CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“Pony! Drop it. Drop it!”
Veronica knelt down next to the puppy, trying to wrestle her favorite boot out of the dog’s mouth. It was the morning after her conversation with Isabella, and Veronica’s suitcase was open across the bed, half packed with clothes. The hard-shell case of her snub-nosed .38 Special was just visible from under a folded pair of jeans.
Pony gave a little grunt of exertion, her hindquarters waving back and forth with excitement as she tugged on the boot. Veronica sighed and stopped pulling. The struggle was just getting tooth marks all over the leather. She rested her chin on her hand and looked the dog in the eye. “Why don’t you go chew up Daddy’s things? He has a bomber jacket just begging for some puncture marks.”
“I heard that.” Logan’s voice came from the hallway. She straightened up as he poked his head in the door. His cheeks were pink, his hair streaked from the sun. He leaned against the door frame and smiled.
“You’re home. I didn’t hear the door.” She stood up and went to kiss him on the cheek.
“It’s my advanced military training,” he said. He wove back and forth in a shadow-boxing stance. “They teach you to move like a panther.”
“Oh yeah? Is there a lot of call for stealth in the cockpit of a fifty-million-dollar fighter jet?”
“The SEALs aren’t the only ones with moves.” He leaned down to pet Pony, who licked his chin. “How’re my girls?”
“Well, one of us peed in your shoe. And the other barked all morning,” she said. “How was the trip? Were there some gnarly waves?”
“There were indeed.” He noticed the suitcase and frowned. “What’s up? You going somewhere?”
“Just for one night. I have to fly out to Vegas for a case. But I should be back Thursday afternoon, barring anything unforeseen.” She put her arms around his neck.
That was when she saw the manila folder he was holding. “What’s all that?”
“My paperwork. To get back on the Truman.” He opened the envelope and slid out a stack of papers. “I’m going to get it in the mail this afternoon.”
Without thinking, she let go of him. He raised his eyebrows at her, his smile turning both wry and wistful. “Okay. Let me have it. Again. Give me your best Columbia Law School try.”
“I’m out of ideas,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. “Unless you think a rendition of ‘Billy Don’t Be A Hero’ will work.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me. These guys we’re fighting, they don’t have anything that can take down a Hornet.”
“You do realize I just went to a military funeral, don’t you?” She stared up at him, her spine bristling with a sudden surge of anger. “And there are Wikipedia pages about every single aviation accident in naval history?”
His face darkened. “Come on, Veronica. I don’t do this to you. The stuff you do is at least as risky as what I do. I mean, you’re off to Vegas to do God knows what. You work crazy hours, you deal with dangerous people. I don’t like it, but I’ve learned to accept that it’s the price of admission.”
Her cheeks flushed. “How long have you been holding on to that argument?”
“Well, it is the obvious one.”
She raised her hands. “Look, I’m not saying you don’t have the right to do exactly what you’ve made up your mind to do. I’m just saying, don’t act like it’s nothing. Don’t act like you have to do it. Don’t act like it’s just another day at work. It’s a big deal, Logan. You could be hurt. I could—” She suddenly came up short. She’d been about to say I could lose you; instead, she bit her tongue.
Veronica took a deep breath and glanced down at her watch.
“Look, I have to go, I can’t miss my flight. We can talk about this later.”
“Later, right.” Logan sighed.
She took him in, guilt forming in her chest as she realized how few laters they had left. But she had to find out what Isabella knew.
Just like he has to go back and join his squadron, she told herself. Because, for better or worse, that was the way they were both wired.