“Driving home?” Greg asked as they gave their orders to the server, who jotted them down without a word and left the same way. “We can drop you off if you want to grab another drink or two. I hear it’s a special ladies’ night out.”

“Of which it is no longer just ladies,” Kara said pointedly.

“Sorry,” Marianne said with a flushed smile. “I told him where we were and, well . . .” Brad nuzzled against her neck and whispered something in her ear, which made her smile grow and her flush deepen.

Greg snickered, Graham rolled his eyes, and Kara and Reagan chose to look at each other rather than the new lovebirds. Kara’s lips rolled in, as if trying to keep from smiling.

Of course they wanted to spend time with each other. If Reagan had a boyfriend as cute as Brad, she’d be with him, too.

Brad’s phone rang, and he reached into his pocket for it. Graham booed, and Greg threw a napkin. “We just got here, man. Put it away.”

“Could be important.”

“Could be his mom,” Graham said with a grin. “Tell her I said hi.”

“You know his mom?” Kara asked, surprised as she turned to Graham.

“No, but that’s not the point. It’s just a thing.” Graham started to say something else, then froze as he watched Brad’s face turn from jovial to grim. “Hold on, looks like we’ve got a problem. What’s up, man?”

“Jesus H.,” Brad muttered. “Someone slashed Tressler’s tires outside his barracks.” He stuffed the phone back in his pocket. “And according to him, his wasn’t the only one hit. Two of your guys got slashed too, Sweeney.”

“Any of mine?” Greg asked, standing beside Reagan.

“Didn’t say so, but who knows? Let’s head out there and see what’s up.” Brad went to the bar to grab their tabs.

“Looks like it’s back to ladies’ night,” Graham said with a shrug. “Sorry for busting in and running out again.” He bent down to give Marianne a kiss on the cheek, then waved to Reagan. For Kara, he tipped his head, then headed for his car.

“I’ll go pay my tab and be right there.” Reagan stood.

Greg grabbed her elbow, stopping her from moving. “There’s no need for you ladies to call it quits. Stay.”

“If it concerns the team, it concerns me. Maybe it’s nothing, but with everything else that’s gone on, I want to make sure of it.” She gave his grip a pointed look, and he released her. She took two steps, then turned back around. “Uh, where exactly are the barracks on base again?”

Marianne laughed. Kara groaned. Brad came back to give Marianne a quick kiss. “You can follow us, if you want,” he added to Reagan.

She bit her lip. “I just have to pay the tab and I’ll meet you outside.”

He nodded and followed Sweeney out.

She waited for Greg to go, but he didn’t. Instead, he followed her to the bar while she paid for her one drink and left a tip. Finally, when he stalked her out to the parking lot, she halted by her car door. It occurred to her then, as he pressed in close to her side, that she was almost an inch taller than him in her heels. “What? Why are you playing the creeper game?”

The corner of his lips twitched, but he gave her a serious look. “Know where you’re going?”

“I’m following you, I guess. Past that, I’m pretty much clueless.”

“Okay then.” He went to open her car for her as soon as she’d hit the unlock button, waited for her to slide in, then jogged around to the other side and got into the passenger seat.

“Uh, hi?” Reagan stared at him. “Going somewhere?”

“You don’t know where you’re going, it’s dark, and you could easily lose Brad driving Sweeney’s SUV. So I’ll just ride with you and make sure you get there okay.”

She glared at him a moment. “Purely out of the goodness of your own heart, huh?”

He held his hands up, a boyishly innocent face on. “Hey, I’m a civil servant, what can I say?”

Right. She twisted to put her purse in the back, recoiling a little when her breasts brushed against his biceps. Her car was small—read: affordable—and he was, well, he wasn’t the biggest guy but he was still an imposing male. Plus, her boobs were larger than the average woman’s, so this had all the hallmarks of a disaster.

“Just head for the main gate—you know where the main gate is, right?”

She shot him a look that warned him to lock down the idiotic comments ASAP.

Smart man that he was, he heeded the call. “Get to the main gate and then we’ll go from there. Shouldn’t take us more than ten minutes, fifteen if there’s weird traffic.”

“The back gate isn’t anywhere close to here, is it?” she asked as she pulled into reverse and backed out of the parking spot.

“Not even remotely.”

“So why is this bar called the Back Gate if we’re so close to the front gate?”

“Someone’s idea of a joke, I guess.”

“Some joke.”

“No kidding.”

*   *   *

GREG’S nerves were on high alert and had been since the second he’d ever-so-smoothly thumped Reagan’s back. That delightful move had earned him the Dumbass of the Night award. And the hits just kept on coming. But fate had thrown him a bone and given him a very good reason to get the luscious Reagan Robilard alone in her car.

“Just keep driving straight now,” he said as they pulled through the main gate and past the sentry.

“There’s nowhere to go but straight,” she pointed out.

“Could turn right here for the hospital.”

“I don’t want that,” she said, her voice tight.

“So keep driving straight.”

She growled a little, the sound so cute and feminine he wanted to lean over and kiss the tip of her nose. But he resisted. One stupid move a night was his limit . . . hopefully.

“Did you have a good night out?”

She smiled, which he couldn’t see so much as hear in her voice. “I was, until a few weirdos came and crashed all the fun.”

“Weirdos?” Ready to defend her honor, despite being too late, he sat up straighter. “Who? What’d they look like? Did they bother you?”

“That would have been you three,” she answered with a smug grin.

Oh. Right. He let his head thump back against the headrest. Damn. She had a wicked sense of humor on her. “How’s the job working out?”

“It’s far more action-oriented than I imagined, that’s for sure. I never thought I’d be driving out in the dark to inspect slashed tires, or figuring out who keeps vandalizing the gym. I feel like I stepped into a Nancy Drew book instead of my first real job.”

“First real job, huh?” She flushed slightly, the tint barely perceptible thanks to the street lamps. “Just graduated, I take it?”

“I did, yes.” Her voice deepened when she wanted to sound more professional, he noted. “Took me a little longer because I had to work full time while I went through college, and I couldn’t always take a full course load. But I’m a proud graduate and ready to use my degree.”

“Good to know.” How long had she practiced that defensive little speech in her mind in case someone asked? He settled back in his seat. “You’ll turn here, then make another and the barracks will be dead ahead.”

“Gotcha.”

She finished the drive and pulled into a space at the back of the lot next to Sweeney’s SUV. “I should have brought a camera or something,” she said, looking around her car. Her voice was higher again, telling him she was nervous. “I don’t know if I’ll need photos but . . .” She bit her lip, and he put a hand over hers on the gear shift between them.

“Don’t sweat it. We’ve all got cell phones with cameras. Between all of us we’ll have plenty of photos.”

“Oh. Right.” She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. A breath that pushed her more-than-a-handful breasts against the tight confines of her shirt. “Sorry, I’m nervous. This isn’t the sort of thing they cover in marketing class.”

“You’re fine. You’ve got it.” He stepped out, then debated going to open her door. She was, for all intents and purposes, on the job now. Would she see that as stepping over a boundary? Be angry he’d done something she could do for herself?