Grayson's Surrender Page 7



Lori swept a hand over flyaway strands of her hair. Enough leaning on Gray, she needed to finish her job, then go home to crash. "Where is everyone?"


"I told the crew to go ahead without me." Gray jerked a thumb toward the military truck. "SOF, uh, the supervisor of flying, will take us back."


She scrubbed a palm over her face, wiping away remnants of her crying jag. "Real professional of me to miss out on the end because I needed to indulge in a little fit of histrionics."


His hands fell to rest on her shoulders. "Only a hard-nose wouldn't have been moved by what went down here tonight. So what if you needed to let go? You'd already stayed later than the rest of your team, far longer than was necessary." His fingers trailed, and he lightly squeezed her upper arms. "Cut yourself some slack."


Those broad hands warmed her, weakened her. She stepped back. "Whatever."


His hands dropped to his sides. "You ready to pack it in?"


Lori nodded. "It's going to be a long drive downtown. At least traffic will be light."


His jaw thrust forward. "You're not driving."


Irritation stirred up her second wind. "Think again."


"You're not in any shape to drive."


"Like you're any better off than I am? I can drive myself home as easily as you can." A face-splitting yawn snuck through in spite of her best efforts to swallow it. "End of discussion. But thanks all the same."


"Long missions and hours on rotation at the hospital are par for me. I'm used to it. Okay?" When she didn't answer, Gray cricked his neck to the side, once, twice, then reached to tighten the bandanna around his upper calf. "Geez, woman, why we arguing instead of sleeping?"


"It's what we do best?"


Gray glanced up at her, his eyes glittering in the night with a heat and longing that reminded her too well of what they'd always done best together.


Uh-oh. "No way, Gray. Don't even say it!"


He gave the bandanna another yank around the mud stains on his uniformed leg and stood. "Let me give you a ride, for old-times' sake. I promise not to pull off at the first dirt road and jump you. As tired as I am, I'd be pretty worthless anyway, and it would ruin all those better memories." His signature grin creased his face as he plucked his grimy flight suit. "Not to mention we both smell pretty rank."


Against her will she laughed. Against her better judgment she agreed. "Just a ride."


"Just a ride."


"And my car?" She tossed out a last half-hearted attempt at refusing. She truly would be a menace on the road if she got behind the wheel, and calling a taxi would take too long. Not to mention blatantly refusing his offer would say too much about her need to avoid him.


"Bronco and I can drive your car to your place tomorrow after debrief."


Her stomach took a nosedive. She would see him again. At least they would have Bronco as a buffer.


Gray frowned. "Unless you need a ride into work. I could—"


Come earlier alone? Not a chance. "I moved to an apartment above the offices. My assistant is holding down the fort today and tomorrow, anyway, because of the mission's long hours."


"No sweat, then."


No sweat?


Oh there was plenty of emotional sweat to go around, and it carried the tauntingly familiar scent of bay rum and Gray.


* * *


At the base ops parking lot, Gray thumbed the unlock button on his key chain. The running-board lights glowed to lifelike a beacon in the dark as he strode ahead of Lori to open the passenger door. He reached to brace her elbow as she stepped up into the Explorer. Even weaving on her feet, she ignored him and used the hand grip and running board to lever herself inside the car.


Fine, if that's the way she wanted to play it. He kept his eyes firmly off her slim hips, not that it helped. His mind's eye remembered them well.


He circled and climbed into the driver's seat, the hint of gently musky perspiration and peaches already invading his car as well as his senses. Memories marched over him, images of choosing peach-scented lotion for her at the mall. He'd tested half the selections on Lori, working his way up inch after inch of the tender inside of her arm. Stirred into a frenzy by the time they'd reached the end of the display counter, they'd sped back to his apartment…


Gray rolled the windows down. Cranking the air conditioner, he let it blast out the oppressive heat. "Where are we going?"


Her startled gaze met his.


Double entendres stunk, and they seemed to abound around Lori. Gray chose his words carefully. "Where do you live now? You mentioned an apartment over an office. I assume that means you're not renting the carriage house anymore."


"Oh, right. I moved this year. When I landed the job to start up the offices here in Charleston, the building we use has offices on the first floor. I rent the second. It just made sense for me to live there."


"And that's where?"


Crickets hummed an evening tune while he waited. She twirled the end of her braid around her finger, one of her understated signs Gray recognized as nerves. With his reserves nearing zero, he needed to get her in bed soon.


Bed? Damn.


Had Freud and his infamous slips jumped in the car with them while Gray was busy ogling Lori's silky hair? "Lori? Where's your place?"


"Oh." She laughed and slumped back against the seat. "I must be punch drunk from lack of sleep. You were right not to let me drive. It's downtown on Broad Street."


"Great locale." And a long drive. He shuffled aside his own pressing need to fall facedown on his bed.


Alone. He rushed the thought before Freudian slips and double entendres could bite him on the libido again.


Slower and slower Lori twisted the end of her braid. "It's a fixer upper, but worth the elbow grease. I'm happy with it."


Happy. She'd moved on, carved out a great life for herself. Time to yank himself out of limbo. He raised the windows and slid the Explorer into drive.


Lori started fading before he reached the base's front gate. Traffic was sporadic and light, not many drivers other than truckers venturing out after twelve on a weeknight.


Gray blasted the air conditioner on his face to keep himself alert and Lori awake. "And you're happy with the job?"


"Yeah. I love it. I just hope the new southeast division makes it through its probationary period. Placing these children without a hitch will go a long way in buying us some security."


They'd never discussed her work much in the past, although her dedication was obvious. Her life-threatening sprint on the flight line went beyond dedication. "What made you switch jobs?"


"Working for the Department of Social Services was starting to wear on me. I tried to focus on the kids I helped, but there are just too many loopholes in the system. Children don't always end up where they should. Every time I had to return a child to a home my instincts told me wasn't safe, it tore me up inside." She crooked her arm against the window to pillow her head. "Maybe I'm being selfish. But there's more immediate gratification in this job, finding homes for these children, even being a foster parent in a pinch. These kids give me so much. I never forget a face." Her smile faded.


Magda might as well have been sitting in the back seat, because her tear-streaked face all but hovered between them. "You're the last person I would call selfish."


"Thanks, Gray," she whispered, "but maybe you just don't know me all that well."


Highway streetlights whipped past in bursts and fading flashes. His grip tightened around the steering wheel. "So have you found the guy who does know you?"


The question fell out of Gray's mouth before he could think to stop it. He turned another air-conditioning vent on his face because he must be groggier than he thought he was to have let that one slip.


Still he waited for her answer, not sure what he wanted it to be. After two mile markers of silence, he glanced at her. She lay limp against the door, her lashes against her cheeks, her br**sts gliding in the even rise and fall of deep slumber. He'd always enjoyed watching her sleep.


Gray jerked his gaze back to the road before he landed in more than a ditch. The turnoff to his North Charleston apartment approached, Lori's place still at least a half hour away. He blinked past the grit in his eyes and stifled a yawn.


He looked at the road sign again. Without giving himself time to change his mind, he turned at his exit. She could sleep in the guest room. He would take her home in the morning.


Unlike Lori, he'd never had any problem being selfish.


Pulling into his driveway, he stared at the complex of brick apartments from Lori's perspective, trying to see it as a home rather than a place to park his stuff. It offered direct access to the pool, gym and hot tub, nothing spectacular but serviceable, with minimal upkeep when he left for long deployments.


Nevertheless he wouldn't miss it when the packers loaded his furniture in two weeks. And the woman beside him…?


Gray stretched his neck from side to side, clearing his mind so he could get them both into the apartment.


"Lori," he called softly. When she didn't stir, he nudged her shoulder. "Lori, we're here, at my apartment."


He added the last and waited for the explosion. Nothing. Gray shook her shoulder—her soft, delicate shoulder.


She shifted away from the window and rested her cheek on his hand. She nuzzled him with a sleepy moan that sent his thoughts of sleep on a direct flight out the window.


He considered his memory to be top-notch, but no way in hell could he have remembered just how satiny her skin felt against his. She mumbled, nuzzling him again.


And kissed his wrist.


Forget waking her up. Gray yanked his hand away. He would carry her to his first-floor apartment.


Her other hand crept up his arm to cup his face. "Hey, baby." Her Southern drawl floated on the air, husky and not quite awake. "We're here already, huh?"


Gray stifled a groan. Apparently, he'd also forgotten how deeply she slept. "Wake up, Lori."


"Don't want to." Her head lolled to rest on his chest as her arms looped around his neck. "You're a great pillow, cuddly and warm."


Another part of him was far from soft but definitely on fire.


He carefully disengaged her arms. An image of untwining Magda from Lori earlier flashed in Gray's mind, effectively dousing the moment. God, he wanted this day to end.


Gray slid from the car and circled to Lori's side. He lifted her into his arms, not an easy task as she was a tall woman and dead weight. She snuggled her face right into his neck. He walked faster.


At his apartment he put her down to unlock the door. She leaned against him, her arms encircling his neck. Her small, but perfectly soft br**sts seared his chest, burning away his exhaustion.


She was obviously asleep. But if the past played itself out in her dream, her next move would involve her fascination with his flight suit zipper.


"Come on, Lori, let's get you inside. Fast." Keys jingling, he unlocked the door. Lori's arms dropped away, and Gray caught her around her waist as he shoved the door open.


She grabbed his butt. "Have I ever told you how great you look in a flight suit?"


He couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. "Hey, honey, I'm not a piece of meat, you know," he mumbled, scooping her into his arms. Too bad her touch lingered.


Her head drooped against his shoulder. "Flight suits are so hot."


"I'll make sure to share that with the folks at work." Kicking the door shut, he strode into the living room. Dimmed lights from the vaulted ceiling illuminated a shadowy path. He limped down the hall as fast as he could, not nearly fast enough to the guest room. He lowered Lori to her feet again and swept the daybed clear of bubble wrap and packing supplies.


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