Page 33 of Luck Be Mine (The Defenders #3)

“God, Hunt. So good,” she whispered. Tipping over into completion, she shut her eyes and existed in the euphoria, feeling Hunt find his own.

He collapsed and twisted so they were side by side. “Look up.”

She squinted to see his face. He pointed at the sky.

The moon glowed in vivid yellow and decorated the dark sky. Live by the sun. Love by the moon. The old saying popped into her head.

“Stars, Cait.”

Cait shifted her gaze. There was enough twinkle to enchant.

Hunt rolled so she was tucked with him at her back and flipped the empty side of the blanket over the top of them.

Cait snuggled close, holding his arms in place.

He tipped her face to his and kissed her again. “I keep having firsts with you.”

“May it be forever.”

His phone buzzed.

Cait clasped his hand in hers to hold the moment a second longer.

He answered his phone, and she let go.

She flipped back the blanket and moved away from him. Standing from the bed, she slipped her arms back into her straps, and went to the door of the family room. She turned to watch him. “Happy birthday to me.”

His eyes stayed on her, but his phone was balanced between his shoulder and ear while he straightened his own clothes.

Cait slipped into the family room and found a T-shirt over the arm of the beloved red sofa. Black, plain. Hunt’s. Tackling the dread yet thankful for the date, she dropped her dress and put on the shirt. She went back outside to gather the s’more supplies and the drink.

“I’ll be in.” He disconnected.

Cait pursed her lips, working to conquer tears, frustration and a bit of anger. “You have to go.” It wasn’t a question.

“At least we got dinner and a movie. Happy birthday.” The regret in his eyes chilled her anger.

Honesty. Build it. “It shreds me when you leave.”

“Me, too. Hardest thing about this, but it’s what I signed up for.”

“We’ve been at this for awhile. I get it. I’m suffering from conflicting emotions and not navigating very well.”

He took her mouth in a savage kiss and feeling the same angry wildness, she gave as good as she got.

Hunt pulled away, swearing. “I didn’t mean–” He dipped in again and gentled his lips. Tears flowed. She soothed him the only way she knew how, with her own soft lips and a tight hold.

“I love you,” Hunt whispered. “Please, don’t forget.”

“I won’t, and you don’t forget you’re my everything, okay?”

“Deal.”

“I have to go.”

“You should take a quick shower. You smell like…well, you know.”

He grinned and made a come-with-me motion with his finger. “Talk to me before I leave.”

She followed him to their bedroom, changed to her favorite yoga pants but kept Hunt’s shirt, and carefully laid out the red dress to take to the cleaners.

She sat in the bathroom amid the steam and talked to him.

She helped him pack to leave.

Determined to preserve their night together, she kissed him over and over at the front door, then waved from the porch and blew him a kiss as he drove away.

“I do love you.” The words floated after the truck, Hunt no longer able to hear them. “But letting you go is still tough every time.” She’d forgotten to use her ‘no blood’ ritual or tell him to keep his head up.

Dragging in a rough breath, she sat on the steps by the pumpkins.

The backyard would forever be theirs.

But she was alone again on the front porch.

§§§§§§§§§§

? When Hope Becomes Strategy ?

Mackey Reynolds parked blocks away from where he needed to be and grabbed the missing person’s red QM file from the seat. Find one homeless Army vet living in a city with thousands in similar circumstances.

“Needle. Haystack,” he muttered. “How hard could it be?”

San Diego was a mess of bases, businesses, and beaches.

Home to the Navy’s Pacific Fleet, it had a significant concentration of active-duty service members and one of the largest veteran populations in the country.

If Delaney was hiding, he picked the perfect city to vanish in.

Even if he wasn’t hiding, the search would be difficult.

Mackey had six sisters – five for real, and one from the minute he gave her away to a SEAL at her wedding.

The fire in Cait’s eyes when she talked about helping this man had lit a fuse in him, too.

His ego puffed up, his Special Forces brain scoffed, and still he hadn’t said no.

Because she’d whispered, “I know you don’t quit,” and the words struck like tinder to flame.

His phone rang. Quaid. He answered while he spread out Delaney’s DD-214. No California postings listed, and the guy was born and bred in Indianapolis. All his Army stations were in the Midwest and Southeast, his missions all in overseas war zones.

“What?” he growled, annoyance riding him. Loyal to the bone, he’d didn’t bitch about the job.

“Haven’t found him yet?”

“I’ve been on this less than twenty-four hours, so no. I haven’t found him. Do you have any idea how many places shelter homeless in this city? Not that I disagree, but it’s hell on a search. Send Remy and Connors my way.”

“Will do. Not at the address he gave the hospital?”

“No brainer.”

“Cait guessed. Where are you?”

“East Village. Downtown core. Not far from the VA hospital. There are tent lines everywhere.”

“What’s next?”

“Funny you should ask. I’m going to hit Mission Valley along the San Diego River next. He might be the type who goes more survivalist.”

“Feels removed. Hospital says he was picked up by the fire department paramedics in the East Village area.”

“He may roam, though. We’ll do a thorough sweep.” Mackey closed the folder. His military record wasn’t going to help them.

A man limped across the sidewalk with a cart full of recycling. Further along the street, a pit bull licked his chops, guarding a woman asleep against a brick building. The tents spread for blocks in a discordant array. The area reeked of pain and suffering.

Mackey’s father always used to tell him you couldn’t fix everything.

The Army taught him to try. Cait’s determination fueled the belief.

Paper rustled on Quaid’s end. In their offices, he had their search data on a board in front of him. Playboy couldn’t hit these homeless street without a significant disguise.

“He’s got a dead arm and hand like Cait’s was. Doesn’t strike me as a smart move to be hauling his stuff around all the time,” Quaid mused.

Mackey grabbed a peppermint from his console. Anything to halt his habit of grinding his teeth. “He’s also someone who stopped trusting the system. I don’t see him hanging here by all the social services. He won’t use them. Doesn’t play for me. I’d go where no one came looking.”

“Celissa checked all the formal shelters and called the churches. No luck. I put a call into Frank Walker at the PD. Waiting for him to get back to me.”

“Tell her thanks, and let me know what Frank says. I won’t be surprised to find this guy on his own in a hidey hole.”

“Remy and Connors just left. Give them twenty minutes to get to you. I’ll check in later. Take a nap.”

“Not even worth the effort. Out.”

Mackey settled to watch the pit bull and waited.