Page 52 of Lucky Charm

“And whose fault is that?”

“I can only work with what I’ve been given. Thanks for telling us upfront that Quaid is a personal friend of Reid’s.”

“Not necessary information.”

Hunt stood. “It sure as hell is when my men are taking the risk with a non-combatant in the mix.”

Scott rose, every bit of his command authority oozing from his posture. “That’s enough. You can go, Hunt. Get some rest.” Scott glared at Stocker.

“I’m not finished,” Stocker snarled, shoving his chair back.

“Yes. You are. Dismissed, Lieutenant.” Scott’s clipped words chilled Hunt’s temper, and he stepped away before the impulse to punch Stockerbroke through. He exited the room without a backward glance.

∞∞∞∞∞

Hunt stood outside Cait’s hospital room, her gray and lavender blanket over his arm. She should’ve been in an exhausted sleep, but she lay twisted in the hospital covers and moaned periodically – uncomfortable and hurting. His gut twisted. A raw need to hold her expanded in his chest.

Hewanted.

To wake her so she’d know she was safe, to touch her soft skin to sooth, to lie with her so she’d sleep – but if caught, that would do nothing to stem the rampant gossip.

He’d already slipped into her quarters to retrieve her blanket and made his way here without attention. Standing motionless – the quiet of the dead of night broken only by the soft hum of hospital activity – he dismissed mission concerns for personal ones, confident that Doogie had him covered.

Moving silently, he unfolded the blanket, settled it across her, and shifted the twisted blankets out of the way so she wouldn’t be bound. He paid careful attention to how the folds unraveled to embrace her tired body. Tucking the sides in close to her, he identified the squeak of shoes and straightened.

At the doorway, Colonel Cartwright’s eyes widened, her brows lifting in surprise. “You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, moving into the area and closing the curtains of the cubicle.

“First chance I’ve had to check on her.” Hunt kept his voice low and returned to his task, checking every section to make sure Cait was wrapped in warmth. The colonel moved to the end of the bed, watching him, and saying nothing.

Military trained to silence, he never uttered anything he didn’t want to, but the woman’s opinion mattered to Cait, so she would matter to him. “She hates being cold. I knew her blanket would help.”

“What are you doing, LT?” He read her solemn face, her protective stance, and recognized the need to be honest with the woman.

“The hell if I know, Colonel, but I couldn’t not come. She dug deep out there and stayed right in step the whole way. I had to know she’s safe and warm.”

The woman stayed silent. Uncomfortable, he scrambled for something else to say that wouldn’t expose the mitigated mess that defined his feelings for Doc.

She moved closer to him, keeping her voice low. “Thank you for bringing her back to us.” He didn’t expect the sheen of tears in her eyes.

He choked up and struggled to speak. Finally, he settled on simple words. “You’re welcome.”

The silence grew awkward before she spoke again. “Can you sit with her?”

The trust surprised. “Yes.”

The colonel nodded and went back to the opening. “I’ll keep everyone out for a while.”

Given her words, Hunt felt like a kid who’d gained a huge concession. “I want her to sleep.”

“I know.” She silently left, carefully closing them in.

Hunt pulled the only chair in the room to the bed, sat, and took her hand. She turned, tucked his hand under her cheek, and sighed. Her soft skin and warm breath spread over his skin, knocking him back. He eased deeper into the seat and basked in a surge of contentment. For the first time in seventy-two hours, the nasty agitation churning in his stomach settled.

He was supposed to be in his quarters grabbing some sleep, but he’d rest better here, grounding his worst-case fears with the warmth of her skin. He leaned his head back against the wall and shut his eyes.

Nobody ever talked about what happened in SEAL training after Hell Week – the physical toll, the mental challenge, the recovery time. He’d powered through every part, only tripping up on combat diving. He wasn’t a natural frogman and spent hours training himself to proficiency. He never felt finished training. It was the only mindset that always kept him on top.

Cait was the first time in all those years that he let himself be distracted. His gut knew she was necessary to his stability, but his mind had no idea how to work her into his life.