What, could the guy read his mind?

He picked up his drink. “I can’t follow my gut on this one, Ham. Thanks for the offer, but no.” The water soothed his burning throat.

“I get it,” Ham said. “I have a wife and a daughter too. But I also know who I am.”

Ranger looked at him. “I guess I’m still trying to figure that out.”

“I hope you saved me some chips.” Noemi’s voice fell over his shoulder. She swung a leg over the seat and slid in next to him. “I’m starving.”

He pushed the basket to her. He’d lost his appetite anyway.

FOURTEEN

Just calm down. It wasn’t forever, but it was a beautiful day.

A date. With Colt. And that’s all.

Tae wasn’t going to get too far ahead of herself.

Ever since kneeling with Ham in the chapel six days ago, something had shifted inside Tae. She wasn’t all the way to let it go, let it go, but she had shades of trying to let go. Trying to not need an order and a plan and a look too far ahead. Like today, agreeing to hanging out at an air show, enjoying herself with Colt while a terrorist was on the lam.

“Here you go.” Colt passed a basket of fries to her as he sat down next to her.

Breathe.

Three days out of the hospital, six days from his near-death experience, and the man had bounced back, gotten some sun, and looked the picture of health.

Even if he moved slowly.

But yes, proving how resilient he was, swollen heart and all, Colt had transformed from wounded warrior to tourist, with his dark Oakleys on his head, his hair pulled back, not quite clean-shaven, but just enough scruff for him to look like he might be having a time-out from life. He wore a pair of cargo shorts, flip-flops, and a blue T-shirt that barely concealed the bandage he still wore on his puncture site. But the shirt somehow brought out the deep brown hues in his eyes as he’d come downstairs today, a string backpack over his shoulder, carrying an umbrella and sunscreen.

“Ready for fun?” He’d smiled at her, and it simply felt surreal.

Like she hadn’t just spent the last three months running—literally—from Russian gangsters.

But if they all wanted to escape into the Never-Never Land of pretend-the-world-isn’t-imploding, then she would too.

“I expect cotton candy,” she said. “It’s not a date without cotton candy.”

“I’ll remember that.” He had winked and slid on those glasses, and the Russians mostly dropped out of her brain.

Leaving only the feel of Colt’s hand in hers. Holding on.

They’d piled into the Escalade with Dodge, Ranger, Zoey, and Noemi.