Classified (The Elite Book 3)

by Brooke Blaine

  “Forever?”

  My answer couldn’t come quick enough. “Forever…”

  Panther ran his hand over my hair. As I closed my eyes and relaxed into his arms, never had I felt more loved and more secure than I did right there, in the arms of my forever.

  30 Panther

  “YOU REALLY THINK this is the best move right now?” Solo said when he took off his helmet. His long legs still straddled his bike, and he didn’t make a move to get off it, which told me he was more than fine not going through with today. But if we were going to really do this thing together—and after our day in bed yesterday discussing our future, that was no longer negotiable—some confrontations needed to happen ASAP to get things out in the open. After what Solo told me about running into my father? That shit was not going to fly, and I definitely had something to say about it.

  “The sooner we do this, the sooner it’s over,” I said.

  Solo nodded, but when he still didn’t make a move to follow me toward the house, I turned back and placed my hands on his handlebars. “You chose us, which means you’re my family now. And it’ll make both our lives easier if we can all choose to accept each other sooner rather than later. Unless…you’re having second thoughts.”

  “Hell no,” he said, finally sliding off his bike. “Not one. Lead the way.”

  “That’s more like it.” I held my hand out, and when Solo took it, my stomach flipped. This was what it was like to finally find your person, to know that they chose you, you chose them, and nothing would get in the way of what you shared.

  Now we just had to make my parents see that.

  The house I’d grown up in was a mid-size Spanish colonial, nothing over the top, but the landscaping my mother paid meticulous attention to made the house seem like it was more than it was, surrounded by such a lush oasis. Palm trees and tropical plants of every shape and color lined the walkway, and judging from the way Solo was taking it all in, he was impressed.

  Wait until he saw the backyard.

  I knocked on the door as a courtesy but didn’t wait for anyone to answer before walking inside. The smell of freshly baked bread filled the air, a scent I identified with home. My mother had never worked outside the home a day in her life, but that didn’t mean she didn’t spend every spare minute learning how to garden, cook, sew, play the piano, learn new languages, or whatever else she woke up thinking she’d conquer that day. She’d never been the type to sit still, always making sure everyone and everything was taken care of.

  Her short black bob was tucked behind her ears as she headed toward the dining room carrying a basket of the bread that smelled so good, but when she saw us in the hallway, she stopped.

  “Grant,” she said, smiling. “And Mateo, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you for having me.”

  “Oh, it’s our pleasure.”

  Solo cocked his head. “You know, my mom had that exact same apron. She used to wear it every Sunday.”

  Mom looked down at the frilly pink apron tied around her trim waist, the one permanently dusted with flour even though she had nicer, newer ones. “Oh no, I’m sorry, I’m such a mess.” She thrust the basket of rolls in my direction and kissed my cheek. “Everything is just coming out of the oven, so how about you boys go on into the dining room and get settled and I’ll let your father know you’re here.”

  “Sure. Thanks, Mom.” As soon as her back was turned, I lifted the towel covering the rolls to sneak one out and heard her say, “Grant, don’t you dare touch those.”

  “Hah. Buuusted.” Solo chuckled.

  And that pretty much summed up my childhood years. Eyes in the back of her head, same as my father, which meant there was no getting away with anything in this family. No wonder Solo thought I was so strait-laced when he met me. I’d never done a rebellious thing in my life.

  “Come on,” I said, dropping the towel back in place and leading the way to the formal dining room. Because my father entertained high-ranking military on a regular basis, there was an elegantly carved cherry table surrounded by ornate high-backed chairs that looked more like something you’d find in a throne room. Even without guests, the three of us always ate our meals there at my father’s insistence. Something about sitting in that room surrounded by such grandeur forced you to be on your best behavior, and I had to admit that I was curious to see how Solo reacted. Was it even possible that he had a “best behavior” side? I sincerely doubted it—which was also one of the reasons I’d fallen for him.

  As I set the rolls down onto the table already covered with bowls and platters of food—way too much for four people—Solo whistled.

  “Just a simple lunch, huh?” He ran his hand over the black Elite shirt that he’d paired with a nice pair of jeans. “You didn’t tell me we were supposed to bust out the tuxes today.”

  “Nah, you look great.”

  “Does all this mean your father is gonna come in in his full formal uniform or what? I just want to be prepared to curtsy.”

  I started to laugh, but then my father boomed, “A simple salute will suffice.”

  If I’d expected Solo to react with an oh shit look, I would’ve been sorely disappointed, because the only hint of surprise on his face was the slight raising of his eyebrows.

  With my father’s looming presence taking up most of the doorway, Solo started forward toward him, his hand outstretched.

  “Afternoon, captain.”

  “Mr. Morgan,” my father said, looking him up and down. To my surprise, he didn’t hesitate in shaking Solo’s hand.

  “Mateo’s fine.”

  “Of course. Good of you to come, Mateo.”

  Solo grinned. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

  My father hummed a response, and when he let go of Solo’s hand, Solo immediately lifted it in salute.

  The smartass in my boyfriend couldn’t resist. I had to smother my laugh as my father gave him a look and waved him off. If this was the beginning of Solo’s “best behavior,” then it would definitely be one for the books.

  God help us all.

  31 Solo

  CAPTAIN HUGHES MAY hold all the power when we were inside Navy walls, but outside of them he was just a man, one I wasn’t going to let get in my head again. I couldn’t believe I’d allowed him in there in the first place, but that was my own damn insecurity to blame.

  No more, I thought, as Captain Hughes took a seat at the head of the table.

  He gestured for us to join him. “Sit.”

  Panther took the seat to the right of his father, so I slid into the spot beside my man, making sure to brush my hand over his thigh under the table. He winked my way as his mom came rushing into the room, carrying a large bowl of salad. She’d removed her apron, revealing a modest dress beneath, as impeccably put together as her husband. Both of them looked more ready for a night out than a lunch at home.

  “Mateo, what would you like to drink?” she asked.

  Panther went to stand. “We can get those, Mom—”

  “Absolutely not. You two stay here and visit, and I’ll be right back with Mateo’s…?”

  “Water is fine,” I said. “Thank you.”

  She nodded and left as quickly as she’d entered, and once she was out of earshot, Panther said, “We need to talk.”

  Unperturbed, Captain Hughes looked at his son, and I could see exactly where Panther got the look of nonchalance he put up to hide what he was truly thinking. Seeing the two of them staring at each other with those same blank eyes was a little unnerving.

  “Would you like to explain why you thought it was a good idea to interfere with my relationship?” Panther asked.

  “Interfere?”

  “Yes. Telling Solo to cut me off? Why would you do that?”

  His father took the artfully folded napkin from his plate, snapped it straight, and laid it on his lap. “Surely you know better than to come into my house with accusations you can’t back up.”

  “So you’re go
ing to lie to my face and say you didn’t tell Solo to leave me alone? Seriously?”

  “I never said such a thing. And certainly not in those terms.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Panther said, his skin flushing an angry crimson. “At least be honest about what you’ve done. About what you say.”

  “I believe my words to Mateo were that he should do the right thing.” Captain Hughes turned his penetrating stare on me. “Interesting that you interpreted what I said as an opportunity to break things off with my son.”

  What…the fuck.

  I wasn’t often at a loss for words. “Excuse me?”

  “If I remember correctly, and I always do, I asked you a series of questions you couldn’t answer about the future of your relationship with Grant. I told you this isn’t what I would’ve wanted for my son—”

  “Which is none of your business,” Panther interjected, but his father continued.

  “—and that I expected you would have his best interest at heart—”

  “You told me to ‘do the right thing,’” I said, getting annoyed now.

  Captain Hughes nodded. “I did. But not once did I tell you what that was.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but what he’d said struck me right in the chest. Had I really jumped to the conclusion that he hated me and wanted me to end things with Panther before graduation? I mean, it had definitely read that way to me at the time, and I never had reason to think otherwise. Obviously he wasn’t a fan of mine. He’d definitely said the thing about not wanting this for his son, but I’d assumed the “this” in question referred to my relationship with Panther, not anything else. What else could he have meant? Of course I’d take it the way I had.

  I thought back, replaying our run-in in my head, and trying to pinpoint when he’d alluded to breaking things off.

  Had he actually ever said it?

  The roar of blood in my ears was all I could hear as my heart pounded faster, sweat beading on my brow.

  No. No way. It was impossible that I’d read the whole thing wrong, that I’d formed an assumption that wasn’t true. Right?

  Oh, Jesus Christ.

  I looked at Panther and got out a single word: “Fuck.”

  “What?” Panther asked, reaching for my hand. “Tell me.”

  My mouth was suddenly dry, and I reached for my water only to realize Panther’s mom hadn’t returned with the drinks. A mix of emotions roiled inside me, and I wasn’t sure which was going to come out first. I turned toward Captain Hughes and said, “But you hate me.”

  “Hate is a strong word. I don’t hate anyone.”

  “You severely dislike me, then. You don’t think I’m good enough for your son.”

  Captain Hughes inclined his head. “When you’re a parent, you’ll realize no one on earth is good enough for your child.”

  “Especially me, though. That’s what you meant when you said you wouldn’t have chosen this for Grant. You meant us together.”

  “That wasn’t a question.”

  I set my jaw. “And that wasn’t an answer. Sir.”

  The tension in the room ratcheted up a notch as we stared at each other, Panther’s head going back and forth between us like he was wondering whom he’d have to hold back first. It wouldn’t go that far—I did have some modicum of respect for his father’s rank, after all—but I wanted him to clarify what he’d meant.

  Seconds felt like hours ticking by, and then finally Captain Hughes sighed. “There’s something the both of you need to understand. Wanting the best for your child is not a crime. Life is difficult, our jobs are dangerous, and adding something that would’ve had you banished from the military only a short while ago…makes me nervous. I’m sure your parents would’ve agreed with me, Mateo, and while perhaps they would’ve been quicker to accept your choices, they weren’t in our line of work and they wouldn’t fully understand the repercussions. Just like the two of you wouldn’t, having never experienced the backlash I saw firsthand. I know you think I disapprove of the two of you together, but that’s simply not true.”

  Any second now, the enormity of what he was saying would kick in and my brain would explode.

  Any second now…

  “Then…” Yep, there it goes. Brain officially short-circuiting. “I don’t understand. What was that day in the store all about? Because, yeah, you may not have come right out and said it, but you led me to believe one thing, when…what? You meant another?”

  “Easy mistake to make, considering he doesn’t know how to smile,” Panther said under his breath. His words would’ve made me laugh if I wasn’t still engaged in a stare-off with his father.

  Captain Hughes raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t it obvious why? If I could choose an easier path for Grant, I would’ve. But that’s not within my control, and he’s made it clear that his choices are his own. He chose you. I only wanted to know if you would be doing the same.”

  My mouth fell shut. It was clear that Captain Hughes cared about his son and that his words were genuine, even if his expression never changed. Or maybe it was the gruff, direct way he communicated that threw me and everyone around him off. Either way, what he’d just said had made a clear impact on Panther, whose head had lowered.

  I squeezed his hand, guilt rising inside me. “I’m so sorry. I thought… I guess I took what he said the wrong way—”

  “No.” Panther shook his head. “You may have projected your feelings onto what he said, but he was still giving you a warning.” He turned to his father. “I could’ve lost him because you interfered.”

  Captain Hughes opened his mouth to respond, but then thought better of whatever he was going to say and nodded.

  “You won’t do that again,” Panther said. “Solo’s not going anywhere, not now, not after graduation.” He squeezed my hand back. “He stays. Understand?”

  “I do.”

  “And you.” He turned back to me. “Don’t let anyone interfere again. You got that?”

  I tried to bite back my grin, but it busted through anyway. “I promise.”

  “Good.” He settled back in his chair looking like a weight had left his shoulders, but I still had one thing left to say.

  “Captain Hughes? I love your son. I may have fucked—screwed that up royally once, but I won’t do it again.” I brought our joined hands up, resting them on the table. “You said you wanted me to do the right thing, and I’m here to tell you I will. Because the right thing for Grant is me, and like he said…I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

  Panther beamed as I lifted our hands to brush a kiss across his knuckles. I chanced a glance at his father and was shocked to see a hint of a smile.

  “Good,” he said hoarsely, and then he cleared his throat. “Well, now that that’s settled, Panther, would you go check on your mother—and Mateo, please pass the rolls.”

  32 Panther

  THE MOOD WAS tense between the trainees as we headed into the bay area to get changed for the day’s hop. The camaraderie and friendship we’d built during our time together over the past three months was on the back burner as we each thought about what today would bring for us.

  Today was the final day of our classes. It was the day we’d find out which one of us was not only the most skilled in a fighter jet, but also the most cunning when it came to making quick in-air combat decisions.

  The men and women who entered this course did so with one goal in mind: to come out on top. And while that was still my number one priority, so was getting home safely and starting the next chapter of my life with Solo.

  We’d spent the entire morning going over the flight brief with Commander Levy, before he’d given us our final match-ups of the program, and it was no surprise that they’d kept the hardest hop until last.

  Today we’d be going up in our original pairings, and tasked with up-close-and-personal dogfighting. During our time here at the course, we’d generally stuck to BVR—beyond visual range—missile training where you got a lock on your kill wi
thout them even seeing you. But this up-close shit was a whole other bag of tricks. It was a technique that was all but obsolete in today’s air-to-air combat, but something each of us fighter pilots had to learn on the off chance we found ourselves in a situation where everything had gone tits up, and all we had left to rely on was our quick thinking and maneuverability.

  For today’s mission I would be taking lead and Solo would be my wingman. He headed over to his bay to suit up, and I followed close on his heels. He’d been unusually quiet during this morning’s brief, but I could tell by his furrowed brow and set jaw that he was merely processing all of the information we’d been given for this final flight—and there had been a lot.

  This kind of combat was the most intense, and essential. It was missions like these that a pilot either excelled at or broke down during, and today we’d find out exactly which side we landed on.

  “So, you ready for this?” I said as I stopped outside the bay where Solo was laying out his gear.

  “To hand Gooch his ass one last time? You better believe it. Will feel good to give Whiplash another reason for her name, too. You know, when she’s looking behind her to see us on her tail.”

  I chuckled as Solo pulled on his G-suit and began securing it around his thighs, then I moved into his bay to hand him his survival vest. As he stepped into the harness and pulled it up his legs, I made sure to keep my eyes on his so I wouldn’t get distracted by just how well that piece of safety equipment emphasized…well, his equipment.

  “I had a feeling Levy was gonna pit us against each other,” he said as he slipped his arms inside the straps and secured it. “The four of us have been circling the top of the leaderboard for a while now.”

  It was all up to us now, and what we did in the air today. The person who was named the best of the best was going to have to exhibit both exemplary piloting skills and top-notch leadership qualities, and I knew that the man standing opposite me was my biggest competitor.