When he pulled away, she felt light-headed and off-balance.
Yep, totally swooning.
She licked her lips and tried to catch her breath. “Wow. Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”
He chuckled softly and kissed the tip of her nose. “Good night, Kate.”
“Good night, Chris.”
Chapter Nine
Mad Dog
Mad Dog shifted in the seat in an attempt to alleviate some of the discomfort he felt down below. He also put the window down, hoping the frigid air would have the same effect as a cold shower. The woman had no idea what she did to him or how hard it had been for him to walk away—hard being the operative word.
He only knew that if he had taken her up on her offer, it would have elevated things to a whole new level, and he wasn’t sure she was ready for that. Hell, he wasn’t sure he was ready for that.
He hadn’t been lying when he told her why he’d gotten his call name, though he didn’t think she truly understood. Most of the time, he was a pretty chill guy. But when something he cared about was threatened, a switch flipped inside him, and he turned into the rabid animal the nickname suggested. He became of sole mind and purpose, and everything else was secondary until his objective was achieved.
That might work well on the teams but not so much in the civilian world. Most people couldn’t handle that kind of intensity.
He sincerely hoped that Kate was one of those who could because he was already starting to feel pretty territorial where she was concerned. He needed to calm down, take a step back, and think about something besides her pretty eyes filled with desire, her soft lips, her luscious curves ...
Fuck.
When he got back to Sanctuary, he stopped by the main building to pick up the sketches he’d left there. His best chance of getting his mind off of Kate and the things he’d like to do to her was by losing himself in some designs.
He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
His plan was to get in and get out, but Sam was lying in wait for him.
“Well? How’d it go?” she called out as he walked past the decompression room where Sam, Sandy, Heff, and Smoke were playing some kind of card game.
In retrospect, he shouldn’t have told them about his date with Kate beforehand.
He could have kept walking but had a feeling Sam would come after him if he did. The shy, quiet woman Smoke had first brought to Sanctuary had turned into somewhat of a mother hen where they were concerned, and Sandy was fast becoming her partner in crime. While Mad Dog knew their interest came from a good place, he also wasn’t accustomed to sharing personal details.
He stopped in the doorway, aware of Heff’s and Smoke’s amused expressions. Well, Heff looked amused. Smoke looked empathetic. Good man, Smoke.
“It went fine,” he answered. Better than fine. She’s fucking amazing.
“And?”
“And nothing. It went fine.”
Heff smirked. Smoke’s empathy turned to sympathy.
“Where did you go?” Sandy asked.
“A place called Andy’s.”
Sam grinned widely. “She took you to Andy’s? She must really like you.”
“Isn’t that the place you took me?” Smoke asked Sam.
“Yep.”
“She can’t like him that much,” Heff quipped, making a show of looking at his watch. “It’s barely ten o’clock, and he’s here with us instead of sealing the deal.”
Mad Dog glared at him. “Not everyone is a man-whore like you. Sorry, Sandy. No offense.”
Instead of being offended, Sandy laughed. “None taken. I can’t really say much since his methods worked so well on me.”
Heff grinned. “That they did.”
Sam rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Mad Dog. “So, are you going to see her again?”
That would be a great, big fuck yes.
“Probably,” he answered. Then, he changed the subject and addressed Smoke, “Do you know if Church has had a chance to look over those draft revisions for the new greenhouse design yet?”
Sam’s lips turned down at the corners. She opened her mouth to say something more, but Smoke had his six.
“Yeah, they’re in the war room.”
“Thanks.”
He left before any further interrogation could ensue, but inside, he was secretly pleased with Sam’s comment about Andy’s.
Cage and Doc were there when he walked in, checking out something on Cage’s laptop screen. They acknowledged his presence with looks and nods, which he returned.
That’s the way it should be, he thought. No cross-examination, no questions about his date with Kate.
He grabbed the designs from the table, rolled them up, then put them into one of the carrying tubes to take back to his trailer. As he was on his way out, the image on Cage’s screen caught his attention. It looked like a series of maps superimposed over one another. He’d seen similar layouts before, usually before heading out on a mission where knowing the lay of the land was imperative.
“What’s that?”
Cage grinned. “We’re testing some new software. This takes high-res satellite photos and combines it with a groundwater atlas of local aquifers, a sketch of underground railroad routes, and local mine company surveys.”
Mad Dog set his designs aside, instantly intrigued. One of his special skills was creating safe spaces and hidey-holes in practically any environment, so the thought of an underground network was absolutely fascinating. He peered closer, recognizing the site they had up. “That’s Sanctuary.”
“It is,” Church confirmed, joining them. “The hills and mountains around here are filled with forgotten caves, abandoned mines, and defunct quarries—not to mention, tunnels once used by prohibitionists, the Underground Railroad, and more recently, bomb shelters put in during the Cuban Missile Crisis.”
He whistled, excited by the possibilities. That kind of knowledge was a huge tactical advantage. Escape routes, safe rooms, storage—the possibilities were endless ... and worrisome in the wrong hands. “Who else knows about this?”
“Anyone local would be aware of the stories, but I doubt many have actual firsthand knowledge. The mines closed years ago. Most of the tunnels that didn’t collapse on their own were sealed off.”
Mad Dog knew Church well enough to hear the subtle edge in his otherwise casual tone. “Anyone local” included those who had a beef with Sanctuary. And “most of the tunnels” was not the same thing as all.
“How many are still viable?”
Church shrugged. “That’s what we’re trying to find out. If there are serviceable underground passageways in and around Sanctuary, we need to know about it.”
“Count me in.”
“Yeah, thought you’d say that.”
Mad Dog waved toward the screen. “So, what brought this on anyway?”
“A hunch,” Cage said, shrugging his shoulders.
Common sense suggested it was more than a hunch, but then again, maybe not. Cage loved playing around with his programs and had been in his glory since he discovered a kindred soul in Ian Callaghan.
“An educated guess based on Petraski’s recent purchases,” Doc supplied. “A shit-ton of six-by-sixes and aluminum shoring beams, for example.”