Escape To Sunset - Sharon Hamilton Page 0,25
she’s way smarter than me because, well, when a woman feels like she’s worshiped, she puts it out like nobody’s business.”
“Well, you would know, Kyle.”
“Watch it. Okay, just humor me. My short answer is run, after you pick your clothes up, that is.”
Jason chuckled again. He waited for the long answer.
“My quicker answer is run.”
Jason felt cheated. “But…”
“The complicated answer requires a question from me. Is this Miss Have-A-Good-Time or Miss Permanent sort of thing? I mean you guys are all about instalove, so forget that.”
“She’s in danger, Kyle. And that’s what we do. We ride in and save the day.”
“In Portland. You’re gonna do this in Portland.”
“I was thinking if…”
“Are you kidding me? You seriously think that is a good idea?”
“They’re gonna kill her, Kyle. I can just sense it.”
“And I’m saying I’m going to kill you if you don’t stop thinking about it.”
Jason had never felt this way. For once, the Navy, his career, his LPO didn’t have the answers he wanted them to have.
“Look. What you don’t yet know is there’s talk of another quick mission, like two weeks max. Back to Benin or Nigeria. And don’t go telling the other men. It might happen this week. I can’t have you missing your obligation because you’re playing private dick in Portland. The timeline’s been tentatively moved up. So even if I did give you the green light, you’d have to turn around and fly back here if it was a go. That could happen tomorrow the next day. I’m just staying by the phone. Our ten-day window has shriveled like my grandfather.”
“I’d be okay with that.”
“And then who would protect her?”
“At that point, I get the police involved.”
“Um hum. The same police she doesn’t trust now. You think you can pull that off? Seriously, Jason?”
“If it was our only option, and for her safety.”
“Personally, I think she better stay there in Florida. I’ll grant you a few more days, since you’re with the other guys there. Do not breathe a word to anyone.”
“I won’t. Thanks, Kyle. I have one more question.”
“Go ahead.” Kyle’s voice held exhaustion.
“What if she’s working the other end of the same group we’ve been working with? You remember that guy Colin Riley? He lives in Portland, doesn’t he?”
Kyle exhaled. “Because we’re not that lucky, Jason.”
Saying good-bye, they disconnected. Jason checked his cell, thinking he might have gotten a call while he was talking to Kyle, and discovered it was a text from Andy.
‘I’m guessing we’re counting chickens, then?’
He texted back. ‘I’m right outside your door.’
‘Um. No, you’re not. We’re on the patio.’
Before him was a familiar circle of friends sitting around a backyard fire pit. Like the parties on the beach at Coronado, they hadn’t scrimped on the fire, which sent fingers of flame several feet above the grate.
Damon rose and shook his hand. “Hey, Jason. Thanks for taking good care of old Thomas.”
“You bet.”
“You remember Martel?”
“I sure do. Didn’t come to the wedding, but that party was hard to forget. Didn’t remember too much of it, though.”
“No one did,” barked Andy.
Jason waved to Aimee and Cory then waited for Martel to take a seat before he sat next to Andy. He addressed Damon first. “Are you hooking up with Team 4 like Andy here?”
“Martel’s a teacher. And she’s got a dream job neither one of us wants her to give up. But after my billet is done, I’m not re-upping.”
Andy sat up straight. “How does that work? You’re on one side of the country, and she’s on the other?”
“You forget, Andy, I get summers off. It’s better to be in San Diego at that time, anyway. Cooler.” Martel told him.
“We do rack up the miles some. It’s not forever,” Damon added.
“Where the hell did you slink off to last night?” Cory barked.
The guy might have his drinking under control, but his mouth was still a problem. Jason wasn’t sure he could spend too much time around the man.
Aimee frowned. “Cory, you’re being obnoxious.”
“Did they work on that shoulder in San Antonio?” Andy asked, changing the subject.
“I’m having to get surgery in a couple of months. Doing some PT which is supposed to help. But they’re not happy with some of the muscle attachment. Of course, those take longer to heal.” Cory looked glum, staring down at his beer.
With one major injury and recovery Cory’d already used up his free bite. He would get rolled, and if he wanted to stay in the Navy, they’d have to give him a desk job. He