I gingerly took hold of it, turning his arm over and inspecting the device. “And you’ll still heal?”

“Faster, at least that’s what they said. They were minor fractures, really, in good locations, or as good as you can get when you break your arm, right?”

“And you can take it off?” I fingered the Velcro.

“Yeah, but only to wash my arm.” He ran his tongue across his lower lip and gave me a look that screamed pure sex. “Or maybe other things…”

I fake-punched the good side of his chest. “Ha-ha. You have jokes. It comes off in the shower and that’s it, mister.”

“There are no rules against getting you in the shower,” he whispered in my ear, throwing his arm around my shoulders as we walked out of the orthopedist’s.

The image of him naked against me, water dripping over the lines of his muscles, hitched my breath. “After your arm is one hundred percent,” I promised, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. “As for now, we’re due at the airport in two hours.”

“I’m driving,” he said with a wicked grin, snatching the keys out of my hand.

“Josh, you have a cast on!”

“Ember, your car is an automatic!” he teasingly mocked me, even nailing my eyebrow arch. “I’m good, I swear. I asked.”

He opened my door and winked when I glowered at him and settled into my seat, then clicked the belt in place. “I don’t like this,” I said as he slid in behind the wheel.

He sported a sexy-as-hell grin as he waited for the power seat to scoot back. “It’ll be fine, relax.” His hand crept up my thigh, and I plopped it back on the gear shift.

“Nuh-uh. You need both hands, buddy.”

“Okay, but be patient with me. I might be a little rusty.”

I bit my tongue. He shouldn’t have been driving period. I ran through Mom’s advice from volunteering with PTSD soldiers in my head. Be patient. He might drive a little more slowly than normal. He might drive between lanes. He might be a lot more defensive.

He pulled out of the parking space without incident, and I breathed a sigh of relief, then another one once we’d made it off post.

Then he gunned it.

The force of his acceleration threw me back in my seat. My gaze snapped to his face, the small smile that grew as the speedometer climbed. I found the door handle in my hand before I even thought about gripping.

“You know we’re not late or anything, right?” I asked, hoping my voice stayed neutral.

He shot me an amused look. “God, I missed this.”

He darted between cars, switching lanes to weave in and out of the building traffic…and that was before we got on the highway.

Once we hit the on-ramp, I mentally steeled myself. Josh had always driven fast, that was never in question. So why was I so nervous now?

Because whatever that was in his eyes at this moment, that slight edge—it hadn’t been there before. My breath froze in my lungs when he passed the car in front of us, narrowly shooting the gap before darting back into the lane. I snuck a look at the speedometer. Ninety-five.

Don’t nag. Do. Not. Nag.

“Babe, if we get pulled over, I’m pretty sure we’ll actually be late for the flight.”

He looked at me, and I wanted to turn his face back to the damn road. “You’re scared,” he remarked.

“I’m nervous,” I answered, trying to keep the middle ground.

“Did you forget how I like to drive?” he joked.

“Did you forget that my VW doesn’t have rotors? This isn’t”—my sentence faltered as we threaded another needle to pass—“a helicopter.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, his shoulders sagging as he pulled into the right-hand lane.

As our speed dropped, so did the light in his eyes. Doubt gnawed its way into my head with each passing mile that Josh stayed within five mph of the speed limit. Should I have asked him to slow down? I mean, was there really a danger? Sure, he’d always driven like he was a lost member of the crew from The Fast and the Furious, but I’d never been worried enough to actually ask him to slow down.

Had I overreacted?

Wait, was I overthinking this now? I shook my head like the unwelcome line of thought would tumble loose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take your fun away.” Okay, that was the lamest apology ever.

He took my hand in his and lifted it to his lips, kissing the back gently. The air cast did give his fingers way more mobility. I’d definitely wigged over nothing.

“Babe, if you’re ever scared, just tell me. I’d rather slow down than make you think I don’t care how you’re feeling. Besides, like you said, we have plenty of time to get to the airport.”

That was why I loved this man so deeply. No matter what he wanted, he always took my feelings into account first.

Right. That’s why he won’t let you in about what happened to him over there.

I flicked the thought-devil off my shoulder and tried to enjoy the remainder of the drive to the airport.

We checked in at the skycap after parking the car and headed inside the terminal. The line for security wound down the small hallway, and we found ourselves packed in like little sardines.

“This is taking forever,” Josh muttered, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his eyes scanning the crowd around us.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Never better,” he said, still checking out the lines.