I lower her to her feet, make sure she’s steady, then quickly clean up and leave her in the shower so I can hurry up and get out of here.

“Did I make you late?” she asks.

“No, I’ll make the flight.”

“I’ll drive you to the airport.”

Leaving her is hard enough. I hate it. But watching her drive away at the airport would be pure torture.

“I’d rather you didn’t drive to the airport during rush hour,” I reply, and smile when she steps out of the shower, looking all damp and flushed, and well fucked. “And this way, my car will be waiting for me when I get home.”

“Okay.” She puckers up and turns her lips up to me. “Kiss me before you go.”

“Happily.” I grip her shoulders and lift her to her tiptoes so I can kiss her senseless. “How was that?”

“That was good.” Her eyes are glassy. “Really good.”

“I’ll give you plenty more of those when I get home. Be good.”

“You be good.”

I grin. “I’m always good, baby.”

I’VE BEEN IN San Diego for twenty-four hours and I already miss Cami so much it hurts. Jesus, I’ve become a heartsick moron.

And you know what? I don’t give a fuck.

After a long, intense meeting this morning, I’m ready for a break and a call home. I dial Cami’s cell and frown when she doesn’t answer.

That’s not like her.

I try her home line and she answers on the fourth ring, sounding sleepy.

“Did I wake you up?” I glance at my phone, frowning when I see that it’s one in the afternoon.

“Yeah, I was taking a nap.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I was just calling to hear your voice.”

“How’s it going down there?”

“Not bad. There’s a lot of information to absorb, and the meetings are long, but it’s great to be around these guys again. It feels really good.”

“That’s good.”

She’s saying the right words, but her voice is flat and she sounds . . . wrong.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry.” She sighs. “I’m actually not feeling great today. I’m nauseous and a little crampy, which my doctor assures me is normal for this stage, and I must have slept on my shoulder weird because it’s killing me. That’s when I slept, because I don’t sleep well without you.”

“I know. I’m so sorry that you’re not feeling well, sweetheart. I hate that I’m not there to take care of you.”

“Well, you’re not. And I don’t mean that as snarky as it sounds. I’m just bitchy.”

“I get bitchy when I don’t feel good too; trust me.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find that out firsthand eventually,” she says, sounding a bit like herself. “I’ll wear a sexy nurse outfit to help you feel better.”

“That sounds like a great deal to me.”

Ringo sticks his head out of the conference room door, indicating they’re ready to get back to work.

“Baby, I have to go. I’m sorry. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“I know.” She yawns. “Love you.”

I hang up, feeling guilty as fuck for not being at home with her. I don’t like that she’s having cramps. Even if her doctor says it’s normal, it doesn’t sound good at all. I send Mia a quick text and ask her to look in on Cami for me, then turn my ringer off and return to the meeting.

“Everything okay?” Ringo asks.

“I think so,” I reply, and sit across from him. “How much more do we have to discuss?”

“We should be able to wrap things up here in a few hours, and you can be on a flight home this evening.”

“That would be great.” I nod and open my laptop. “Cami’s not feeling great.”

“Civilian life sure is different, isn’t it?”

“Man, that’s the truth.” I nod and look over at my old friend and former wingman. “Priorities change so much. Two years ago, all I could think about was getting in the air and maybe getting laid once in a while.”

“And now you just want to stay home and be with your girl,” Ringo says with a grin. He mindlessly fiddles with the ring on his left hand. “I understand. I loved the Navy. I loved the travel and the rush of the flying, the thrill of it all. But then I met Suzanne, and the thrill changed.”

“Exactly.” It occurs to me that I haven’t picked my ring up from the jeweler yet and mentally put it on my calendar for this week. It seems there’s a lot to do before we get married in less than a week, but I can’t wait. “I was so pissed after the wreck,” I say quietly. “I didn’t want my flying career to end. Not like that.”

“Like I said before, you got a shitty deal.”

“I didn’t even really want to come home. I felt so lost when I was still in the hospital and they told me that I couldn’t fly anymore. But there was nothing else to do. So I came home, and worked with my dad. I’m thankful that he gave me the work, but it didn’t drive me. It was Cami that really healed me. I may have been fine physically when I first got home, but she’s the one that helped me get my head on straight.”

“Well, let’s wrap this up so we can get you home to her.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

We dig in for several hours, going over potential employees, looking through résumés, and deciding who I’ll call in for interviews next week when Linda, Ringo’s assistant, pokes her head in the door.