Page 6 of Her Unflinching Warrior (Omega Sky)
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Nah, just irritating. If one of my guys clamps in a Rem cartridge instead of five-five-six, then I’ll owe you a beer. They’ll just be pissed as hell, and once more they’ll be gunning for me. It’ll be funnier than hell.” Gideon clamped his jaw shut. Was that a giggle that was close to coming out? What the fuck?!
Giggling? Am I a girl? First, there was primping, now giggling?!
“I like it, Smith. When are you going to head out to Kentucky?” Clark asked.
“There’ll be eleven of us. Landon Kelly is on leave caring for his grandmother in Alabama, Sebastian is—”
“On baby watch. Yeah, got it. Is his wife okay?”
“She’s on bedrest for the rest of her pregnancy, so he’s out for the duration,” Gideon answered.
“They have another infant, right?”
“Yeah.” Gideon pictured his namesake. “He’s seven months old. Sebastian has his hands full. Neither of them has relatives that can help out.”
“Got it. So that’s twelve, who else is gone?”
“Ryker McQueen is off for a week. He’s available if we need him, but I don’t want to pull him in for just a training exercise.”
“Got it. This sounds like fun. I think I’ll come with you.”
Gideon sat up straight. He couldn’t remember the last time Commander Clark had been out in the field, let alone on a training exercise.
“That’s great, Commander. I’ll let you know when I have the flight lined up. I expect we’ll be wheels up tomorrow.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
The man hung up.
Lucy wandered into Gideon’s office and woofed.
“I know, Girl. Pretty weird shit, isn’t it?”
* * *
“This is a total bust,”Ryker said over the phone.
Gideon held back a laugh. “So Amy isn’t giving you the time of day?” he surmised.
“It’s worse than that. As soon as I showed up at the restaurant, she stopped working the front of the restaurant and hid out in the kitchen.”
“I told you that you needed to give her a heads up that you were coming to D.C. for a visit.”
“I wanted to surprise her. Dammit, Gideon, we had a great time together, our chemistry was off the charts, she should have expected it,” Ryker defended himself.
“You met Amy Linden when?” Gideon prompted carefully.
“Uhhm, three months ago?” Ryker answered. In his mind’s eye, Gideon could see Ryker squeezing his bicep where he had his tattoo.
“And in those three months, how many times have you talked to Amy?”
“Maybe four times?”
“Maybe?”
“Okay, three times,” Ryker admitted. “But they were long conversations,” he argued. “Over a half hour each.”
