Free Fall (Elite Force #4)(19)
Author: Catherine Mann

So he let her keep talking; no hardship. He could just sit and take in the sight of her, so sexy with her hair mussed from sleep. After a month away from her, he soaked up the sound of her.

He was a sap.

Sutton held up the shield, grinning. “So I shouldn’t piss off these two badasses. What else should I know about your boyfriend?”

“Former boyfriend,” she said quickly, too quickly. “He and his buds rescue downed pilots in war zones—even jump into the ocean to assist during astronauts’ landings. But their work isn’t restricted to military settings; they help SWAT teams, the FBI.”

Sutton whistled. “Hairy stuff.”

As much as he preferred not to talk about his work, Jose reminded himself this kept the focus off Stella’s job.

He clapped the kid on the shoulder. “If you call jumping into a minefield hairy, then sure, it’s hairy stuff. Another of my buddies, Franco, was dropped onto a mountain in Afghanistan to rescue a Green Beret with his legs blown off in a minefield. We couldn’t risk the rotor wash of a landing helicopter setting off another mine that would take out the whole aircraft and everyone in it. So Franco parachuted in alone. He used his medic training to secure the patient, then the helicopter hoisted them both up.”

“Hey,” Stella said, “that’s the same buddy of yours who rescued the lawyer and her nephew from earthquake rubble last year. Right, Jose? You do civilian rescue work too.”

“They were buried underneath layers of concrete slabs.” Jose kept on talking, since sure enough, the kid wasn’t focusing on Stella anymore and that was good for a lot of reasons. “Franco not only crawled through with stabilizing medical help, but also stayed with them through aftershocks until rescue teams could free them.”

Sutton leaned back against the tree trunk. “That’s one helluva bedtime story.”

Although, the sun was rising, which meant they would either be leaving or evading. “You only have about a half hour left to catch some shut-eye.”

“Then I’d better make the most of it.” Sutton’s eyes slid closed.

And as the student began snoring lightly, Jose realized he had no buffer between him and Stella. Nothing left but the two of them and a boatload of messy history.

***

In spite of all her intention to button up her heart tight, Stella couldn’t bring herself to sleep away these last minutes with Jose, not with the dream of their first date still curling through her mind and into her heart. The sun was rising and the chopper would certainly be arriving soon. They would go their separate ways again.

So even as exhaustion tugged on her every cell, she forced her eyes to stay open. She tugged the ponytail holder free and began braiding her hair loosely.

Jose’s eyes glowed coal hot in the night. “Are you seeing him?”

Surprise jolted her. “Sutton? Really? God, no. He’s just a kid.”

“Twenty-two, according to the briefing info we got on the hostages before rolling out. He’s not that much younger than either of us. Hell, I’m a couple of years younger than you and that never seemed to matter to either of us.”

She saw jealousy—and hurt. The first would have made her defensive, but the latter made her lean forward and stroke his jaw lightly.

“Well, I am not seeing him. Why would you think that?”

She was still so raw from their relationship, she didn’t know when—if—she could think about commitment again. And how scary was that? She was nowhere closer to finding out anything about her mother and she’d screwed up any possibility of a relationship with Jose. She wanted a family of her own, but she couldn’t think of being with anyone else.

But what about Jose? Had he already moved on? Was that why he thought she could?

She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Are you seeing someone new?”

“I make it a point not to be dumped more than once every six months. Since you broke it off with me four weeks ago, I have five months left to be careful and stay completely single. No risks to the heart.”

Her fingers still carried the feel of his unshaven jaw. “Risks to the heart?” How the hell could he place this all at her doorstep? Anger welled inside her. “If we’re laying it out there, don’t forget I wanted more with you.”

“Just so we’re clear here.” He tugged the end of her braid. “I asked you to move in with me.”

The connection of his hand on her hair shimmered clear to her roots and pissed her off. “Yeah, well, call me old-fashioned but I was hoping we could have it all—house, family, rocking chair retirement with grandchildren—and you also made it clear that was never going to happen.”

So much for keeping her distance.

He gave her braid a final tug. “Keep right on fighting. You can let down soon.”

The way he knew just how to bolster her, how to read her, brought a lump to her throat. Spending time with him now was bittersweet, knowing how it would end.

“Stella…” He pulled his 9 mm from the holster. “For you.”

He had his machine gun, so it made sense. Still, she appreciated having control of her safety again after the helplessness of the past three days.

“Damn you,” she whispered, cradling the handgun in her hands.

“What did I do now?”

“You understand me,” she admitted, her anger peeling away, leaving nothing but the hurt behind. “I almost hate you for that. Be horrible, okay? Be a total jerk. Make this easier for both of us.”

He cupped the back of her head, his fingers massaging into her scalp. Tempting her all over again. If she could just give up her dreams, she could have him…

Then she would resent him, truly hate him in the end.

A low hum started in her brain, a buzz of frustration or doubt? Either way, it grew louder and louder until…

Jose went tense. His hand fell away and he launched to his feet. “The helicopter’s here.”

***

The CIA agent pulled out his buzzing cell phone, but he didn’t recognize the number scrolling across the screen. Not unusual, since they used disposable names and identities on a regular basis.

He held up a hand to his two fellow operatives for them to carry on with their brief about the aircraft picking up the rest of the team. He would be right back. Sidling out of the small conference room, he ducked into a deserted computer cubicle in the hangar-based mobile command center and thumbed the on button.

“Yes?”

“Hello, Henry Pope.” The tinny sounding words carried over the phone, unrecognizable with a voice changer distorting the sound.