Oh, he’d better not be planning on doing something . . . crazy. Like join up with her father. The thought burrowed into her chest as she walked into the shadowed hangar.

In her worst nightmares, she’d lose him. No, both of them. Ranger and her father.

And this time it would be for good.

Dodge had spent the past two days disposing of his burned plane, and Ranger had helped him clean the hangar all while waiting to hear from Colt, who had taken off two days ago in search of Tae.

Now there was a woman dogged by demons. Even when Noemi had bunked with her down at the guest cabin, Tae had fought her way through the night. Noemi didn’t know what had passed between Tae and Colt, but the fact that he’d taken off, chasing her down to the Lower 48, felt very much like something a Kingston brother would do.

They just didn’t know how to quit.

Which was why she wasn’t surprised to see Ranger at a pull-up bar in a workout area that he and Dodge had clearly built over the past forty-eight hours. A weight set, a mirror, a bench. They had crafted their own version of Gold’s Gym.

Now, Ranger hung from the bar, his legs crossed, grunting as he worked his upper body.

He’d taken off his jacket and T-shirt and thrown them on the bench.

Oh. My. Goodness. Now this was worth trekking down to the hangar.

Her man had form. Barely an inch of fat on his entire body. The way he hung from the bar, his muscles taut, showed off every delicious ripple in his back, his shoulders, those amazing sinewy arms.

Mm-hmm. And she didn’t harbor a millisecond of guilt for freely admiring him. After all, that was the privilege of being his wife.

Yes, she was a rabid fan of workouts.

He dropped to the ground, breathing hard, not seeing her apparently, because he walked over to the weight set, and from the AirPods she spotted, he didn’t hear her either.

Picking up two weights, he stepped back, then did a slow lunge, his back to her. Deliberate. His jaw set.

As if he were thinking about something in particular.

She walked over to the bench and sat down. The hangar collected the cool morning air, despite the sunlight that streamed in through a window.

For a guy who had recently been beat up, Ranger had bounced back well. Fast.

As if pushing through to gear up for something.

The thought wound a fist into her stomach.

He finished his lunges, then bent and did some rows, his back muscles clenching. Sweat dripped down his spine.

She, however, shivered.

He finished the rows, put the weights back, and then turned, sitting on the mat, as if getting ready for sit-ups.

His jacket lay on the bench, and she reached for it.