Jackson, who’d been dragging his teammate through the cold water, released him with regret. The waves instantly bobbed around the blond man, whose expression conveyed sheer annoyance illuminated in the moonlight.
A speedboat carrying Team Eight’s CO swiftly cut through the water and slowed down beside them to haul Dylan on board.
Jackson kept going, his arms aching as he swam fast and hard, several yards behind Matt and Seth. It was a three-mile swim in the dark ocean, which sucked ass considering his arms had been tied behind his back for the last several hours. And the saltwater stung his scraped-up wrists, which just pissed him off.
By the time he and his teammates reached the rendezvous—a low-lying black Zodiac that had been dropped from the chopper earlier—he was thoroughly exhausted. But at least he was alive. He and Seth exchanged grins as the raft sliced through the waves and the wind slapped their wet faces, and then Seth glanced over at Matt with a nod.
“Damn good job,” he shouted over the wind.
“Not good enough,” Matt shouted back. “We lost a man.”
Seth waved a hand. “Ah, it was just Dylan. Nobody’s gonna miss him.”
But when they reached the base a short while later, the deep scowl on their CO’s face told them he agreed with Matt on this one.
“How the fuck did we lose Wade?” Becker demanded as they hopped out of the Zodiac.
The rest of the team was gathered nearby, including Dylan, who seemed to be taking a lot of heckling from the other men about his grisly end.
Matt sighed. “Lancelot is damn quick on the trigger. We couldn’t have done anything differently.”
“We’ll see about that,” Becker muttered. “Unload your gear. Debrief in ten minutes.”
As the CO stalked off, Jackson ran a hand over his wet hair and let out a weary breath. He was so dang tired he was ready to crash, but he had plans with Mia tonight and he refused to miss out on the chance of seeing her. He’d definitely have to chug a cup of coffee or two before he left the base.
“I can’t believe I died.” Dylan sidled up beside Jackson on the way into the building. “You suck as a medic, Texas. You fucking suck.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not God, man. Here’s a tip for next time—don’t get shot in your femoral artery.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Dylan’s strides were scarily energetic as the two men strode down the hall. “Wanna go out for a beer?” he asked with a hopeful look. “I already asked everyone else but they all pled exhaustion, even the supposed party dudes on Team Eight.”
Jackson stared at his teammate. “How the heck are you not exhausted? I’m frickin’ beat.”
“It’s all the sex I’m not having,” Dylan said gloomily. “Has me wired.”
“Sorry, but I can’t. Mia’s coming over around eleven to hang out.”
“Why so late?”
“She had to go to Chula Vista for her brother’s game, so she won’t be back ’til later.”
“It’s only nine,” Dylan pointed out. “Plenty of time for us to chill and still get you home before Mia shows up.”
Jackson hesitated.
“C’mon, don’t make me go back to my empty condo yet.” Dylan gave a mock pout. “Have some pity, bro.”
After a beat, he surrendered with a tired chuckle. “Fine. I’ll go out for a beer with you.”
Mia couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a wonderful, stress-free day. She’d spent her morning at the nursery picking up plants for the waterfront park project, her afternoon working out in the sun, and her evening in Chula Vista for Danny’s first away game of the season. She’d watched Danny lead his team to another victory, crushing their opponent and officially putting the Warriors on a three-game winning streak. To top it all off, her boss had phoned during halftime to say she wanted to meet on Monday regarding the possibility of Mia taking over the San Diego branch of Color Your Yard.
And now she was on her way to Jackson’s house, about to finish off her day with some no-doubt incredible sex.
Go, me!
She was smiling like a goofball during the entire drive to Imperial Beach, unable to remember the last time she’d felt this content. The only downside was that she couldn’t stay at Jackson’s for too long because she was working at the sandwich shop tomorrow morning, but not even the thought of waking up early could put a damper on her high spirits.
In fact, she doubted anything could spoil her good mood—or at least that’s what she thought before her cell phone buzzed.
When she read Jackson’s text informing her that Dylan would be hanging out with them tonight, a burst of disappointment went off in her chest.
So much for incredible sex.