Chapter 8

“Should I worry about the axe?”Grant was eyeing it on the wall of my lay-down.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

I sat down on my bunk. “You mentioned something about fantasies.”

“Did I? Didn’t mean to. Perhaps it was just the stress of the moment.”

“You just keep thinking that, Grant. That’s what you’re good at.”

“What?”

“Thinking.”

“Oh.”

“Sometimes it’s better to stop thinking.”

He sat down next to me, not quite rubbing shoulders. “You think so?”

“God damn it, Grant. I should have invited Vanya in here instead of you.”

“I hear that she has the hots for the commander.”

That was news I’d missed. I’d been too busy being pleased that the rest of my squad had made it out.

“And it seems the commander has a weak spot for smart Russian blondes.”

That was a surprise. “What about you?”

“Me?” Grant looked all innocent.

“I seem to recall you saying something about not going officer because you wanted to be close to me. Why are you choking over the last half meter?”

“I’m still worried about that axe.”

“You’re a Royal Delta Marine now, you don’t need to be.”

“You know what, Isla?”

“What?”

“Maybe they’ll forget about us again. Just leave the two of us here.”

“Why would we want that?”

“Well,” Grant took the axe and set it on the far side of my lay-down. “I plan on taking a while proving that you don’t need this.”

Now that was a pure quality idea.