Funny how one word could change everything. Her name was Sunny Foster. Apparently the pimply faced airman had better luck getting her to talk than he had.
Of course now that the authorities were involved, her secretiveness would have to come to an end. A good thing. Except he could only think of the flash of terror in her eyes he’d seen, once she was inside the helicopter. Only a quick moment of vulnerability, but he hadn’t doubted what he saw. He didn’t know why, but he knew he couldn’t leave her alone and defenseless.
The urge to protect powered his feet double time across the tiled floor.
***
As Sunny waited in the small conference room, walls lined with framed lithographs of military aircraft throughout the years, the full impact of her situation washed over her.
She was at least six hundred miles from home. She had no clothes. No money. No way to contact her family, other than the Internet. And she couldn’t leave without Chewie, who was currently being looked over by the base vet who took care of military dogs.
Even her clothes were borrowed, jeans and a sweater loaned to her by a female clerk in the squadron who was close to the same size. The jeans fit, although the sweater was snugger than she was accustomed to. Homesickness enveloped her like the track suits she wore to work. She missed her home, her job, her routine. Most of all she missed her family.
They must be freaking-out worried by now, especially Misty. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
Sunny tugged the lip balm from her pocket—yet another thing she’d had to accept for free—and slicked it across her cracked, dry lips. God, it sucked to be so at the mercy of others. She was an independent businesswoman in her community. None of which apparently meant a thing outside her boundaries. Now she had to figure out how to get back, a logistical conundrum.
It wasn’t as if she could say, “Hey, could I hitch a helicopter ride back home?”
Round and round she turned her Styrofoam cup of coffee on the table in front of her. A dozen black office chairs—the kind that spun—were placed around the table, all empty except for the one she sat in. Waiting.
A computer sat on a lectern and a telecon screen hung from the ceiling, but they weren’t any good to her with their blank screens, certain to have security codes.
The door clicked, giving a second’s warning someone was about to enter. Spinning her chair toward the entrance, she held her breath, not sure what to expect from this evening. She’d asked to see Wade…
And there he was, filling the doorway with his familiar broad shoulders and indomitable will. But Wade also looked different, more unreachable. It had to be the uniform, because his eyes were the same.
He wore camouflage pants tucked into combat boots, a maroon beret tucked in his thigh pocket. His hair was shorter than she’d realized before, but then he’d worn his hood most of the time. And he was clean shaven now. He’d been magnetic, virile, commanding during their survival trek, but now she saw—holy crap—he was poster boy handsome.
A lean face with strong cheekbones, perfectly sculpted like some hard-as-stone statue. Yet his perfection was offset with just the right masculine rough edges, his windburned skin, even his callused hands, gave him the appeal of a man who could protect, survive.
Win.
Her eyes settled on his mouth, chapped like hers, yet somehow that hadn’t hampered him in the least when he’d kissed her on the mountain. The time seemed so surreal now, a world away.
The air went heavy and awkward. She hated feeling out of her element. She searched his face for signs that he might be downplaying his injury, the memory of all that blood still too fresh in her mind. Dark circles marked under his eyes, but other than that he seemed steady, focused. On her.
She gripped the arms of her chair. “How’s your shoulder?”
“Sore, but livable.” He wheeled out a chair and sat beside her. “I won’t be jumping out of planes for a while, but I should be back to work in the field in a week or so.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” Her fingers itched to touch him, just his knee, so close to hers. “I wouldn’t want you to suffer because of me.”
“I’m just glad that deputy is a crappy shot.” A smile crinkled the corners of his intense brown eyes.
“The day could have ended so much worse.” She tugged at the hem of her sweater, swamped with memories of what it had been like in the cold and snow with Wade lying on top of her. Praying they would make it out of there alive.
She shook off the wave of intense feelings, focusing on more practical concerns. “About tomorrow… I need some help in figuring out how I’m going to get back home.”
“Major McCabe is looking into that now. It may take a few days to find a mission already slated to go to that region, but once we do, we can put you on the aircraft. You’ll just need someone to pick you up. Or you can arrange for private transportation faster. Your call.”
Leave tomorrow or wait around for days? Days when her sister could be planning to leave. “I think I need to look into those speedier arrangements. And what about that deputy who shot at us?”
“Authorities here have notified the sheriff there, his boss. They’re already sending a scouting party for him and the bodies. They’ll want to take your statement over the phone today before you leave.”
“Of course. Whenever they’re ready.” She struggled to push aside years of suspicions hammered into her head, the mantra repeated by her parents to be careful who she trusted. There were people out there who would shut down their community if they could, would take away their home and shuffle them back to a more congested area where it was “easier” to track their activities. But what other option did she have if she wanted justice for Madison and Ted than to talk now?
“Afterward, I can help you make arrangements to fly home.” Wade continued, “I could drive you to an airport.”