held something far more dangerous than anger.
Want.
“That’s what I heard too.”
“Jolie—”
She didn’t let him finish, didn’t let him say any of the things she wasn’t sure wouldn’t haunt her after she was gone.
She gripped his shirt, dragging him forward as her lips found his again. He ran his hands from her waist to her hips and lifted her. Her back hit the door with a solid thud, but she barely registered it under the rush of heat pulsing in her core.
She wrapped her legs around him, yanking him closer, locking him to her as their mouths met in urgent passes. Confusion warred with passion—she wanted to go home to her family, but she was beginning to see she wanted more.
He ripped his mouth away again, raking his stubble down her throat and making her gasp as he licked a path to her collarbone. “Thought you wanted out of here,” he muttered against her skin.
“Not yet.” She lifted his head to kiss him again, deeper this time and more intense.
She worked at his shirt, careful of the bandages across his side as she bunched the fabric and shoved it up, needing to feel the velvet steel of him one more time.
She paused, fingers hovering over the gauze. “You’re sure you feel up to it?”
He pinned her to the wall, gaze swirling with desire. “A few little cuts can’t stop me.” He shifted his body to help her remove his shirt. She tossed it on the floor and ducked her head to nip at his neck.
“Jolie—” The rough edge in his tone made her stop with her mouth pressed to his skin.
“Archer… Don’t make this…anything else.”
Because even though it had just been a rescue and one night in Archer’s bed, she couldn’t deal with “anything else.” Not when her whole life was made up of what-ifs and what-might-have-beens.
He stilled for a beat, then his mouth was back on hers and his grip tightened while the line they were about to cross disappeared completely.