Page 14 of Boomer

It sounded honest. It sounded worse than honesty. It sounded likehope.

She couldn’t give him that. Not yet.

“We have a lot to discuss,” she said, all crisp consonants. “Briefing in the morning. Right now, we’re going to get you settled for the night.”

Taylor’s throat tightened. Her mind scrambled to reset, to recover, but her body was still betraying her, heart poundingagainst her ribs like it wanted to break formation and reach for him.Gott, how does he do that?

Head held high, she hoped no one would notice the crack in her voice. Hoping the heat in her face didn’t show.

Bash watched everything, as always. He stepped a little closer, leaning in just enough to keep his words private. “Nice going, Southern fried,” he said under his breath, voice dry, but with the faintest flicker ofrespectbeneath the sarcasm. “Didn’t know you spoke warhead-level German.”

“Fluently,” he said with unmistakable heat in his voice. “I’m a demo expert. I know all the explosive languages.”

Bash let out a short huff, somewhere between a laugh and a curse. “Well. Bloody hell.”

Breakneck snorted. “Clean up on the tarmac. First blood drawn.”

She barely noted Bash or Breakneck’s responses, because she clenched her thighs together as a wave of heat rushed through her core. That was directed at her, no doubt. It hit like he intended, a heat-seekingkerpowmissile, right between her thighs, an involuntary shot of pure explosive Boomer-level flirting with an ease that made her melt inside.

She felt the weight of his gaze as he passed her, but… She. Could. Not. Look. At. Him.

Only when he was safely away did she let her eyes follow him. His shoulders. The way his shirt clung. The damn jeans.

Really. Could jeans be outlawed? Could a voice be registered as a deadly weapon?

There was no tactical defense against that.

None at all.

She was trained to disarm threats. But what the hell did you do when the weapon was wrapped in sinew and muscle with the kind of mind you wanted to fuck as hard as his body?

When they started to load up the vans ten minutes later, Taylor hadn't expected this many bodies. There were more boots, more gear bags, and more volume than her boss had prepared for. The vans filled quickly, and she watched the last few men filter into the second transport with a rising knot in her chest.

Only one seat was left. The passenger side of her vehicle.

Boomer met her gaze across the open van door, that familiar heaviness in his eyes. He knew. Of course, he knew what the only option was.

She wanted to protest, wanted to redirect, reassign,anything. But there wasn’t space or time. She was too tired to put up a show of authority just to protect her damn heartbeat.

She nudged her chin toward the passenger side of her vehicle. He walked over as all eyes in both vans watched.

He climbed in unfazed from the scrutiny and the importance of what they were both feeling. The scent of heat was tangible, and underneath was salt, dust, a trace of something grounding and unshakably male. He took the seat beside her, enclosing them in this intimate space.

She started the engine, adjusted the rearview. Her pulse was too loud. The silence held. Strangely, it didn’t feel awkward. Just…weighted.

Then his voice came, low, velvet-edged, quiet enough but it still jolted her. “Thanks for meeting us.” Her throat tightened. “You look like you got roused from bed.” It was a simple comment. But his voice wenthoarsearound the edges of it, like the image hit him harder than it should have. She felt his gaze brush her face, soft, deliberate, and she liked it. It made her skin heat under her windbreaker. Made her fingers tighten around the wheel.

Where the fuck was her control?

“I’m sure I look like hell warmed over,” she murmured, eyes locked on the road.

He chuckled, and the sound went straight to her core, deep, amused, intimate in a way that shouldn’t have been possible for what was essentially two strangers.

“Never. You always look beautiful.”

Her jaw tensed. Why did he have tosaythings like that? Why did he have tomeanthem?

Why, inGott’s name, did his voice sound even more dangerous when softened by exhaustion and sincerity?