Page 38 of Jason Bourne (Seals on Fraiser Mountain #7)

Lane

T he hospital was quiet, sterile, and far too bright after the chaos of the ridge. Marcie was asleep, IV dripping steadily into her arm, a nurse keeping close watch. She’d live. That was what mattered.

Jason stood beside me, arms crossed, silent but steady. Just his presence calmed me more than I wanted to admit.

“You were great tonight,” he said finally.

I glanced at him. “So did you.”

His mouth quirked. “Always the diplomat.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to him. “Are you as hot as I am?”

I grinned, “Hotter, but it’ll have to wait.”

He smiled.

I snorted softly, but the sound broke into something else—relief, exhaustion, maybe even the weight of knowing how close we’d come to losing that girl.

Jason must’ve seen it on my face, because he leaned in, his voice low. “She’s safe because of you, Lane. Don’t carry the weight like you didn’t do enough.”

The knot in my chest loosened. “Five years apart, and you still know how to read me better than anyone.”

“Because I never stopped watching you,” he admitted, eyes burning into mine.

Heat rippled through me, sudden and undeniable. I swallowed hard, realizing the hallway was empty, and the nurses’ station was around the corner.

Jason’s gaze dropped to my mouth, and that was all it took.

I tugged him into the nearest empty room—supplies stacked high on metal shelves, the smell of antiseptic sharp in the air. The door clicked shut behind us.

His hands were on me instantly, strong and certain, pulling me against him like he’d been starving. My back hit the wall, and I gasped against his mouth as his lips claimed mine—hot, rough, familiar.

“Damn it, Lane,” he growled between kisses, “let me know when you are ready to scream.”

I fisted his shirt, dragging him closer, desperate to erase every second we’d lost. “Are you planning to make me scream a lot?”

“You know it, sweetheart.”

The world outside—the hospital, the case, Harris’s men—it all vanished. There was only us. The burn of his hands. The heat of his mouth. The truth is that no matter what, the love we had for each other overpowered everything else. And now, we were done wasting time.