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Sam walk inside and eyed Bridget. “How are you holding up?”
“Not great,” she admitted. “I can’t figure out why I’m so weak.”
“Your body is using every bit of energy to heal your injuries. How is your head?”
“Threatening to explode.”
“I can fix that.” She disappeared for a minute, then returned with a packet in her hand along with a bottle of water. “Two capsules and a nap are my prescription for good health on this leg of your journey.”
“Thanks, Sam.”
“Sure. Trace, come get me if anything changes.”
He gave her a salute.
Less than a minute later, the jet powered up.
Bridget patted the empty side of the bed beside her. “Climb on. You shouldn’t stand when the plane is taking off.”
“You’re in a lot of pain, Bridget. I don’t want to make it worse.”
“You won’t. Come on.”
Although he was skeptical, Trace figured he could always get up if her pain level increased. He circled the bed and eased onto the flat surface beside her. He leaned back against the wall as the jet raced down the runway. “Comfortable?” he murmured.
She nodded. “Thank you, Trace.”
“For what?”
“Taking care of me.” Her head turned toward his. “I wouldn’t be alive if not for you and your friends.”
“I told you. No thanks needed.” As he stared deep into her eyes, Trace realized they were a gorgeous blue. How had he missed that earlier?
“Still, I appreciate what you did.”
“Noted.” He tapped the packet. “Take your meds and let go for a while. I’ll let you know if we learn anything new.”
She popped the pills into her mouth and washed them down with a few sips of water. Once he took the bottle from her, Bridget closed her eyes. Within five minutes, she was sound asleep.
Trace considered whether or not he should return to the main cabin. He glanced at Bridget, reluctant to leave her. The jet could hit turbulence or Bridget might need assistance to the bathroom.
And he was pathetic. Trace sighed. For a man who didn’t think it was possible for a sniper to get involved in a relationship with a woman, he acted like a man interested in one.
His gaze dropped to her mouth. He didn’t know about a relationship, but he’d love to kiss her pink lips. He dragged a hand down his face. Good grief. He must be more tired than he realized if he was longing for a kiss from a woman he barely knew. Trace leaned his head back against the wall and let himself drift into a light sleep.
Sometime later, he woke when a brush of fabric against the wall indicated someone was approaching the bedroom. Despite knowing the only people on this jet were his teammates, his hand slid toward his Sig in automatic reflex.
Sam peered inside. “How is she?” she whispered.
Trace glanced at Bridget. Somehow during the last hour, she’d shifted to lean her head against his shoulder. Her breathing was quiet and deep, her body utterly relaxed. Excellent.
He used a hand signal to tell the medic everything was fine.
“Let me know if that changes.” She returned to the main part of the cabin.
Hours later, Bridget stirred, bringing Trace fully awake. She opened her eyes and froze. “Trace?”
“How do you feel?”
