Free Running Fire by Lindsay McKenna

pocket. “Here you go,” he said, handing it to her. Wanting to sit and watch her, he forced himself to move away from Leah. Watching her was a sensual pleasure all its own in his world. He emptied the water into a channel leaving the pool and hung the wet towel and washcloth in the other cave on some rocks to dry. When he ambled back in, he smiled. Leah had finished combing her hair. The ends were damp and slightly curled across her shoulders.
    â€œNow, don’t you feel better?”
    Handing him the comb, Leah admitted softly, “I feel a million times better. Thanks so much, Kell.” And she wished she could do something to repay him for his generosity. She watched as he sat down against the wall after moving his sleeping bag over to it.
    â€œMy grandma, who had bad arthritis in her hands, would always bake me chocolate-chip cookies as a thank-you for washing her hair weekly.” Kell smiled fondly, remembering those good times.
    â€œI’m afraid I’m a nonstarter in a kitchen,” Leah admitted.
    â€œTell you what. Next time we happen to both be at Bravo, you can buy me a beer over at the canteen. Fair enough?” He caught her gaze. She looked infinitely better. The tension was gone. So was the terror. Instead, Kell saw her green eyes radiant with warmth. Was that warmth for him? He could feel it, but didn’t try to interpret what it meant. That would get him into dangerous quicksand real fast.
    â€œThat’s a deal,” Leah promised, her voice passionate. “I need to thank you for everything you’re doing for me, Kell. I really appreciate it.”
    â€œNo need to pay me back,” he murmured. “My ma always taught me you treat others like you would like to be treated. It’s been the rule I’ve lived my life by.”
    â€œTell me about yourself. You said your parents moved from Alabama to Kentucky. How did you become a SEAL?”
    â€œThe short version,” he said, pushing his long legs out in front of him. “My pa, who is a dairy farmer, was in the Army for four years. He thought it was good I do my duty to my country, so I joined the Navy. I’d heard about the SEALs and applied. I got in, managed to survive BUD/S, and here I am.”
    â€œYou didn’t want to be a farmer?”
    â€œNo. I’m a rolling stone.” Kell chuckled. “I liked being outdoors, I liked challenges and I was a pretty active kid. I liked what the SEALs offered me. I believed I could make a difference in the world, take out the bad guys so the good men and women could live.”
    â€œYou don’t strike me as being black-and-white,” Leah murmured. “You’re a good observer of the human condition. That encompasses a lot of gray areas.”
    Shrugging, Kell said, “I’m aware of the gray areas. But when it comes to a bad guy who’s going to kill one of my brothers, or anyone on our side who is fighting over here, I’m very clear about pulling the trigger. I don’t enjoy it, but I know someone has to do it. Does that make more sense?” Ballard absorbed her thoughtful expression. Shadow pilots were aggressive in combat, too. They didn’t just drop black ops men off from a helo. They were often in direct combat protecting men on the ground, too.
    â€œMakes sense to me,” Leah agreed. She moved her fingers through her clean hair. It felt like she’d lost a pound of dried blood, sweat and dirt out of the strands. “I have a tough time seeing you in the role of a hunter-sniper.”
    â€œOh, you met the nice side of me is all,” he said, chuckling. “I’m not out there offering to wash a Taliban soldier’s hair, believe me.”
    Leah laughed with him. “Point taken.”
    â€œYou have any brothers or sisters?” Kell asked. Instantly, he saw he’d just stepped on another land mine with her.
Damn.
If she’d had a miserable marriage, which is what he