My hands tangled in his hair, and I’d quit caring where we were by the time he lifted his head. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

An unladylike snort erupted from me. “I’m not mad, I’m determined.”

He dragged his tongue across his lip, and the cabin was suddenly very hot. I reached up, quickly turning the dial for air, shifting my weight to ease the ache he’d woken with just a freaking kiss. Damn it, now I was turned on, too? This was going to be a long trip.

“This dig will make it so you can apply to start your PhD in the spring term.”

“So?” I asked, still fighting with the freaking air.

He reached up and turned it, and cool sanity hit my face. Now if only it would douse my thighs in ice. That’d be great.

“So, you couldn’t apply in time for normal term because we didn’t know where I’d be stationed until December.”

“Right.” Yeah, I’d been pissed. Of course my future would revolve around where Josh was stationed, but that was the life I’d chosen. So I’d bitten my tongue and waited for his assignment, knowing that it would cost me a year.

“So now you’ll get to go on an amazing dig and be on track with your peers for your PhD.”

The plane pulled away from the gate. Josh gripped the armrest but showed no other sign of nervousness.

“I’ll be gone for two months.”

He shrugged. “I was gone for three. It’s your turn.”

“And look what happened during those three!” I hissed and immediately regretted it.

“Okay, well, as long as you’re not flying helicopters in enemy territory, I think we can safely assume the same won’t happen to you.” He winked.

Winked. How could he look like everything was okay when I knew the truth?

I barely held myself back from sputtering. “Not funny. What if you need me?”

“I’ll adapt, just like we do during deployments.”

A shudder racked me. “Okay, don’t say that in plural. One is enough.”

“You need this,” he argued, brushing a strand of hair off my shoulder and lingering on my exposed bra strap.

I pulled up the boatneck of my T-shirt. “I need you,” I argued.

“No, you don’t. You stood on your own while I was gone, and I was proud of you, December. I’m not going anywhere, our relationship, our marriage…” He paused, as we both smiled like idiots for that second, but his faded. “It’s two months, and you’re going.”

We taxied out to the runway, both ignoring the monotone explanation of the jet’s safety features.

“I don’t think you understand, Josh. I don’t know if I can walk away and leave you here. You coming home alive is this giant gift, and I can’t just ignore that and go spend two months in Turkey. If Dad had come home, Mom wouldn’t have left his side.”

He swallowed. “You’re not your mother. I love her, Ember, I do, but you’ve never been the woman to let your dreams take a backseat to mine. It’s one of the reasons that I love you. You know who you are and what you want. I’m not going to be responsible for you losing that.”

“Me not going on one dig while you’re recovering is not going to alter the course of my life, our life,” I argued.

He rubbed his hands over his face. “Stop. Just stop. This fucking mess I’m in the middle of, I’m not dragging you into it. Captain Trivette is dead. Will is dead. Jagger’s legs are pulverized, and I’m…” He shook his head. “I’m responsible for enough tragedy without adding your future to it, so you’re going. End. Of. Story.”

“We,” I whispered as the jet whirred to life, sending us hurling down the runway.

“What?” he barked, his knuckles white against the armrest.

I covered his hand with mine. “We are in this mess, not just you. When are you going to see that?”

His eyes swirled with emotions I couldn’t name, they flickered by too fast, but the anger, the determination—that stayed front and center.

“You’re going to fucking Turkey,” he snapped as we went airborne.

He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, effectively shutting me out. My hand fell away from his, and I looked out the window as the ground dropped away from us.

I’d felt closer to him when he was in Afghanistan than I did with him sitting right next to me.

Chapter Twenty-Five

EMBER

The Arizona heat hit as soon as our feet touched the oven that was aptly called a Jetway. I was sweating by the time we made our way into the air conditioning of the terminal.

I took Josh’s offered hand as we made our way to the baggage claim. As close as he was, even with his skin against mine, he was a million miles away. He’d white-knuckled the flight, pretending to watch the movie, and hadn’t said more than a handful of words to me.

I’d shoved all the Turkey papers back into my bag, sorry that I’d even brought them to look over. It was in another six weeks anyway, what did it matter right now?

As we passed through the security doors, Josh’s mom ran to him through the crowd. She was a small woman, even shorter than me, with close-cropped brown hair and brown eyes that laughed easily. He leaned down to hug her, and I briefly wondered how old he’d been when he’d passed her in height.

“Oh, thank you, God,” she said as she embraced him. Her relief was palpable, bringing a quick sting of tears to my eyes.