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He looked back at her. “I think you failed to realize that wasn’t an invitation.”
She snorted. “I don’t take orders from you.”
Ronan saw the challenge in her expression. Well, okay, he was up to it. She smiled and lifted an eyebrow at him, adding to the fun. He smiled as he said, “You do. I’m in charge of security for this camp now. You’ll do as I say when I say it.” He was damned if he was going to eat while she was hungry.
She crossed her arms and stared at him, defiance flashing in every cell of her body. “In security matters, yes. In this, no.”
“Buchanan, I’m giving you one opportunity to change your mind.”
“No.” She shook her head, smiling wickedly. Putting on his helmet, he walked forward and dipped down before slinging her over the shoulder that was not carrying his M-4.
“What are you doing? Stop! You can’t do this!” she shrieked, and then a bubble of laughter belted out across the tent.
“I am doing this. You had your opportunity.” He ducked through the opening of the tent that was connected to Miller’s.
“I’m serious! Stop and put me down.” Her laughter took away any severity of the protest. Ronan laughed when she snorted and then laughed harder. Ronan saw Miller push the flap of his tent back. His look of worry turned to surprise and then to humor. “Miller! Tell him to put me down. Oh my God, I’m going to get altitude sickness up here.”
“Which leads to the question, why are you up there, Fleur?” Miller asked, laughing with them now.
“She failed to follow an order,” Ronan provided.
She squeaked and grabbed at the back of his uniform. Her laughter peeled across the camp, and they attracted more eyes as she laughed. “He can’t order me to eat. Tell him to put me down.”
“I can when she hasn’t eaten today. I’m taking her to dinner.”
“Buchanan, I told you to take better care of yourself,” Miller fussed at her in mock sternness. Ronan jostled her to carry over his shoulder more easily, and her laughter grew louder. “Enjoy dinner, Buchanan,” Miller called after them.
“I’m going to report this, Ronan.” Her threat was lost in her giggles.
Ronan spun her around. “To whom?” he asked. “I don’t see anyone here.”
She shrieked and laughed harder. “To mysupervisors.” The words were barely recognizable. She went limp and dropped over his back, still laughing. He had to hurry to pin her legs so she wouldn’t face-plant in the dirt. His laughter and hers mixed as he made his way to their tent.
“Whatcha got there, Skipper?” Wolf asked from the darkness outside the camp.
“A dinner guest,” he said, and she let out a laugh.
“A brute has kidnapped me. You should help me.”
Wolf laughed. “Nah, I think the Skipper has things handled.”
“Brat.” She pushed up. “Hey, where did he go?” He could feel her twisting to look for Wolf. “Man, he’s good at disappearing, isn’t he?”
“One of the best,” Ronan agreed.
“Which one was that?” she asked, still trying to lift herself by holding onto his uniform.
“Wolf,” he answered, chuckling as he dropped her on her feet when he entered the tent. Jug and Wraith looked up when they entered.
“Whew!” She put out an arm, and he grabbed it to steady her. “I’m slightly dizzy.”
“Because you haven’t eaten,” Ronan said.
“Or it could be that I was tossed over an ogre’s shoulder and dragged out of my tent,” she said.
“Is that possible?” Jug asked. “Being tossed over a shoulder and dragged?”
Wraith chuckled. “Nope.” He stood up and grabbed his weapon. “Jug.”