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“They’ll definitely dosomekind of job,” my friend replied. “But in a storm like this, who knows?”

We’d spent the first fifteen or twenty minutes dragging out the heavy plastic lluevers and hanging them from the many different mounting hooks. They were designed to seal off the open areas of the house, keeping the dust and sand from blowing in during a situation such as this.

The storm was nasty — maybe even too powerful for the heavy curtain of laminated plastic. By now though, there was nothing more to be done. Either the system would work or it wouldn’t.

“What now?” asked Juliana.

Her face was still adorably flushed with the exertion of running around, helping us close all the windows and lock all the doors. Right now her eyes shone with an inner light that made them seem alive. They were extraordinarily beautiful too: the light-brown color of coffee mixed with cream.

“What now?” I repeated, smiling. “Well, there’s nothing else to do but wait out the storm.”

I lifted the glass of red wine she’d been drinking earlier and handed it back to her. But not before topping it off from the open bottle.

“Oh I wouldn’t say there’snothingto do,” she smirked devilishly, as she thanked me with an appreciative nod. “But you boys promised to fill me in about what’s going on. And that includes telling me why Devyn just got kidnapped by a giant, scary helicopter.”

She took a sip, and I watched as the wine slid down her lovely, unblemished throat. Juliana’s movements were lithe and feminine as she made her way across the room. Eventually she settled into the couch, crossing one leg sultrily over the other.

“So you’reallmilitary?” she guessed with a sigh.

Maverick stared back at me for a moment, and eventually nodded.

“Yes,” I told her. “We are.”

“And you’re all Navy, like Devyn?”

“SEALs actually,” Maverick replied, without fanfare. “We go all the way back to BUDS school together. Did our Tactical Air Operations down in San Diego, as well.”

Juliana’s mouth curled a little at the corners. She seemed impressed.

“If the three of you are Navy SEALs, what are you doing all the way out here in the desert?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you be traveling the world, completing missions? Inserting yourselves into conflict? Runningtowarddanger, instead of—”

“We did all those things already,” Maverick pointed out. “For more than ten years now, we’ve put in our time.”

Juliana’s eyebrow arched. “So now you’re done?”

“Far from it,” I told her. “Nowadays we just have a different… contract.”

Maverick crossed the room, then bent to grab a pair of beers from the fridge under the bar. He popped both caps and handed me one.

“You live out here with the caveat you could be called in to work,” Juliana guessed.

I nodded and drank. “That’s right.”

“At any time,” she continued, pointing outside. “Like Devyn.”

“Just like Devyn, yes,” I answered. “Alright it doesn’t usually go down likethat.”

Maverick sat down on the opposite couch, cradling his beer in both hands. He was looking our guest over every bit as much as I was. Which if we were being honest, was quite a lot.

“We have different skillsets though,” Maverick cut in. “Different jobs. Gage and I here do mostly Reconnaissance, with Special Ops mixed in.”

“Special Ops with the occasional support team mission,” I added. “Joint SWCC forces. Multiple branches, engaging in—”

“English please?” Juliana smiled sweetly, setting her lips back to her glass.

“Fine,” I sighed, watching those lips intently. “Let’s just say the Navy puts us down someplace and we take it from there. Night missions, mostly. Hostage recovery, too.”

She sipped her wine and nodded slowly, staring back at us. The house creaked as the wind began howling even more loudly.