Taking Cover (Wingmen Warriors #2)

Taking Cover (Wingmen Warriors #2) Page 22

Definitely a hefty dose of Christmas cheer charging through the chapel.

Whistling "Jingle Bells," Tanner left the church in search of Kathleen. The mission porch was empty, along with the yard stretching to the fence. Tanner bounded down the steps, scanning the barren horizon beyond. A full-blown tequila sunrise of reds and oranges blazed across the desert, but no sign of Kathleen.

She wouldn't have ventured into the mine, would she? Nothing there but a bunch of rusty tin cans and rope.

Footsteps sounded behind him. From above. On the roof. Instinct told him he wouldn't like what he found when he turned.

A thud sounded behind him. Silence. Then another. He looked anyway, pivoting just in time to see Kathleen.

In midair.

A rope clutched in her hands, she rappeled from the mission roof. Her tennis shoes thudded against the stucco walls before she pushed off again, silhouetted by the burst of sunrise fire licking the sky.

Tanner's heart stopped for the second time in twenty-four hours. Except this time, her life wasn't in danger because of some accident or threat.

She'd risked her own fool neck out of recklessness.

One misstep, one lingering dizzy spell from her concussion and she would catapult to the ground. He didn't dare shout for fear of startling her, but when she landed, she wouldn't be so damned lucky.

Kathleen pushed off the side of the building, launching herself into the clear morning sky. Pilots had it all wrong. Who needed a plane? Flying solo offered the greatest rush, rappeling, parachuting, just the air and nothing else.

And she desperately needed that escape today.

Tanner was getting too close. He had her number, and that scared her. The tree, the name, those strong arms holding her through the night. She could too easily lose herself in him.

Her feet thudded against the stucco wall before she shoved herself back into the air. Rope glided through her grip. She needed to do something to work off the frustrated energy. Sex would have been a more satisfying way, but he'd been right to stop them.

She would work off her nervous energy out here. Alone. Rappelling was a lot less dangerous than relationships anyway. The risks were calculated and all her own, affecting no one but herself.

Watching him sleep had been far too enticing. Studying that square jaw softened by sleep, shadowed with stubble a shade darker than his hair. Tracing the outline of his full bottom lip, his brows, his nose.

Slipping free from his arms hadn't been easy. His hold was firm and her resolve was weak.

She was going to cave. Soon. And that whirled a mix of excitement and all-out fear inside her.

If a night spent sleeping in his arms scared her this much, what would a night spent awake in his arms do to her? Worse yet, what would happen to her afterward when one of them walked? Given their histories, she knew without question eventually there would be a foot race for the door.

Her feet pounded the side of the church with more force and less grace than before. She flexed and shoved for the last leap before she had to face Tanner—and herself.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Tanner's shout sent her sprawling on her butt. Stunned, she stared up at the harsh lines of his face tight with unadulterated anger.

She forced a smile and extended her hand for him to help her up. "And who the hell are you to talk to me that way?"

He pulled her to her feet, his gentleness definitely at odds with the ice flecking his blue eyes. "I'm supposed to be your partner. So? What made you do something so crazy?"

"Crazy?"

"Reckless."

She yanked her hand free. "I was scouting for the best way out of here. Good thing I did, too. There's a house not more than an hour's walk due east on another side road."

He jabbed a finger toward the horizon. "That house would have been there a half hour later if you'd taken the time to wake me up. Did it ever cross your lone-ranger brain to take me along?"

"No." Of course it hadn't because she'd been running from him, couldn't stop herself from running now. "In case you haven't noticed, hotshot, I'm not one of your girlfriends needing you to take care of me."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, come on. You've got to realize every woman you want needs helping, saving, protecting. Like with what's-her-name. Mindi. You took a whole weekend installing new locks on her doors to protect her from some stalker ex-boyfriend."

"That makes me a bad guy?"

"Why not call a locksmith? And it's not just Mindi. It's all of them. Haven't you noticed the protector-syndrome pattern? You don't have to coddle, cosset or save me. I can take care of myself." Even as she rolled through her arguments, she wanted him to step in and disagree. Prove her wrong. "Kind of interesting the past two times we kissed were tied into times you thought I was in danger or hurt."

His eyes blanked, no signs of either the angry or playful Tanner in sight. "I didn't realize your degree included psychology, Doc."

Part of her wanted to recall her words. Except they were true. "What was I supposed to do? Wake you up so you could haul your injured back up there, instead? I don't think so."

"I could have spotted you if you got dizzy."

"I don't get dizzy."

"You're arguing just for the sake of arguing."

"And you're being an ass."

He leaned in until they were nose-to-nose. "You scared the crap out of me, okay? I saw you kick off that roof, thought about your head injury, and I just…"

Tipping his head to the sun, he offered an unrestrained view of the muscles working along his jaw. Her anger deflated. Exhaustion rippled over her in a surprising wave. She was too tired to fight anymore. Too tired of the fight altogether.

She wanted to touch him, but she didn't always want what was best for her, so she kept her hands twisted in front of her. "That's kind of sweet."

"I'm not sweet." A half smile negated his grumble.

"Okay."

"At least try to sound convincing."

"Sure, hotshot." She nudged his foot with hers. "You're not just an ass. You're a bad-ass."

"Damn straight." He gave her a brusque nod, looked down at his shoes, then up at the sky again. His chest rose and fell with a shirt-stretching sigh. "Just take it easy on my heart, okay?"

Shock rooted her feet to the desert sand. "What?"

Tanner lowered his gaze to lock with hers. "Try not to make it stop again with another stunt before I can get you to an E.R."

"Oh, yeah, right. I'll try to restrain myself from arm wrestling any coyotes on the way back to base."

"My heart would appreciate that."

Eyes drawn to his, held by his, she wished that house could be another ten miles away so this once-in-a-lifetime Christmas didn't have to end yet. Tanner's simple naming ceremony had been the perfect gift, offering something she'd never expected to find. His choice of names indicated he understood and accepted her in a way her family and Andrew never had. "I guess we should head out."

She didn't move. Neither did he.

"I'm going to miss your mouth, O'Connell."

"Miss me?" She blinked to clear her thoughts. Warmth spread a scary excitement within her at the compliment. "When?"

Tanner winced. "Never mind. I didn't mean to say that yet. We can discuss it later once we've had a big lunch and a shower."

"No. How about tell me now." She crossed her arms and planted her feet. "When are you going to miss me?"

His shoulders lowered with a resigned exhale. "When you stay in Charleston after Cutter's wedding."

"And why would I stay in South Carolina?"

"Because of your head."

"My head's going to be just fine. You're not going to get rid of my mouth that easily, Bennett."

Wait. Back up. She did not need to lead this conversation into discussions about their mouths. Her lips tingled with memories of kissing him, long, deep' hard, not nearly long enough. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me, partner. I'm not checking out because of some silly bump on the head."

"How about because of all these accidents that don't make sense? Missing evidence, now a double dose of flat tires. It's time for you to pack it in and take care of that concussion before something worse happens."

"This is one of your jokes, right?"

Only the wind answered as Tanner stood his ground, stone silent—a stubborn, immovable rock.

Then his words filtered through. What if the accident hadn't been a fluke? Why hadn't she considered that herself? This opened a whole new path for the investigation. Her mind sped through possibilities she couldn't wait to explore once they arrived back at base.

Except, he didn't intend for her to stay.

"You're serious? You really think I'm going to pull myself off the investigation team because someone may or may not be tampering with evidence? Maybe somebody wanted to spook us a little? The way I see it, that's all the more reason for me to press. I'm onto something."

"That's my whole point." Tanner advanced a step, jabbing the air with a finger. "You shouldn't be on to anything. We should be. We. The team. If you won't be a team player, then you're a liability to everyone else."

His words hurt more than any concussion. Apparently the name and the invitation to be his friend hadn't been genuine. He'd been trying to get her back to Charleston, with the side benefit of working his way into her bed.

And he'd almost succeeded, damn his too charming face. She wanted to bash him over the head with her Athena stick.

Anger whipped inside her to blunt the pain of betrayal. "You're one to talk about being a team player. You only want to play if you can be the captain. In charge. In control. Even sitting in the copilot seat, you've got to run the mission—forget that it's not your job. You're the one fixing things, like in your relationships. And on this whole investigation, you don't want to work with me any more than Andrew ever did. You want me to do it your way, on your schedule, by your rules. Well, I've got news for you, hotshot. You can't always run the show and still be a team player. Sometimes somebody else is in control."

Panting in the aftermath, she realized all she'd said. Some of it true, but some horribly harsh and unfair. Just as she started to backpedal, Tanner quirked a blond eyebrow.

"Are you through?"

Ice-flecked blue eyes stared back at her and Kathleen realized he was royally pissed. Not just miffed, or a little angry. Easygoing Tanner Bennett was full-out mad. At her.

She thought about apologizing, but the cold look in his eyes froze the words in her mouth. She settled for a quick nod.

"Good. Because so am I. I'm through trying to work with a woman who takes damn fool chances. I'm through trying to talk sense to you when you flat-out won't listen. And I'm sure as hell through fighting with you today because, unlike you, I happen to care about your health." He tapped his watch meaningfully. "I'm hauling butt out of here, O'Connell, and now that you know, consider me through talking today."

Kathleen blinked, more than once. She didn't deserve to shed the tears that burned her eyes. She'd taken a stupid risk and acted like a child, to boot. How could she blame him for not wanting to talk to her?

Unwilling to leave her present behind, she shook off the attack of self-pity and hustled back inside the mission before Tanner left without her.

She had a feeling this Christmas was going to be more than just a "Silent Night" kind of holiday. Tanner's cold shoulder threatened to extend into a full-blown silent day, night and freaking New Year.

And worse yet, she deserved it.

Chapter 13

Kathleen speared her fingers through her damp hair. A shower did wonders for restoring a person's spirits, especially when she had twenty-four hours' worth of sand, blood and pent-up emotions to wash away. A waterproof bandage over her stitches had enabled her to indulge in that much needed cleansing.