She’d definitely wanted to find herself in Colt’s arms, to taste on him the night—and his strength and the way that, when he kissed her, her world felt at once both exciting and yet safe.

Because that was Colt.

In fact, he’d been the one to slow them down, pressing his forehead to hers. “I need a breath here, Flo.” And then he’d rolled over, pulling her with him to settle her into his arms as they watched the sun rise.

She’d fallen asleep right there, warm, despite her soiled clothing, and so very exhausted, and it wasn’t until Jethro came out and announced breakfast that she woke.

Colt had smiled at her, already awake, the sun in his eyes, and all she could hear was, “We have a lot of miles between now and then and . . . who’s to say what will happen?”

She knew exactly what was going to happen. Because the more she leaned in, the deeper the wound would be.

But he was still here, like he’d said—not going anywhere—leaning his head against the leather pillow on the luxury seats, his gaze on her, a half smile on his face as if trying to read her mind.

“What if you just . . . let the story unravel as it should?”

Well, thanks for that, Zoey.

“Where are we?” Colt asked now, his eyes darting to the window.

“Nearly to Florida, I think. We’re still pretty high, but according to the flight tracker, we should be setting down in Orlando in less than an hour. Do you know where we’re headed after we land?”

“Roy says they have a lab near Patrick Space Force Base. That’s about an hour east of Orlando.”

“On the ocean.” She looked out the window. “I’ve only been to Florida once. When I was seven, we went to Disney World.” She turned back to him. “It was amazing. My dad was just finishing his residency and he somehow got time off to take us. We did all the parks, and I even dressed up like one of the princesses for a day.”

His mouth quirked up. “Which princess?”

“Mulan.”

“I should have guessed that.”

“Why?”

“Because Mulan is clever. And brave. And isn’t afraid to do the hard things.”

She put her leg down. Shook her head. “That’s not me. I’m not a soldier like you are.”

“It’s totally you.” He sat up and took her hand. “Tae, take a good look at your life. Even before you survived a plane crash and a blizzard and an attack on your houseboat and—well, all the things—you dealt with deadly viruses on a daily basis. That alone is enough to keep anyone awake at night. And you act like it’s no big deal.”

“It’s . . . not, really. I train and take precautions and . . . I know what I’m doing.”