Page 77 of Tag (The Golden Team #9)

Aponi

T he first thing I felt was warmth.

Not the dry heat of the desert, but the solid, steady kind—the kind that came from the man beside me.

Tag’s arm was draped over my waist, his chest pressed against my back, his breathing slow and deep. For a moment, I let myself just stay there, eyes closed, the rise and fall of his chest syncing with mine.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with sleep.

I smiled against the pillow. “I didn’t want to move. It’s too perfect.”

He shifted closer, lips brushing the curve of my shoulder. “We should have more nights like this.”

I turned to face him, tracing the faint line of stubble along his jaw. “You’re assuming we’ll get nights like this.”

His gaze softened, but there was that hint of steel underneath. “I’ll make sure we do.”

I kissed him, slow and lingering, and for a heartbeat, I could almost believe the world outside didn’t exist.

Then the sharp buzz of his communication unit shattered the quiet.

Tag rolled onto his back with a muttered curse, reaching for the handset on the nightstand. “Tag.”

Callahan’s voice came through, clipped and urgent. “We’ve got a problem. Graves’ people hit a supply convoy in Arizona—took three hostages. They’re broadcasting demands.”

Tag’s eyes met mine, and the warmth of the morning was gone, replaced by the sharp edge I knew all too well. “What demands?”

“Trade.” Callahan’s pause was deliberate. “They want Aponi.”

The air in the room went heavy.

Tag set the communications down slowly, his jaw tightening. “They’re not getting you.”

I sat up, pulling the sheet around me. “You know what this means, Tag. Graves planned this. Even from a cell, he’s still moving pieces.”

He swung his legs out of bed, already reaching for his gear. “Then we move faster. We take the board away from him.”

The moment between us was gone, but the heat in his eyes when he glanced back at me said it wasn’t lost. Just waiting.

And I knew when this was over, we’d find it again.