Crossing The Line (KTS Book 2) Read online

  Tiny sheep playing guitars. A matching bright blue tank top with—kill me now—no bra.

  I wanted to go back to bed, to curl up next to her.

  It had been ten days since the accident, and that meant my mental timer of how long I’d promised myself I wouldn’t touch her had run out. Yes, I’d failed on the touching part, but also, since I’d really meant touching her with my penis—that throbbing fucker had been angrily cooped up for the entire time in her presence over said ten days—I’d consider it a partial success.

  I hadn’t fucked her.

  She was on light duty, ten days recovered, so could we . . . lightly fuck?

  Stifling a groan, I softly tiptoed out of my room and headed into the hall. I would be off base all day on a reconnaissance mission with my team. Hannah had issued a call time of 7:30. Which meant she’d really issued a time of 7:15.

  So, technically, I was already late.

  Not that I begrudged myself the extra few minutes with Olive. It was almost frightening how fucking perfect it felt to hold her in my arms, to be able to talk and lie with her, and now that her team was based out of the Georgia compound during her, Ava’s, and Dan’s recoveries, I would have that opportunity for a while.

  The next step—planning for what would come when she returned to England, since my team’s current mission was based in the States—was a concern in the back of my mind for a bit, rather than something I worried about every second of every day.

  Plot and plan.

  Figure out all possibilities.

  Then worry.

  Or hopefully, not worry because everything between us would sort itself out.

  “You going to stand there all day staring dopily at the wall?” Hannah asked, pushing open the door next to the expanse of said wall outside the staging room that I had been staring at quite dopily. “Or are you going to come through, so we can get our asses in gear?”

  I scowled. “The second one.”

  “Does this dopey state have anything to do with one sexy doctor?” Lily asked.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “It does. Ha!” She put her hand out to Jesse, the final member of our team. A broad-shouldered redhead with a killer hand at explosives, she was the absolute shit, and we were lucky to have her. “Pay up,” Lily said. “You owe me twenty.”

  “Lily,” I warned.

  “Hey, don’t look at me. Jesse here”—a twenty was smacked into her palm by an irritated-looking Jesse—“she’s the one who bet against you. I, for one, would never bet against the good doctor with the dreamy eyes and the body like”—a chef’s kiss—“a fine wine with a plate of steaming rigatoni Bolognese.”

  Lily, outside of the operating room and in the field (where she was kickass at both), was best taken in small doses.

  Especially, when she had a bee in her bonnet. Like, apparently, today.

  “Enough,” Hannah said. “It doesn’t matter what Linc does with his personal time.” Her lips tipped up at the edges, and I knew I wouldn’t be spared her quiet brand of teasing. “Even if that personal time does involve the sexy doctor we prefer.”

  “I feel like I should be offended,” I muttered, strapping a knife to my thigh.

  Hannah tightened her ponytail before starting to check her equipment. “Oh, don’t get offended. It’s only because Lily and I would totally do her—that is, if she was into women in the least. It has nothing to do with you and your yummy abs.”

  I scowled again.

  “The worst part,” Lily grumbled, “is that I asked her out once.”

  “What?” I whirled to face her, eyes narrowing.

  Lily fluttered hers back in my direction. “Oh, stop with the caveman-she’s-mine-bullshit,” she said. “It was way before this thing you two have—which, by the way, is a thing with enough sparking chemistry to light a fucking room on fire, and also something that means no one else in their right mind at KTS would dare to make a show of interest.” A beat. “For either of you—”

  I frowned, glanced to Hannah, who nodded in agreement, and felt relief slide through me.

  Probably, that made me an asshole.

  But I was an asshole who didn’t care, because I’d just squeaked out a second chance with Olive, and I didn’t want anything to get in the way of it.

  “What happened when you asked her out?” Jesse probed as she shouldered her pack.

  Lily buckled the front of hers. “Well, I asked her on a date not long after she’d been recruited, and let’s just say, she turned me down, albeit very gently and nicely, but in a way that made it clear she was strictly heterosexual.”

  That made a bolt of guilt stab straight into my heart.

  Because I hadn’t turned her down nicely. Or gently. And yup, fuck, I was an asshole.

  An asshole trying to make up for what I’d done, but an asshole, nonetheless.

  “That sounds like her,” Hannah agreed. “She’s really nice.”

  “Yup.” Jack clapped me on the back. “And too nice for the likes of you, that’s for damned sure.”

  Jesse laughed as she headed for the door. “She sure is. You’d better play your cards right, so she doesn’t figure out that she’s way out of your league.”

  “Hilarious,” I muttered, shrugging into my own pack. “Gotta love teammates that have your back.”

  “Oh,” Lily said. “We have your back.” A shrug. “It just doesn’t mean I have to kiss your ass.”

  “Again. More hilarity.”

  Lily chuckled as she followed Jesse out the door, Jack following suit in his much more typically quiet manner. That quiet meant he was a major asset for the gossiping old nags on base. He had the ability to be so still, to melt into the shadows so effectively that people forgot he was there.

  And then they spilled their guts.

  And then those guts were painted all over this base . . . and the ones abroad.

  Not the prettiest imagery, but then again, I was a doctor.

  “Chin up, Linc,” Hannah said, plunking my hat onto my head. “It’s not so bad.”

  “For you.” More muttering as I straightened the hat she set there, tugging it out of my eyes. Pretty soon I was going to be turning into a teenager. Good times.

  “Meh,” she said. “You’ll survive.” She bumped her shoulder to mine. “Plus, I like Olive for you. She’s wonderful and will treat you right, and she won’t take any shit.” A beat as she studied my face, expression going uncharacteristically serious. “But more importantly, you deserve someone to treat you right.”

  That much was true.

  The shit-taking part, anyway. The rest of it . . . well, there was a reason my ex had cheated, and it wasn’t just because I was always traveling for work.

  “Linc.”

  I glanced up.

  “You’re good for her, too, you know?”

  I nodded, even though deep down, I couldn’t deny that the notion gave me some pause. Was I really?

  Not that I had time to ruminate on that lovely thought.

  I needed to get my head in the game, get ready for the mission we were about to head out on. I needed to plan and plot and focus . . . because I didn’t want to end up dead.

  I wanted to end the night back in Olive’s arms.

  Especially since it was day ten.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t end up back in Olive’s arms.

  I didn’t get to celebrate day ten.

  Instead, I first sweated my ass off during the hot-as-hell fall Georgian day, and then froze my ass off during the chilly fall Georgian night, spending hours watching a shitty house on the edge of town.

  The target we had been tracking hadn’t shown at the time our informant had specified, and we had been in the process of leaving some surveillance equipment in order to catch a glimpse of him before heading back to the base when the fucker had appeared.

  Then had stayed.

  And had been a markedly stupid criminal.

  Turned out, the dumbass had stolen nearly a million dollars’
worth of opioids and had been pursued by the dealer he’d taken the load from. Which meant that we stumbled onto the man we’d been working for months to take down.

  It had all just happened in a way that was totally fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants and riding that line between FUBAR and we might just scrape this one out.

  In the end, we’d gotten our target, the dealer, and five of the guys, but we had to wait until nearly dawn for reinforcements from headquarters and for the dumbasses to drink themselves into a stupor with alcohol provided to them by the man who’d stolen the goods.

  Thankfully, the rotgut had made the dealer and his cronies slow, otherwise the firefight might have turned out very different.

  But other than a twisted ankle—Lily had missed spotting some sort of critter’s burrow when we were laying down cover fire—and a bullet graze on Ryker’s arm— he hadn’t dodged in time to avoid the furrow on his biceps—everyone had come out unscathed and satisfied with our takedown. Luckily for my team, Ryker and Laila had been able to come in to support when we realized we’d needed backup for the takedown.

  A takedown the local police would get the credit for.

  But we’d get the dealer—she would be going into custody at KTS.

  And, for the moment, the world was a better place.

  But right now, exhaustion making my limbs heavy, my eyes absolutely burning from the lack of sleep, I didn’t give a shit about the world. I wanted to shower then go find a place to sleep, preferably that place being in Olive’s bed.

  I dropped my gear back in the staging room and headed for my quarters, knowing that even though I wanted to find my Pop, I wouldn’t interrupt her rest.

  And I was feeling very surly about what would soon be my rest in my empty and cold-ass bed.

  Which was why I didn’t see it.

  Or her rather.

  She pushed out of the shadows and launched herself into my arms. “Are you okay?”

  “Olive?” I asked dumbly, since she was quite literally in my arms.

  One look at my face had her stepping back. “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing,” I said. “You just surprised me.”

  “That”—a wave of her hand in the direction of my face—“is not surprise, and neither was it surprise giving you that dark look a few moments ago. What’s going on? Is someone hurt?”

  “No, aside from a twisted ankle and a bullet graze, everyone’s fine.”

  She breathed out a relieved sigh. “Then what is it?”

  “Nothing.” I took her hand, my heart fucking hammering in my chest. My legs were shaky. Because it was something all right. It was something huge and soul-shattering because . . . she was there. “I just need a shower and some sleep.” There. My tone sounded normal. Sort of. “Let’s go back to my place.”

  It was just . . . Olive was there.

  I didn’t realize until that moment how much I’d expected it to be the opposite.

  But she was there, waiting for me. Happy to see me, concerned for me. Not angry or resentful or . . . ready to strike out like a pissed-off snake. Read: she hadn’t reacted like my ex. Wasn’t furious I hadn’t made contact when the mission hadn’t gone as planned. I supposed that was because Olive was an agent herself, so she knew what it was like—that things could change on a dime, plans could alter, and I might be gone for more than twenty-four hours instead of the planned eight.

  But . . . it was more than that.

  She was there, with her hand in mine, being fucking sweet and awesome.

  And . . . I fell in love.

  Or maybe I’d been there already. I’d certainly known that I’d wanted to keep her forever. Then add in her taking care of me by tugging me back to my room, warming up the shower, grabbing me fresh clothes—read: not like my ex—and . . .

  I fell deeper.

  I knew that no matter what happened, this woman would always hold my heart in the palm of her hand.

  Just as I knew, it would always beat for her.

  Only for her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  KTS Satellite Base

  Western Georgia

  9:46hrs

  Olive

  I hadn’t understood it until then.

  Well, until Linc strode back onto the base, tired in his eyes and weary in his expression. His team had been out of contact for more than a day—well, Linc had been out of contact with me for more than twenty-four hours. His team had coordinated a response with Laila and Ryker and another team on base in order to bring the right amount of firepower to a situation that was going to go down, and go down hard.

  So, I’d known where Linc was, where Laila and Ryker were, but I couldn’t do a damned thing about it.

  And for a woman who was used to being on the front lines, I hadn’t liked that.

  At all.

  But it was the job, and sometimes the job meant that missions went south, and people got hurt. I had worried about Linc (and Laila and Ryker and everyone else out there), but I had tried not to. I knew they’d be as safe as possible.

  Still, it had been an odd situation.

  Normally, I would have been in the field, been able to know every bit of information they had. So this whole waiting around, twiddling my thumbs, while trying to bury that discomfort, the agony of being on the sidelines, all while hoping to hear news was not for the faint of heart.

  Nope. No way.

  Then he’d walked in, and I’d realized Linc had expected one of two things. One, for me not to be waiting for him to return to base, and two, if, by chance, I had been waiting, he’d been braced for my anger.

  And that hurt my heart.

  He’d been prepared for either vitriol or absence, and I fucking hated that he’d anticipated being on the receiving end of either.

  Linc was sweet, funny, and annoying in equal turns—cue inner snort. But the point was that he was a good guy, and aside from that one supremely jerky moment during which he’d hurt my feelings a few months back and for which he’d apologized, he’d treated me with kindness and respect.

  Did we butt heads?

  Heck yes.

  Did he never miss a moment to call me on my shit?

  Also, yes.

  But was he one of the smartest, sexiest, loveliest men I knew?

  Yup.

  So, that’s why it killed me that he’d expected to get shit on after a long fucking night, after a long fucking day, both of which meant that he and the other agents had to be running on fumes of adrenaline because their careful planning had been turned on its head.

  “Fucking motherfucker,” I murmured. I wanted to find out where his ex lived and go over to throttle her.

  “Distracted.”

  I blinked, took in the yummy picture that was Linc emerging from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, just a towel around his waist, and his yummy chest and abs on display. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You’re distracted,” he murmured, running a finger down my throat. I was in a simple hoodie and sweats that weren’t see-through this time around. A fact I was absolutely certain of because I’d played all sorts of acrobatics—acrobatics that would certainly make him furious if he’d seen me attempt them—in front of the mirror in my quarters, ensuring that no amount of squatting, bending, or material pulling taut would reveal my bright blue hedgehog-printed undies.

  “I’m not fucking distracted.”

  Lie.

  I’d been distracted before.

  I was even more distracted now. His stubble had transformed into a full beard, and water droplets glistened in the dark brown hairs. My mind was completely focused on that beard and wanting said beard between my thighs again, feeling those cool droplets against my skin, mixing with the heat of his mouth as he kissed his way up my legs.

  Nope.

  I wanted that beard, that mouth against my pussy.

  But he’d had a long night, and before I’d gotten distracted by the whole beard, shirtless, precariously perched towel situatio
n, I’d been heading out to get him food. He needed a good meal, and he needed sleep.

  He didn’t need me jumping him like he was a tree and I was the cat desperate to climb it—or rather, him.

  Linc stepped close. Real close.

  My breath caught. My pulse pattered like a machine gun, a rapid thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum.

  The slightly damp heat of his chest was soaking through the cotton of my hoodie, the fabric of his T-shirt I wore beneath it. The one I’d swiped from his hamper to sleep in the night before when he hadn’t come back to base because the annoying man had gotten me addicted to sleeping in his arms, his scent covering me, his gorgeous body wrapped around mine.

  “Hey, Distracted, what are you thinking?” He ran his knuckles down my throat, making me shiver, making the words in my throat unstick.

  “I stole your fucking shirt,” I blurted.

  He pulled back slightly, surprise in his gray eyes, but his lips were curving, tipping up at the edges, and then his hand cupped my cheek. “You stole my shirt?”

  Heat singing my cheeks, I nodded.

  “Why, baby?”

  Clearing my throat, I asked, “Why what?” I knew what. Of course, I knew what. I just . . . didn’t know if I could put myself out there that far yet.

  But then I thought of the look on his face when he’d seen me in the hall, and I knew that I had to put myself out there. At least a little bit. Because this man deserved it, and also because I deserved to have something that was honest and meant something. We both deserved to have something big, something that blew the roof off this freaking building, right?

  A mental nod.

  Damn right, we did.

  “You weren’t here,” I whispered, hating that his expression clouded, and so I quickly added, my fingers stroking over the rough bristles on his jaw, “So I found a way to sleep with you around me.”

  His lips parted.

  His eyes darkened. “Pop.”

  “Why do you call me that?”

  “You slept in my shirt?”

  My cheeks grew even hotter.