Chapter 8
James Hyatt
How the fuck had I ended up here?
I’d been perfectly content to truck along as I had, with zero expectations, nothing set in stone, no real prospects or plans, and then Kiera stormed into my orbit and threatened me with a lifetime of happiness and hope.
Hope was a dangerous thing.
So was happiness—and a single “chance” could change everything.
No promises, she’d said. No predicting the future. Just a date to “see if there’s more.”
Well, I already knew there was more.
And more was the shit that gave us things to lose.
When we had things to lose, we calculated risks differently.
We set different boundaries and changed our outlooks.
I could already feel myself more on edge because I’d have someone to protect in the cargo when we picked up three operators outside Jalalabad tomorrow. Because if something happened to her…
It was personal now.
Goddammit.
Goddamn her.
Fucking feelings and shit.
After returning the last seat cushion to the helicopter and making sure the seats were adjusted correctly, I made my way back to our little camp. Kiera was tidying up and packing my puzzles and books.
“I thought you were gonna rest,” I said, leaning against the doorway.
Her period had started right on time after I’d succumbed to her wicked ways and agreed to give us a real chance.
Something she was likely to regret, sooner or later.
But it was what it was. I was clearly too weak to resist her, so I’d be around until she’d had enough.
In the meantime, I was getting to experience her with cramps and a bit of a grumpy attitude. The latter was cute.
“It’s okay. It’s good to move around,” she replied. “Although, I do wonder how someone can pack to stay a whole week at a place like this and not bring chocolate.”
I felt my mouth twitch. She’d brought up chocolate about half a dozen times today alone.
“I’ll give you all the chocolate you can eat once we’re back in civilization,” I promised. “Which we should discuss—if you’re up to it.”
“Yeah, of course.” She straightened up and winced, presumably from the pain, and she rubbed at her back. “I cannot wait to go back to the land of tampons.”
I chuckled and couldn’t help but wince too. I felt for her. Noura had provided some pads, though Kiera claimed they’d been different. And up here… Well, she’d gotten creative with the fabric from the burqa.
The sun was setting over the mountains, and we sat down by the fire.
We’d wrecked both chairs by now.
She got as comfortable as she could between my legs, and I squeezed her to me.
Seriously, what the fuck was she doing to me?
“I’m sorry for being so cranky,” she sighed.
I pressed a kiss to her shoulder and shifted my hands down her back. More specifically, the sides of her lower back. She said the cramps spread to there.
“We’re not sure it’s the cramps yet,” I said. “It could be my constant state of grumpy rubbing off on you. I hear couples eventually sync everything from wardrobes to moods.”
She giggled tiredly and peered back at me. “You called us a couple.”
Yeah, well.
Fuck.
“That’s on you,” I told her. “You set the trap and caught me. I tried to fight against this for your sake, but now you’re stuck.”
She shook her head in amusement and leaned back against me again. “For my sake… You’re funny.”
It sure as fuck hadn’t been for my own sake. She was a walking fantasy—and she was smart, funny as hell, gorgeous, and independent. Reeling me in couldn’t have required much effort.
“So, about the future…?” she hedged.
Right.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah. So…I’m definitely in—when it comes to giving us a real chance, as you said.
And if you catch me actin’ hesitant, it ain’t because of my own doubts.
It’s because former partners have eventually split when I can’t be around enough.
Which, yeah—it’s changing. My fieldwork days are on their last chapter.
But it’s a slow transition.” I scratched the side of my head and scrambled to find an example.
“Just last week, for instance. Literally on the evening I flew to Kabul, I came home from a week of drills off the grid. And in the next few weeks, I will have two trips down to South America. I fly out on the 27th.”
“Fun. Where to?”
That was her question?
“Or maybe you’re not allowed to divulge?”
Uh. “No, it’s fine. It’s not a contract in that way. I told you we take on recruits every year, right?”
“Yes, and they’ll hopefully become operators or something like that.”
“Right,” I said. “This is their final selection. We have a training facility in Ecuador for that.”
“Gotcha. I love South America,” she mused. “Colombia, Ecuador, Argentina… Don’t get me started on Chile.”
She wasn’t reacting like she was supposed to. What was wrong with her?
“Anyway, this actually works out well,” she continued. “As much as I will miss you, I know my dad’s gonna want me around for a bit before I try to put my life back together.” She tilted her head back and peered up at me again. “Bring me back a snack if you can?”
I furrowed my brow. “Do you hear what I’m saying here, Kiera?”
“Yes. Your work takes up a lot of time. You forget I grew up with a dad who was gone a lot—whose training missions are some of the riskiest out there.” She paused.
“More than that, I grew up with a mom who showed me what it was like to wait for a man who wasn’t around all the time.
” She got settled once more and looked out over the mountains.
“I lived through the soul-crushing moments of worry and loneliness, and I lived through the adrenaline rushes and sheer joy of the homecomings.”
She knew.
Some tension left my shoulders, and I rested my chin on the top of her head.
She knows. She has a better understanding of that kind of life than anyone I’ve dated in the past.
I needed to get that through my skull.
“At least you won’t be gone for months and months,” she murmured.
“I’m really not worried, James. I have my own life too.
I have to find a new job, a new place to live, I have Dad, I have friends…
I know who to call if I need to ramble and fret when my boyfriend can’t stay in touch because he’s out risking his life somewhere. ”
I smiled, unable to help it, and kissed her hair.
Closing in on my fifties, and I was suddenly a boyfriend.
Christ.
“I’m not totally on board with the term boyfriend,” I muttered. “I’m not twenty-four.”
She laughed quietly, her shoulders trembling. “Manfriend?”
I grimaced.
We’d find something better.
My stowaway became a stowaway again when we touched down on the outskirts of Jalalabad at oh-three hundred that night. I told her to hide on the floor between the seats, just in case, while I waited for Kelley, Wilde, and Stevens to appear.
The area was close to abandoned. It’d once been a small suburb with young families who wanted to be close to the big city but not live right in it.
Now it was war-torn and financially collapsed.
The stores had closed, communications had stopped, the infrastructure was crumbling, and most of the population had fled.
I checked my watch.
They had two minutes.
A dead town didn’t mean it had no eyes on it, and a helicopter stuck out like a sore thumb. This old warehouse lot only sheltered us while we were on the ground, and only for a moment.
The sooner we got to Peshawar, the faster I could bring Kiera home.
But at least she’d be safe as soon as we crossed into Pakistan.
From there, we’d be on military transport to Turkey and later Germany.
Then, commercial to Dulles. I didn’t want her to have to flash her passport in this region—or worry about security.
The faint sound of boots scraping against pavement made me turn left, and I squinted in the darkness. There. Finally. As promised, I knocked twice on the fuselage so that Kiera knew she could return to her seat.
I took in the operators’ appearances and deduced they’d had a trying op. And they probably wanted a fucking shower. Their clothes were covered in desert dust, and Kelley’s backpack was hanging by only one strap. Wilde looked like she was ready to crash.
Stevens and I shook hands and exchanged a brief nod. He was the senior operator among the three, with the other two recent graduates.
“Everything good?” I asked.
“Aye. Ready to get home.”
I opened the door so they could get in. “We have an extra passenger—an aid worker. I’m bringing her back to the US.”
“Copy that.”
That was that.