could have told him he’d done a good job,” Felicity said to Westley. “A little encouragement goes a long way.”
Westley cocked his head and studied her. “You don’t think I’m encouraging?”
She barely stifled a snort. “No. You tend to be direct with your criticism and withhold your praise. And frankly—” She lifted her chin. Time to stand up to him and say what she’d been holding in for months. “It bugs me. It would be nice if every once in a while you said ‘Well done. Good job. Way to go. You did good.’”
Westley raised an eyebrow. “If I’m not correcting you, you’re doing it right.”
The urge to roll her eyes was strong but she resisted and smiled sweetly. “Sometimes it’s helpful to hear some encouragement.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” he said in a tone that grated on her nerves.
Ethan’s laugh reminded her they weren’t alone. “You two sound like an old married couple.”
Felicity shot Ethan a glare. “Not even.”
“We’re moving from hungry to hangry,” Westley murmured.
She opened her mouth to ask him how he dared to say that, but then she realized he was correct. Her hunger was making her irritable. “You’re right.” She sighed. “Can we go now?”
“I’ll meet you there,” Ethan said and headed to his vehicle.
“Your chariot awaits,” Westley said with humor in his expression as he gestured to her car. Her insides turned to liquid and her heart did a little two-step in her chest.
The old adage Be Careful What You Wish For came to mind as he grinned at her. She’d wondered what it would be like to see him really smile when the force of a small grin was like taking a set of paws in the gut. How on earth was she going to survive spending so much time with him if he could make her knees weak with one grin?
Sated, Westley pushed his empty plate away. He’d enjoyed this respite except for the weight of the missing dogs pressing on his mind. The restaurant was noisy with conversation and music playing from speakers in the corner. A television attached to the wall showed a muted soccer game. Every time one of the two teams scored, the crowd cheered. Westley and Felicity sat side by side with their backs to the wall. He liked being able to see who was coming their way and to observe the crowd.
Plus, he wouldn’t deny he liked having Felicity within arm’s reach. In case of a threat, he told himself. Not because she was a beautiful woman. Which wasn’t the best path for his thoughts to wander down, especially after nearly telling her about his father.
That kind of slip wouldn’t be productive. The last thing he wanted was her pity.
Her anger he could take. She could chew him out all she wanted about not giving praise. He’d turned out just fine without receiving any.
Ethan Webb and Linc Colson occupied the other two seats at the table. Linc had arrived a few minutes after them. Apparently, Ethan had called him on his way to the eatery.
Westley couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat in a restaurant with those he considered friends. Most of his meals were frozen, microwavable dishes eaten in the training-center break room. This was a nice change. He only wished it hadn’t come at the cost of so many lives.
“I heard you mention you had leave coming up,” Felicity said to Ethan. “Any fun plans?”
“Nothing firm,” he replied. “After being overseas, it will be good to relax.”
Having never been deployed, Westley could only imagine Ethan’s need for some downtime.
A tall muscular man stopped by their table.
“Hey, Isaac,” Westley said, standing to shake the Senior Airman’s hand. “I’d heard you were back.”
Isaac Goddard was a former combat pilot recently returned from Afghanistan.
“Yes, it’s good to be home.” Isaac’s green eyes rested a moment on Felicity. “Hello.”
She smiled at him. “Hi. We haven’t met.” She held out a hand. “Felicity Monroe.”
The two shook hands and a strange sense of possessiveness spread through Westley. He wanted to put his arm around Felicity and claim her as his. Instead, he said, “You know Ethan and Linc?”
The other men rose to shake Isaac’s hand and clap him on the back.
“Welcome home,” Linc said.
“I heard you’re trying to bring home a dog from Afghanistan,” Ethan said.
Isaac nodded, his expression haunted. “That’s right. I filed the paperwork to have Beacon sent to me.”
Curious, Westley asked, “Is the dog injured?”
“No, he’s a hero.” Isaac rubbed his chin. “He saved my life.”
“What kind of dog is Beacon?” Felicity asked.
“A German shepherd. I really hope the brass will let me bring him to the States. I’m afraid of what will happen to him if he stays there.”
“We’ll pray you and Beacon are reunited,” Felicity said in a gentle tone.
Tenderness filled Westley at her thoughtful comment.
Isaac gave her an odd look. “Okay. Anything that helps. I’ll see you all around.” He walked away and they took their seats.
Felicity leaned close. “Uh-oh, here comes Heidi.”
Sure enough, the female base reporter weaved her way through the crowded tables, heading straight for them. “Incoming,” he said to the others.
Ethan and Linc swiveled to see who was approaching. Because they were in a casual setting, they dispensed with the formal salute.
As soon as Heidi reached the table, Linc held up a hand to the base reporter. “No comment.”
“I know, I know,” she said and adjusted her dark-framed glasses. “You all can’t talk about the Red Rose Killer. That’s not why I’m here.”
Westley wasn’t buying it. “Then why are you here?”
Heidi pointed to Felicity. “I understand you’re being reassigned to the photo lab.”
“Where did you hear that?” Westley asked. It wasn’t a secret, or at least it wouldn’t be once Felicity started roaming the base with her camera. But it was still disconcerting to know the information was out there already.
“I never reveal my sources,” she said. “Is it true?”
Felicity sighed.
