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forced to follow.
    “I hope you"re kidding.”
    Taylor grunted. He squatted down to retrieve his pistol, and Will was forced to squat too, watching as Taylor dusted off the clumping sand.
    “Nice of him to leave us these. We"d have a hell of a time explaining how we both lost our pieces.” Taylor shoved the pistol into his shoulder holster.
    “No kidding.” Will met Taylor"s eyes. “Hey.”
    Taylor was silent.
    “Just so you know, if I have to be shackled to someone, I"d choose you. Every time.”

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    He saw the glimmer of Taylor"s teeth as he curled his lip in something that was not exactly a smile. “Just a wild and crazy romantic, aren"t you, Agent Brent?”
    “Yep, little man, I am.”
    Taylor gave him a friendly shove, and they both nearly overbalanced.
    Maybe the camaraderie was a little forced, but it helped ease the strain between them. Dusting off their hands, they went to retrieve Will"s weapon.
    He found his SIG Sauer P229 a few feet from the car. Wincing at the thought of grit working its way into the mechanism, he wiped away as much wet and sand as he could with the tail of his T-shirt. He reholstered the pistol with a feeling of relief.
    “I lost my pen,” Taylor said. “Do you have yours?”
    Will felt around, handed his pen over.
    Taylor held it up. “I can"t see anything.”
    “What is it you need to see? Because unless you"re planning on writing your resignation, we need to get out of here pronto.”
    “I know. Let"s get in the car.”
    “Uh, don"t we need to change the tire first?”
    “First we need to get out of these cuffs, but I have to be able to see what I"m doing.”
    “What are you doing?” Will inquired as they unlocked the car. Taylor crawled in first, followed by Will, who slid beneath the wheel. The pine tree-shaped deodorizer swayed gently, its artificial scent mingling with that of wet clothes and desert rain.
    “I"m going to make a shim and pick this lock.” With his free hand, Taylor reached up and turned on the dome lamp. Pallid light illuminated his face. For a second, Will stared at him, stared at a face he knew as well as his own: the wide, long-lashed green eyes, the full, sensual mouth, the silver streak in the dark hair starting to curl with the damp.

    Dangerous Ground 3: Blood Heat

    35

    Unaware of his scrutiny, Taylor was busily taking the pen apart, prying the silver clip from the body. “Hold your wrist up.”
    “I don"t recall lock picking as part of my FLETC training.”
    Taylor grinned faintly as he slid the piece of dismantled pen between the teeth and the mechanism of the cuffs. There were goose bumps on his brown, thinly muscled forearms. The tip of his tongue touched his upper lip. Will felt an inappropriate longing to pull him into his arms and hold him for a moment.
    Possibly more than a moment. And possibly do more than just hold Taylor. But definitely inappropriate.
    Taylor levered the shim, wiggled it, pushed, and the teeth of the lock, thrown out of alignment, clicked over. The cuff opened. He smiled broadly.
    Will rubbed his wrist. “Nice job, MacGyver.”
    “Thanks. Now me.” He frowned, trying to crane his head to see the lock mechanism properly.
    “Someday you"re going to have to tell me where you learned some of these esoteric skills of yours.”
    “Boy Scouts.”
    “You weren"t in the Boy Scouts.”
    “True. I knew one or two, though.” He spared a wink for Will. “Hold that cuff out of the way.”
    Will obeyed.
    It took a little longer, but in another minute or so, Taylor too was free.
    Will expelled a long sigh of relief. They were back in action. Hopefully not too late to fix this fucked-up operation. “Let"s get that tire changed.”
    Taylor tossed the broken pen into the cup holder. “Roger that.”
    “And then,” said Will, yanking open the car door again, “we"re going to knock that goddamned giant off his goddamned beanstalk.”

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    Josh Lanyon

    Chapter Four

    The rain lashing out of the darkness