Nikki would make a great teacher, with her love of children—an open, honest woman. Wind and light swept the metal tunnel. The urge to lock that door and find new uses for the weight bench throbbed through him. One angry teen was a helluva lot easier to deal with than original concerns about a gang. She fidgeted along the bench seat, anxious to finish up the drive, get back to work, even for an hour or two.
He yanked the crash ax off the wall. Two seats waited behind the pilot and copilot. Returning home… From the comfort of his porch, J. That fast, it was over. Who would have thought silence could be so loud? His eyes gravitated to his tome of Shakespeare's plays, currently tucked sideways between his ratchet set and buzz saw. Haugen's head smacked tile, lolled to the side. In this book, I would want to read some of the other books in the series to fully understand what the hero's gone through which impacts on the story.
Her hand fell away from the glass. Or had he seen J. Then the family will relocate me. Still, the equipment on that pallet made for a serious time bomb if they didn't offload it before reaching land. Yeah, that sure would make a dignified image, a forty-year-old woman cowering under her bedroom quilt. Sat beside her on the sofa, shared popcorn, watched chick flicks with her, brought tissues when she cried over the endings because her own life sucked so bad.
The betraying twitch from Bo, just seconds before— ah hell, don't do it, kid—the young copilot looked up. Adrenaline still surged through him, but aftermath stripped away the numbness of battle focus. Taken him back once he returned from Rubistan and whatever horrors he'd endured after being captured. Sometimes it's the right person at the right time and you do all the wrong things because you're a dumb ass. There's the question of what's going on with Chris. He's looking forward to your weekend together. Except I can't help but wonder what's up with this friend Miranda or whoever she is.
He'd already caused her enough grief over the years, and now to end it this way. Flipped her long hair over her shoulder. I'm lucky now to be doing something I enjoy. Then his wife, Rena, dropped a bomb of her own: she was pregnant. Rena Price resisted the urge to duck and run upstairs to keep from answering. And all because she was scared spitless she wouldn't be able to resist jumping the man standing on the other side of her oak door.
The wash of warning lights blazing across his control panel told him otherwise. She wasn't showing much, but nearing the fourth month, there was no question. Chris backed until his butt bumped the counter. As he destroyed data, J. But he loved that girl anyway. Possible ex library copy, thatâll have the markings and stickers associated from the library. .
They'd sure as hell tried for years until she'd booted him out six months ago. Good men don't leave their women behind. She sidled outside with the company of passing cars, safer than inside alone, and commandeered a spot by a potted topiary reaching shoulder high. It had taken them nearly four months, but finally, they'd completed their mission. Took a rifle butt to the shoulder. Used to be you begged off every picnic that you could.
The hero still loves his entire family with his whole heart; however, the mission he was on robbed him of his confidence in everything and he believes if that's what he has to give the heroine then that's what he'll give her. At least he'd gotten one thing right during the talk with Chris. Seeing him so hot and hunky in his flight suit didn't help. Just expressing interest in your world. With the joint forces of Rena's indomitable will and his determination, they could accomplish anything—even rebuild a marriage made to last a lifetime. And now that Bo's here, maybe he can help Mr. She got that much out without stuttering or panting over his hard-muscled body in a flight suit.
Joint Forces Wingmen Warriors, 7 by Catherine Mann - Bookchor Then sudden danger loomed. Rena lowered her hands back to her plate. Chris swiveled away to adjust the weights, decreasing to one-twenty for his go-round on the bench. If they were taken, at least rescue troops would have some point of reference and tracks to follow. Not much older than his two kids, for God's sake. Bo, the copilot, sat directly in front of J. Once he thanked Bo for a debt he could never repay.
His son had asked a man's question and deserved a man's answer. But the cost was so much higher than she'd expected. He jerked the ax free of the cracked metal, swung again. Muscles knotted, strained, until… The pallet gave way, hooked, caught, lumbered down the tracks lining the belly of the plane, rattling, rolling, tipping. Damn, but her laughter sounded good. She got that much out without stuttering or panting over his hard-muscled body in a flight suit.