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H enner’s fingers twitched toward the phone in his jacket pocket. He had a few choice words to share with his commanding officer. About how this op lacked attention to detail—like how they were sending him into a party full of military servicemen when he was supposed to be dead.

As they hurried out of the building, he kept a hand on May’s arm, guiding her as fast as she could go in those high heels. As soon as he got a chance to report to Con exactly how many close calls he had at the gala, he would.

First, they needed to get to the hotel.

The black car was parked where they needed it to be, and he opened the back door for May to slide inside. When they were situated, he pulled out his phone, thinking to report via text, when letters flashed across his screen.

Incoming ship. Meet at port. Fast.

May read the message and threw a look at the driver.

She made a small, strangled noise in her throat and shut her mouth on whatever she was about to say.

Henner already knew what that was. The port that would receive the shipment was a good three hours from them by car.

He shot back a text to Con.

When?

Before dawn.

He traded a glance with May. They had the time to make the drive, but not much. They’d spent hours at the gala only to gain no intel about the incoming shipment. Thank god someone else fed them the tip.

“From the start, I knew this op would go tits up,” he muttered.

“Don’t you mean titties up?”

A snort burst out. The woman was actually trying to lighten the mood, which he appreciated. After looking over his shoulder every step he took in that gala, he could use some comic relief.

In a short time, they reached the hotel. The minute they got into their room, another text from Con came in.

Henner skimmed it, and adrenaline cut through his veins. “Shit.”

“What is it?” Anxiety made May’s voice tremor.

“The shipment is ahead of schedule.”

“Damn!”

“We don’t have much time. We have to get out of here. Get changed!” He watched her rush toward the open bedroom door, gaze locked on the bare expanse of her back where his hand had rested.

He could still feel the warmth of her flesh lingering in his fingers. He stretched them out, trying to dispel the sensation.

If he didn’t hurry, they’d miss that shipment.

In two long strides he reached his bag on the sofa. The clothes he’d changed out of lay on the cushion beside it. Wasting no time, he tore off the bowtie and then tackled his shirt buttons.

A small groan sounded from a few feet away. When he turned his head, he saw May through the open door, peeling the tape off her bare chest.

His gut clenched. A hot coal hit his groin at the first breasts he’d seen in person in…well, a long time.

She glanced up at him standing there shirtless too. A heartbeat stretched between them before she twisted away to give him a view of her naked spine.

He whipped open his fly, very aware of his cock starting to thicken after seeing a naked woman mere steps away. He turned aside so she didn’t look over and see the bulge in his boxer briefs as he dropped trou.

He kicked off the tight leather dress shoes he’d worn and reached for his jeans.

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of May again. She shimmied the damn pink gown down her slim torso…and off the curve of her hips.

It puddled at her feet.

Christ.

In nothing but those skimpy panties outlining the span of her hips and high heels showcasing her toned calves, she looked like a centerfold.

His cock definitely was not cooperating through this part of the mission. In fact, it was mutinous.

May walked out of his frame of view, and he finished changing into his street clothes. He tucked his sidearm into his waistband and cast a look at the open bedroom door.

“May?”

She was dressed now in fitted cargo pants and a long-sleeved black top, but he couldn’t stop picturing her in nothing but heels and lace panties.

She waved at the pink dress half in, half out of her bag. “I’m trying to shove this gown into my luggage!”

“No time.” He stepped up to the bed. “Leave it.”

Her dark eyes rounded. Until this moment, he hadn’t noticed how thick her lashes were.

His phone vibrated with an incoming message. He glanced at the screen.

“Our car’s outside. Leave your bag, May. We’ll get it later.”

With a rueful shake of her head, she swiped a simple cardholder with her ID and credit cards off the bed and shoved it into her back pocket on the way to the door.

The elevator ride down wasted precious minutes they didn’t have. May stood next to him, not speaking, her expression like a porcelain figurine, giving nothing away.

He was a head taller than her, and a hell of a lot bigger. After their hasty costume change back in the room, he was even more aware of every inch of her body. She’d yanked her hair back in a low ponytail, which was a little messy compared to her usual sleek sheet of dark hair.

Similar to how she would look after she rode his cock.

The vision pounded through his senses.

He forced his thoughts away from May and the new undercurrent riding just under the surface of their partnership.

The op came first.

They rushed out of the hotel and he picked out their car from others in the lot. “There.” He jabbed a finger at the nondescript black sedan and they hurried to jump in.

Neither of them spoke much during the ride, too engrossed in their own thoughts. He had a lot to discuss with her, such as how May knew Major General Simpson—and had the ability to call him by his first name—but there was time for that after they found that shipping crate containing the bomb.

The miles sped by, and the port spread out before them. Despite the late hour, activity continued as people worked through the night. A pre-dawn haze hung over the harbor, and the scent of salt hit his nose as he climbed out of the car.

Industrial cranes moved like slow dinosaurs, hoisting huge containers from one place to another.

Henner twitched his head for May to follow him.

“How do you know where you’re going?” she asked.

“Didn’t you hear that text come in about an hour ago?”

The way she looked at him told him she hadn’t. Being oblivious was probably very unlike her, but he wasn’t about to question what else was on her mind during their hasty drive through the dark of night.

The instructions that came in via that text replayed through Henner’s mind as he led her to the dock and took up position behind a tower of stacked crates. They were out of sight but had a clear view of the operation.

May edged up next to him, seeming even smaller behind the massive containers they hid behind.

A ship was docked, and a crane arm swung in slow arcs, unloading the cargo.

“There it is,” he whispered to May.

“It could take hours to unload the crate. And hours more to get through customs. Do you know what we’re looking for?”

He withdrew his phone and held it out for her to examine the photo of the crate snapped just before it left the port in Turkey—out of Charlie team’s reach.

A cool breeze swept across the dock. May shivered.

“I should have thought to bring my coat.” She kept her voice pitched low.

“I don’t even have one to give you.”

They kept an eye on the ship for long minutes.

“This could take hours.”

Had he noticed how silky her voice was before? Or was it just that husky whisper she used?

“Nothing moves fast in any op. And when it does, you haul ass to keep up.”

Her short, stifled laugh ended in a gasp. “There it is!”

He followed the angle of her chin across the dock. The container they’d been watching for— their container—was offloaded first.

“That was fast,” she whispered.

“Too fast.”

“It will take ages to get through customs. That inspector over there has been going through the same crate the whole time we’ve been here.”

They had a long wait for paperwork, inspections and red tape.

Or so they thought.

Instead, the crate, painted military green and marked with non-classified insignias, was waved straight through.

No secondary checks. The lid wasn’t removed and the contents searched.

It rolled right off the dock like it had been pre-cleared.

May let out the breath she’d been holding. “That is not normal.”

He reached for his phone. “We need to call Con.”

* * * * *

Lights glared from the heavy equipment on the dock, creating an inky shimmer on the water. May stood so close to Henner that she felt his body heat through the thin sleeve of her shirt. The warmth was welcome, but she didn’t know what to think about the source it came from.

He spoke in hushed monosyllables, the phone locked against his ear. The shadows rippled over his carved features, emphasizing the firm set of his jaw and twin frown lines etched between his brows.

She spent a lot of time in the field in her career, but this was her first time hiding behind crates on a dock with a Navy SEAL who looked strong enough to crush boulders. The glare he fixed on the crate they were supposed to follow grew darker by the moment.

Without any final word of farewell, he ended the call and stashed the phone in his pocket.

She stared up at him. “Well?”

“Con has no idea why that crate moved through customs so quickly.”

Frustration scudded through her, and she scrubbed a finger along her temple where a headache was starting to form. “Tell me again why you didn’t stop it from leaving that port in Turkey? Couldn’t you have intercepted it before it ever reached the US?”

The blue of his eyes seemed to shift with the shadows from navy blue to the same ink as the water.

He gave a short shake of his head. “No. We couldn’t touch it without bringing a shit storm down on us. It had to be intercepted here in the US.”

She racked her brain for what she knew from years of personal experience with explosives. But she also had a combined fifty years’ worth of knowledge gathered from her father, uncles and brother.

“Okay, let’s think about how it got pushed through customs so quickly.” The grind of crane engines and the beep of forklifts drown any other noises around them. She stared off into space, working through the problem.

After a long minute, a revelation struck.

“It would only happen if it’s a military package. But from what I know, the crate didn’t bear markings like that when it left Turkey.” She spoke slowly, aware of Henner’s eagle-sharp gaze on her.

“The terrorist wouldn’t make it obvious, May.”

She arched a brow. “You mean Cipher?”

Dropping that name let Henner know that she did have the knowledge to back her up on this.

He cocked his brow at her in return.

She went on, “There must be some new marking on the crate. An invoice or—”

“Paperwork that it’s been cleared,” he interrupted.

Excitement hatched in her stomach and took flight with a flutter. “Right!”

He searched her eyes for a beat before roaming over the rest of her face. Why did the brush of his eyes feel like a soft caress? The same way his fingers had lingered on her spine back at the gala.

His focus shifted back to the crate. “There’s not a lot of protection on the crate.”

“No guards?” She peeked out but he was a little taller, which provided a better vantage point.

“One.”

The hum of more engines added to the growing noise on the dock. A parade of trucks trickled in to collect the shipments and haul them away.

Just then, a military truck rolled into view. Sucking in a sharp breath, she latched on to Henner’s arm. His muscle rippled in answer.

“That’s the transport.”

As they looked on, a forklift buzzed up to another truck with a massive shipping pallet on its forks and loaded it into the back. The driver spoke to the dock crew for a minute and then climbed into the high seat of the truck and drove off.

The next truck in line was the military transport. The driver did not get out.

“There would be two in the vehicle. There’s usually a backup.”

Henner’s comment had the gears of her mind turning faster. “If they’re driving that crate to Fort Leonard Wood like we think, they can swap drivers. They won’t need to stop and rest.”

“Right. Get ready to move.” His tone was rough and unrelenting, like the grind of machinery on the dock. A grating of metal on metal underlaid with the mechanical groan of something being moved into place. It carried the same weight too—heavy with finality.

She didn’t know what would come next, but she was prepared for anything. If there really was a bomb in that crate—and their sources said there was—then it was stable enough for transport even as it posed a dark threat.

The crate was loaded into the military vehicle. The guard lifted a hand to indicate the driver could go.

“It’s leaving!”

Henner’s fingers lashed around her forearm and he yanked her forward. The truck rolled off the loading dock and paused long enough at the gate for them to get a good look at the driver’s profile.

“Jesus. He’s just a baby. I doubt he can even grow a beard.” He ran with her in tow to the next crate to hide behind.

She felt like a cartoon character bouncing from hiding place to hiding place. The horrible urge to laugh bubbled inside her chest.

“We have to follow it.”

Before she understood what he meant, they were running to where they left the car. “Get in!”

Breathless from the dread in her lungs as well as their sprint, she jumped into the passenger seat. She whipped around to face Henner. “We’re following them now? To Fort Leonard Wood?”

“Yes.” He punched a finger on the ignition button and slammed the car in gear. They surged forward, jerking her in the seat.

Quickly she yanked the seatbelt across herself. As she tried to clip it, she noted how unsteady her hands were.

That was a new development. May was never unsteady or even remotely shaken from the job she was hired to do. What was different about this?

“Wait—what about our things back at the hotel?”

“They’ll still be there when we get back.”

“When will that be?”

“Forget about our things, May. Get Con on the phone.” His eyes narrowed on the truck a short distance in front of them as he tailed them away from the dock. The world was cast in shades of gray in the absence of the sun that hadn’t yet risen.

He practically tossed his phone at her, and she fumbled to keep it from falling into the crack of death between the seats. With a swipe of her finger on the screen, she pulled up his last call, but it wasn’t there.

“Didn’t you just call Con?”

He glanced away from the truck. “It automatically deletes the history. Just in case.”

“You can do that?”

“We’re Blackout. We can do a lot of things. Con’s icon is on the home screen.”

Since his phone had so few icons, it was easy to figure out which one he was talking about. She tapped the square, and the phone dialed Con.

“What is it now, Chickie?”

Henner half turned his face toward the phone she held in her hand as if he could see his commanding officer. “A couple of kids are driving the military transport. We need details on them. Name and rank.”

“I’m handing you off to Cobra.”

She listened to the exchange between Henner and the man they called Cobra. She didn’t know which member of the Charlie team that was, but she was impressed by his speed. He already did the digging and had the intel at the ready.

Cobra’s voice projected over the speaker, his deep tones clipped. “They’re likely new recruits, but I can’t access the information about the drivers. We need photos to put through facial recognition.”

“We’ll get you photos.”

May’s eyes widened. She slowly turned her head to meet Henner’s expression. “Oh my god. Do you mean these guys don’t even know what they have in the back of that truck?”

Silence throbbed for a heartbeat.

“Cobra, I’ve gotta go.”

“Copy, Chickie.”

For a moment, Henner didn’t respond to May’s question. Not that she needed one—she already knew the answer to that before the words ever passed through her lips.

They continued down the road, navigating away from the dock. They hit the interstate and turned west.

The road was almost deserted at this time of day, without many semitrucks taking up the lanes.

She hunched her shoulders. “It’s hard not to be obvious that we’re following them.”

“Anyone can look like they’re following someone on an interstate. We’re all heading the same direction at the same speed.”

“But they’ll have to stop for gas sooner or later. What happens then?”

“Then we stop for gas too.”

“Oh, that won’t look fishy at all!”

He grunted. “You have very little trust in my abilities.”

“I don’t trust or distrust you. I don’t know your abilities.”

He gave her a flat look. “I’m deep black ops. I know what I’m doing.”

“All right, Mr. Smarty, why don’t you tell me how you plan to get on that base? You couldn’t even enter a military gala without the fear of being recognized.”

His expression sobered even more than it already was. “You’re right. I’m supposed to be in the grave.”

She couldn’t keep the worry out of her own expression. “I have the military clearance to get on base. But what reason do I have to be there that doesn’t look suspicious?”

His silence concerned her more than any response he might give.