He sat on the deck, breathing hard, as Dodge wrapped Pete’s leg in a tourniquet. Colt retook the helm, turned on the lights, and hit it.

The boat leaped to life, almost immediately planing out over the chop of the water.

Dodge sat down next to him. “He’s going to be okay. The bleeding is already slowing.”

Ranger leaned his head back, stared at the blinking stars, and smiled.

Hoo-yah.

She hated every single minute of this waiting game.

Tae stood by the pool, her arms folded over her body, staring out into the darkness. Next to her, Noemi’s gaze was also pinned on the dark night, in the direction that Ranger, Colt, and Dodge had gone in the high-powered cigarette boat of their host.

Tae had her answer.

It wasn’t worth it.

Not by the look on Noemi’s face.

And probably not by her face either, if she took a good look because . . .

Because she just couldn’t lose him.

And that fact was exactly why she shouldn’t let herself fall for Colt—something she knew, but what was a girl to do? Colt Kingston was a hard man to resist.

Especially today, when he went with her to the lab that Logan had set up twenty minutes away, on Patrick Space Force base. The way Colt had asked her about the machinery, the process of making a vaccine, as if her world, her life, mattered very much to him.

He made her feel smart, important. Desired.

And then brave. Because when they’d returned to the house, before he disappeared with the guys for one last briefing of their secret op tonight, he’d taken her out on a Jet Ski. Like they were on some kind of vacation.

She’d left all the craziness behind as she held on to Colt, the wind in her hair. He smelled of the sun, of coconut oil, his hair tied back, looking every inch like some beachcombing bum.

One look at his body, however, said something else. Sure, he had war wounds—still a few fading bruises, a thick scar on his shoulder, another along his back, something he’d gotten in basic training, apparently—but he was a solid, muscled package of get it done. Truth was, she probably had nothing to worry about tonight.

Colt knew how to handle himself.

Really.

So she could probably unwind her arms, unleash her breath, and let go of the knot in her chest.

Except what about—

Nope. He’d said it—multiple times. He was fine. Just. Fine.

Still, “They’re going to be okay, right?”