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This whole crazy game had to stop.
If he didn’t respond, neither would Genna.
And they could both get back to living their lives.
He didn’t fool himself into thinking he’d forget about the letters over time. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the taste of her that night in the garage. He could still hear her soft cries of pleasure and see the rosy flush on her skin. Ten years hadn’t dimmed that memory.
So, no. The images weren’t going anywhere.
But the game was.
Brody finished dressing on autopilot, his brain ricocheting between the plan for the coming mission and every contingency. Their strategy was solid, they’d be solid.
“Lane. Heads up. The helo is ready to fly.”
Brody nodded. All suited up now, so was he.
Time to rock and roll.
Habit had him glancing around before shutting the locker, making sure he’d left no traces of anything personal. Nothing was left out except the letter. Brody grabbed it, ready to tuck it away with his few personal effects. But it was like Genna’s loopy handwriting was curled around his fingers, not letting go.
Damn. Brody felt like a fool.
He looked to the left, then to the right to make sure he was alone. He grimaced at his behavior, then pulled the letter from the envelope to read it one more time.
4
TIME TO ROCK AND ROLL. Brody, along with the rest of the team, loaded onto the Chinook helicopter. They didn’t have to go over the mission. It was etched in their minds, every aspect of it not only committed to memory, but muscle memory. They were machines, ready to engage.
He eyed the extra guy in the bird, separate from the team. Watching. He didn’t acknowledge them and as far as the team was concerned, he was just cargo.
Government cargo.
All SEAL missions were covert. Top secret was the name of the game, whether it was a direct action, recon or rescue.
Which usually meant no audience.
He puffed out a gust of air, then strapped himself in as the bird started liftoff. This wasn’t his first rescue mission by far. But he figured it would be the first time he’d ever have the opportunity to meet the Cin C’s right hand. He looked toward the passenger one more time, then dismissed him.
Tee minus five.
While the blades of the helo whirled their deafening hum, everybody went into prep mode.
The usual banter flew through the team as they did one last equipment check.
And then they went silent.
Brody had never worried about clearing his head before a mission. In the ten years he’d served in the navy, he’d learned a few things. Focus. Discipline. And confidence. Not the cocky bravado he’d perfected as a teen. But the absolute assurance that he was damned good at what he did and didn’t have a thing to prove to anyone.
He was a finely honed weapon, trained with the necessary skills to carry out this rescue mission. He didn’t have a single doubt that he’d do his job, and do it well. Because he had nothing, nobody, in the world that meant a damned thing to him except his team. His platoon. His duty.
He glanced around the belly of the plane. Cormack had his head tilted back, eyes closed as he muttered Buddhist chants. Masters looked fierce, as if he was going over the plan one more time in his head. But Brody knew he wasn’t. The plan was imprinted; they didn’t need to review it. Nope, the guy was mentally reciting The Iliad.
Brody usually thought about nothing at this point.
This time, just before he flipped the switch and became a military machine, the image of Genna Reilly filled his head. Her smile warming his belly, the wicked delight in her eyes reminding him of his past.
Was she still as bright as the sun, drawing people to her like a spotlight? Did her laugh gurgle the way it had when she was younger, deep and husky? And just how would she look in that little blue nightie she kept writing to him about? Or more to the point, how would she look out of it?
Was she still as sexy? Her hair a heavy curtain of long black silk, like in his fantasies? Did she make those same noises when she came? Or was sex just a way to pass time for her now? Like it was for him.
It was her smile that became his focal point as he let all thoughts fall away. He shifted his shoulders, shrugging off everything but the mission.
“It’s time,” Landon said. His words were low and calm. His expression contained. He scanned the team, gave a nod. “Let’s kick ass.”
* * *
GENNA WAS GOING crazy with boredom.
It was like there was a switch in her head that enabled her to get through the same old boring job, blah life, day in-and-day-out monotonous yawn-fest of good behavior. And that switch had flipped off.
She knew she should find a way to flip it back on.
But she didn’t want to.
If she did, she’d have to go back to making other people happy. Which still included Mr. Perfect, the troll collector, and all the pressures to go out with him on a second date.
The guy was boring.
Especially when compared with other people who needed to remain nameless, even in her own mind. People who wrote letters that made her melt before she’d even opened the envelope. People who were out living their lives, making a difference. People who, even though they didn’t even sign their name to their letters, made her want so much.
Wish that things had turned out differently.
Lunchtime chatter faded into a buzz as Genna contemplated what her life might be like if she’d never taken that dare ten years ago. Or better yet, if her father hadn’t ruined the best night of her life. If she’d rebelled instead of trying to soothe her miserable parents, and had done all the things she’d hoped to.
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