[When SEALs Come Home 04] - Heated (22 page)

“Did Tegan send you out here to arrest me?” He said the words lightly.

“No.” She shook her head. “I told Tegan where you were last night. He won’t be arresting you.”

Joey exhaled roughly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Oh, but she did. “It was the right thing to do.”

He nodded. “And you always do the right thing.”

“So do you. Except when it comes to the speed limit.”

He stared at her, and for the first time, she saw the anger in his eyes. Joey was pissed off.  “You believed Tegan. You believed I could do that.”

“Only for a minute. Not really.”

“You should have.” He looked bleak. “Because I’ve done that before.”

“Run someone over?” she asked, confused.

“A little kid,” he answered and strode away from her, toward the bike he’d parked next to Rio’s truck.

“Don’t walk away from me.”

He turned around and slammed a hand against the bike’s seat. “I could have done it. I’ve done it before.

“Our SEAL unit was headed down the highway, riding the tanks with the Army boys. They had their fingers on the trigger of an M113, and we had our own guns. Plenty of sand but no signs of trouble. It was one of those days we crawled along, making almost no time at all, and it looked like it was going to be a good day.”

She could hear the
but
coming. She remembered the way he looked, tearing up the highway, eyes on the horizon and heavy on the gas.

“Before we hit the city limits, though, we spotted a car pulled over by the side of the road. There were a couple of women clustered around it, poking around under the hood. Plenty of women drove in Iraq. It wasn’t that unusual, although the locals said they’d dialed it back because of the roadblocks and the convoys, not to mention insurgents eager as shit to blow stuff up. So even though I didn’t see a guy with them, it didn’t have to mean anything. Sucked to not be able to pull over and lend them a hand, but God knows they’d want us to keep on moving anyhow.”

“No stopping?” She laced her fingers through his. His fingers tightened on hers, leaving little crescents in the leather.

“Never. The insurgents liked to play buried treasure with us, and there was plenty of sand to hide their IEDs under. Once the convoy started moving, we didn’t stop until we reached our target. Usually, that wasn’t a problem. But that fucking day, they really did have car problems, and they weren’t watching the kids like they should have been because it was the desert and you could see a car coming from miles away. Except the kid didn’t see us or figured he could beat us to the point in the road where his ball was, and he was wrong. We didn’t stop. We kept right on moving.”

“That’s why you ride so fast?”

He shrugged, but he didn’t pull away from her touch. “Some things you can’t outrun.”

She knew that.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

And... she knew that look too. He’d been the one who survived, the one who walked away and who had to live with the choices he’d made. He’d done what he’d been trained to do, but now he had to live with the cost of that choice.

“If I’d been out there last night, if I’d hit that guy, I wouldn’t have ridden away,” he said. “Not this time. Not ever again.”

“I know,” she said, and that was the reason she was out here, wasn’t it? She had regrets of her own, things she’d do differently given another a chance.

S
he held out a hand. “Give me your keys.”

“I’m not drunk,” he growled at her. It was kind of cute. He was having a pissy day, and she’d let him down, and yet he was still biting his tongue, holding back. “That’s the only time you get to make that demand.”

They both knew he’d never get on his bike after knocking back a few beers. The only person he hurt when he rode hard was himself. 

She made a
give it up
motion with her fingers. “Let’s go for a ride.”

“You have a perfectly good vehicle right there.” He jerked a thumb toward the patrol car. “You even have flashy lights. Drive that.”

Definitely pissy. “I want to drive the bike.”

He wore his usual battered T-shirt and faded blue jeans paired with take-no-prisoners steel-toes. They were evenly matched there because she was in uniform and had boots of her own. He also looked scruffy and rough and so very familiar. She
knew
him.

“Keys,” she repeated.

With a sigh, he dropped his keys into her outstretched palm. “Tegan’s not going to like this.”

“Ask me if I care.”

Joey only had one helmet, but that was okay. She could improvise. Popping open the door to Rio’s truck, she snagged his helmet from the front seat. She didn’t think he’d mind.

“Wow. You’re living dangerously today.” Six feet of grouchy, touchy male slouched along beside her. But he hadn’t ridden off without her. That counted for something.

“You didn’t ask me,” she pointed out. She threw her leg over the seat and patted the six inches of empty leather behind her. “This spot has your name on it.”

“This morning, Tegan mattered. Yesterday Tegan mattered. So what’s different about today? Budge up.” He patted her butt. He couldn’t be that mad, right?

She shifted forward and he swung onto the seat behind her. His legs surrounded hers, his arms wrapping around her waist.

“Helmet.” She popped on her stolen headgear, and Joey reached past her and grabbed his helmet from the handlebar.

“Chicken,” he groused, but he wrapped his arms around her waist, tucking his hands over her stomach. “Where are we going?”

“Do you have a destination when you go riding at midnight?” She’d always figured he just drove aimlessly until he ran out of gas or road.

He shrugged. “It depends, but I’m not the one driving.”

She was. She started the bike and hit the road. The way Joey shifted with her when she took the first turn, it felt like they’d been riding together for years. The wind whipping in their ears made conversation almost impossible. Ponderosa pine and mountainside flashed by. Her heart ached so badly. She’d let him down. She’d demanded he play by her rules, and he had. He hadn’t told Tegan where she’d spent the night, even when Tegan was gunning to arrest him. And then when he’d told her about Iraq... she ached more. The familiar warmth of his body wrapped around hers helped some, but she had talking to do and she couldn’t do it here.

All too soon, they’d reached Strong. She hadn’t lived here all that long, but it was already home. She drove the bike down the single main street, easing off on the speed. The gallery flashed past, followed by Ma’s Bar, until they were smack in the center of town.

“You were already going the speed limit.” His mouth by her ear caused goose bumps in other, more southern parts. “It’s more fun to go fast.”

He wasn’t wrong. “It’s a busy street. There are
people
.”

His answer was a rumble of laughter. “It’s
Strong
. I count three people.”

She stopped the bike in the middle of the street. This was Strong, it was a small town, and one person was all it took. He braced his booted legs against the pavement, keeping the bike upright as effortlessly as he did everything else except forgive himself.

“I want everyone to know that we’re together.” She could do this. 

“Are we?” He eased her back against him, which was a good sign. She pulled off the helmet. She wasn’t having this conversation through a visor and fiberglass.

“You asked me to marry you last night. You can’t take it back.”

“Maybe it was a limited-time offer.” He pulled off his own helmet and looked down at her. His eyes were dark and wary, with none of the laughter she’d come to associate with him.

“Or maybe it’s my turn to ask.” She tried to lean up and kiss him, but damn it, his motorcycle wasn’t built for romantic proposals.

A smile spread across his face. “I could give you a hand with that.”

“Please.” Then she muffled an undignified squeak as he somehow managed to scoop her up and turn her around to face him. He slid forward, stealing her seat and dropping her onto his lap in one smooth move.

“You stole my spot.” Not that she was
really
complaining, since her new seat put his hard thighs square beneath her butt.

“It’s my bike.” He leaned in and nipped her lower lip. “And you stole my heart, Mercy Hernandez.”

Oh. Good. She wrapped her legs around his waist. The position wasn’t dignified, but she reminded herself that she was making a spectacle of herself—and blocking the intersection—for a reason. Somehow she needed to convince Joey that he counted. That
he
came first.

“Then we’re even,” she said breathlessly.

“I have something of yours?” He nudged her chin up with his thumb.

She took a deep breath. Three words, three syllables. It didn’t have to be anything fancy. “I love you.”

He leaned in. “You should know that Mrs. Donovan is watching us through the window. She’s real good at reading lips, so all of Strong is going to know you just declared you had feelings for me.”

“Good. I want the whole world to know.” She ran her hands up his arms and linked them behind his neck.

“Okay. Just checking.” He reached for her waist and then pulled back. “Jesus. We need to do this when you’re not wearing a gun.”

“Chicken.” She smiled against his mouth.

“Not too chicken to say this: I love you, Mercedes Hernandez.”

Her mouth brushed his.
Perfect. He was her perfect guy.
For a long moment, he didn’t move, and she wondered if she’d misread him or lost her chance, but then he grinned.

“Subtle,” he muttered, and really, she had no idea what he was talking about. Instead, she deepened their kiss, licking the corner of his mouth and demanding he let her in. And with a husky groan, he did. Heat rushed through her, so she kissed him harder, tugging his head down to hers and keeping him right where she wanted him.

Pressed up against her.

When the truck honked behind them, her eyes flew open and she almost fell off the bike. Joey grunted as she dug her heels into his back, trying to keep her balance. He grabbed her butt with both hands and shifted her higher.

“I’ve got you.”

“Promises.” She considered going in for another kiss, but just then Rio stuck his head out of the driver’s side window.

“I take it we’ve moved on to the
kiss and make up
portion of the day’s agenda?”

Joey flashed him the bird, and Rio grinned.

“You might want to move out of the middle of the street. Sheriff Tegan’s about a half mile behind me, and he’s not in a good mood. Also Faye’s taking pictures, so you may want to consider your relationship official.”

Joey glided them over to the side of the street so they weren’t blocking traffic anymore.

“I can kill him later,” he offered.

“I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

“I want to tell you
I love you
every day for the rest of our lives, not through Plexiglas during visiting hours at the state penitentiary.”

“Good point.” He kissed her again. “Because I plan on spending all my time with you, and if I slow down some on the highway, that means you’re stuck with me for a good fifty years or more. If, that is, you’re asking me to marry you.”

She smiled at him, and if his face swam just a little because she had a tear in her eye, that was okay. They’d hold on to each other together. Reaching up, she cupped his face with both hands.

“Will you marry me, Joey Carter? You’re one hell of a man and I’m not giving you back. You’re all mine, and I’d like to make that official.”

Somewhere someone whooped loudly.

“You bet.” He lowered his head to hers. “I’m not a good deal. I curse too much, drive too fast, and you could definitely do better than me. And since you’re doing the asking, you’re going to have to buy me one hell of a big ring.”

“Sounds like the perfect deal to me,” she whispered and then she kissed the hell out of him.

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