“Well, says Fatima.”
She laughed. “Excellent. Well, we need to cross our fingers for some hidden treasures and the path back to the house.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. And dinner,” said Omar.
“Fatima is our chef for the week as well.”
“Wow, Flyboy,” Ivy said, “this is a great set-up. How far away are we from the hangar and the airstrip?”
“It’s just up the road. We can’t quite walk, but Fatima has an old truck we can use.” He shrugged. “Or the rental car.”
“What’s going to be the protocol with this group?” she asked. “Are we starting with the classroom group A, or are they more advanced? Were they able to complete the assessments we sent over earlier?”
Colton watched her mind begin to spin, and all the light and easy adventure seeped out of her expression. When he didn’t answer, she frowned. “Well?”
He shrugged. “I’m off duty right now. I thought we could find some lost treasure before we start talking shop.”
Her small huff made him smile, and he waved her forward. “After you.”
“Did anyone bring a . . . ?”
He dug a waterproof flashlight out of his pocket and shined it out in front of her.
“Oh, great. Thanks.” She stepped forward into the darkness with only his light shining the way.
“What about bats? Didn’t the whole pandemic start because of a bunch of dirty bats?” Omar tried to crouch lower, to shrink smaller into himself, but it was no use, his bulk filled the area around him.
“That was in China. I don’t think we have the same problem down here in almost-Antarctica. It’s too cold, for one.” Ivy wrapped her arms around herself.
“You getting cold? Let’s pick up the pace.” Colton stepped up beside her. “Wish I could share a sweatshirt or something. But I’m as drenched as you.”
“It’s all right. I’ll be hot enough again out in the sun.”
Omar stumbled behind them a little bit. “You okay, dude?”
“Yeah, just fine. I don’t like things that fly.”
Ivy snorted.
“Except for us. We’re the only things that should be flying as far as I’m concerned.”
Colton nodded. “That’s fair.” He laughed to himself, appreciating the things you could learn about your team if you relaxed a little and had some fun.
He walked at Ivy’s side for a few quiet moments, and then the cave separated into a fork. “And now. A decision to make.” He nodded toward Omar. “It’s up to you.”
“Let’s go right.”
“Why, right?” Ivy turned to him. Colton wished he could see what was going on in her mind.
“Because that is the direction of our path.”
She nodded. “Makes sense. But what if the treasure is off the normal path; what if it’s that way?”
“Does the rule-following, practical Ivy have an adventure-seeking side?”
She lifted her chin. “There is plenty of adventure to be had within the bounds the rules allow.”
“And we all know there’s no treasure back in these caves.” Omar shook his head.
“We do? How do we know that?” Colton egged him on a little bit.
“It would have been found by now.” Omar took a step down the path on the right.
Colton looked to Ivy, who shrugged and followed, but when she got close, she whispered, “I say we come back and see what’s down the other path.”
Her breath, tickling his skin, sent a wave of expectation through him. “You’re on.”
The smile she sent his way, part conspiratorial, part dare, amped up every bit of interest or curiosity he’d felt for this woman. And he had to stop his hand from reaching out to grab hers. Wow, what was it about her straight, careful beauty that made him want to muss her up a bit? Whatever it was, it had grabbed him, and he was already as entangled in her as he had been with any woman.
Chapter 4
Ivy created some distance between her and Colton. Something about him emanated heat—enticing, handsome heat. And even though her shivering arms wanted a bit of that, she could not in a million years consider acting on any of the new attraction she’d noticed between them. She was pretty sure he felt it too. A complaint letter between them was awkward enough without exploring anything else. Especially when her interest was purely physical at this point, obviously, since she couldn’t usually stand the way he handled things in any other part of his life. She amended—the parts that she’d seen, which were entirely work-related. But the way a man flew a jet said a lot about him.
They walked along for a moment, and he surprised her. “Okay. Let’s learn some more about each other. Omar, you and Ivy tell me three things you know I don’t know about you.”
“So, nothing that is in our files?”
“Exactly, or that would come up on a background check. We already know about your brief stint in in-school suspension.”
“I was never . . .” Ivy stopped. Colton was watching Omar.
“Shut up, dude. That should have gone away a long time ago.”
“Do I want to know?” Ivy asked.
“Just a dumb teacher out to get me. I pushed someone who had it coming.”
Colton held up his fist for a bump from Omar. “It was part of the reason we hired you.” He looked sideways at Ivy. “If you don’t know the story, this guy took on the bully in high school no one else dared to face and punched him in the nose twice and then in the gut before a teacher stopped him.”
“I can’t believe we are having this conversation. I’ve punched a few bullies since high school.” Omar snorted.
“One of your best qualities.” Colton held out his fist for a bump again.
“I had no idea.” Ivy looked at Omar with new eyes. “Good for you.”
“What?” Colton’s wide-eyed, mocking expression made Ivy want to roll her eyes. “Does the rule-following Ivy Hatfield support a little in-school suspension?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I see what you’re doing here. And yes. Omar’s suspension sounds worth it.”
“He was a jerk. He’d just slapped Kirsten’s backside.”
“Oh, then, yeah. Good for you.”
Colton studied her, and Ivy didn’t feel like spelling anything out for him; let him puzzle as long as he wanted. Some rules were made to be broken. But not the ones put in place to keep them safe.
“So, what else don’t I know about you, Omar?” Ivy stepped up to his side, leaving Colton behind them.
“My favorite color is pink.”
Colton snorted.
“No, really, it is. The kind of pink in sunsets.”
Ivy nodded.
“And . . .” He stood taller and grinned back over his shoulder at Colton. “I was prom king.”
“You were?” Ivy sized him up. “I can see that.”
“Whoa, what do you mean, you can see that? You can look at a guy and see if he was prom king?” Colton asked.
“Sure. Look at him. He was a cute high school kid. We know he didn’t put up with crap, and . . . yep. I can see it.” She turned to him. “You. You were not prom king. But you might have been the class clown.”
Omar laughed. “Dude. I can totally see that.”
Colton just shook his head. Then he turned to Ivy. “Your turn.”
“I think I’ll leave high school days behind. Let’s see. I win Uno every time.”
“You know we’re playing that every night now.” Omar groaned. “Not the way I imagined my nightlife.”
“I’m undefeated.”
“That’s impossible,” Colton challenged.
She shrugged. “Says you.”
“Okay, and?”
The intensity with which Colton watched her when he didn’t think she noticed made her want to make light of the game, but she humored him and gave him a carrot. “I have a secret wish to own a ranch and ride horses.”
Colton stopped walking. In the middle of the cave, his flashlight bobbed.<
br />
Ivy and Omar turned. Omar stepped closer. “You okay, dude?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” His smile teased them with a half appearance. “Just . . . stumbled on something.” He looked straight ahead, but it was the kind of gaze that was obviously trying really hard to stay that way instead of looking anywhere else.
What on earth had she said? “And for my third, I don’t like chocolate.”
“What? Now that just ain’t right. Who doesn’t like chocolate?” Omar shook his head.
“I can’t help it. The only chocolate I like is the kind that is pretty much disguised by something else. Chocolate covered cinnamon bears, Snickers bars, that kind of thing.”
“Noted.” Colton’s eyes widened, and his gaze flicked to hers before looking away again. He cleared his throat. “My turn. I was the valedictorian of my . . . college class.”
“Oh, he’s turning it up a notch. At Rutgers? That’s a big deal, man.” Omar held up a fist,
and they banged knuckles. Again.
“Thank you. Some people think I’m a screwup, class clown or something, but no. Turns out, I’m a smart guy after all.”
Ivy pressed her lips together. “Most people are judged by their behavior, not their resume.”
He dipped his head to her. “And that is a perfect lead-in to my next bit of juicy detail. I almost got kicked out of the Air Force for doing an illegal maneuver.”
“Oh yeah. They call it The Fly.” Omar high-fived him, and they did some kind of manly dance about it.
“Everyone knows that about you.” Ivy crossed her arms, suddenly more irritated than the moment warranted, but she couldn’t help it. Why did a perfectly great guy like Colton have to be so reckless?
“What you don’t know is that in the same time period I was almost kicked out of the Air Force, they also gave me a medal of honor.”
Ivy felt her mouth drop. She hadn’t heard that. She didn’t think anyone knew that. Everyone talked about The Fly—Flyboy’s signature move—all the time. She’d heard about him before she met him. But they didn’t know about the medal. “Why don’t you ever tell anyone?”
“What?” Colton studied her, his eyes intense in the dark of the cave.
“Why don’t you tell people? Everyone knows about the move . . .”
“I didn’t tell them about the move either. I’m kind of private guy, believe it or not.”
She nodded, slowly, taking in a new side of Colton she hadn’t considered before. He was a private guy? One of the most talked-about pilots was a private kind of guy? She wasn’t sure she believed him. But she logged that extra information away and kept walking.
“I think I see the end.” Omar picked up his pace.
“You not liking the cave, Omar?” Colton stepped up beside him, keeping his feet moving at a faster pace.
Omar mumbled something to Colton, and then Ivy watched a few more moments of Colton making an obvious effort to keep things light with Omar. “Tell me about football. What made you step away from the pros to enlist?”
Omar had been about to play pro football? Ivy didn’t know that either.
She stepped closer to hear the response, but it was lost between the two of them. Omar laughed and responded to everything Colton was doing with him. He seemed to feel lighter, and he talked more than Ivy had ever heard him. And before long, they were all standing outside the cave, the sunlight making them shield their eyes and blink a few times.
“Wow, that was amazing.” Ivy turned back to see the opening. It was mostly hidden. The entrance faced away from the trail. Even if she studied the patterns on the rock, she couldn’t see where one pattern ended and another began. “I would never have known this cave is here.”
“But now we do.” Colton looked all around them. “Let’s mark it, so we remember.”
“Good idea.” Ivy jumped at the chance, locating a collection of rocks and twigs, and then she and Colton crafted a circle and an arrow on the ground closer to the opening. Her hands brushed his as she laid the last rock. He paused, then reached for her fingers. “Hey, thanks.”
She let him cradle her fingers in his for a moment, then she pulled them away. “For what?”
The tingles that ran up her arm were driving her crazy with an insane urge to check out his lips. Were they soft? Firm? Full? She couldn’t remember. She didn’t think she’d ever looked at his mouth before. But now, it seemed to be the most fascinating thing in the world, judging by her intense curiosity.
She won out and kept her eyes firmly planted, gazing into his, which did other things to her insides. He was so intent, so earnest. She hadn’t known Colton to be earnest. And she realized that perhaps Colton had sides to him that she didn’t know anything about, sides that might contradict the ones she so intensely disliked.
She stood up, looking away. “I’m not ready for this.”
She gasped. Had she spoken out loud?
But when she looked at Colton, he brushed off his hands as if he hadn’t heard. She exhaled slowly. But as they made their way back to where Omar waited for them, he said, “I’m not ready for this either.” Colton winked and then stepped up to Omar’s side again, and the two began chatting as if their conversation were the most important in the world.
Ivy needed to recover. He’d heard. What did he think he’d heard? What wasn’t he ready for?
She wanted to stomp her feet in frustration. The unsettled feeling that started to take over her threatened to drive her crazy. Her wet clothes were starting to chafe, and she longed for a hot shower, a long run—anything. Anything to take her mind off of Colton’s maddening smile, and . . . what? Interest?
She had no idea. But he was her boss. He was dangerous. He was a goofball, and he had no business running a Top Flight training program; she’d said so herself in a formal letter of complaint. She couldn’t forget that. She’d spent all her waking hours of knowing Colton and not liking him . . . She did not like this man, right?
Chapter 5
Colton grinned to himself while he kept Omar talking. He’d had no idea that the tough guy was uncomfortable in tight spaces. But even though Colton was focused on Omar, every part of him was aware of Ivy’s motion behind him. Her soft footfalls, her sighs, and huffs. He grinned. So he’d unsettled her. Excellent.
They returned to Fatima’s, where the white stucco home with flowers along the front welcomed his tired and wet self as he plodded toward her.
She shook her head. “Nossa. You just get inside and in the showers. Those wet clothes can’t feel good after the walk you’ve had. Went in, did you?”
“Yes, we did, but it was lovely.” Ivy put her arm around their hostess and Colton appreciated this affectionate side he’d never known about. “What a beautiful spot here, and so close to your home.”
Fatima seemed to beam. “Yes, super close. Not many guests brave the water, though.” She turned from them to heft what looked like a huge knapsack sheet tied at the top and filled with something. It looked heavy, but she easily lifted it and placed it right on her head. “If you will just head upstairs to wash up, dinner will be ready in about an hour. I know how you Americans like to eat a larger meal in the evening.”
“Thank you. But here, let me get that.” Colton reached for the sack before she could say anything and placed the whole thing on his own head. It was harder to balance such an unwieldy weight than he thought it would be. “Where would you like me to bring this rather large package?”
Fatima stared with open mouth for a moment, and then she laughed. “You can just follow me.” She led the way through the center of the house. “And I won’t even mind if you’re tracking mud in here.”
Colton tried to check his shoes, but then the huge bundle on his head threatened to fall forward.
“Oh, watch it.” Ivy rushed forward and adjusted the sheet. “There you go.”
“Thanks.” He put a hand up to help steady it.
Ivy called out, “If he tracks anything in, I’ll take care of it.”
“Well now, I’ve always wanted to carry one of these things on my head.”
Fatima grinned at him over her shoulder. “What do you think now that you have?”
“I think you have an incredible sense of balance and a very strong neck.” Colton followed her out the back door and into a smaller hut.
“You can put that right there in the bin.”
The space looked like an outdoor wash hut. There were lines for hanging with clothespins ready, a large washbasin, and a scrub board.
“Do you do all the washing by hand?”
“I do, but I hire a washing lady to help me. She comes twice a week. It helps feed her family, and it helps keep our sheets clean.”
He lowered the bundle into the bin she indicated and then dipped his head. “You have a wonderfully organized establishment, and the others can’t stop talking about how pretty it is here. Thank you.”
“You leave a good review, then?”
“Of course, and I’ll personally recommend you to others.”
“Muito Obrigada.” Her grin was brilliant, and it lit her whole face.
“In fact, something else I’ve always wanted to know how to do . . .”
“What’s that?”
“Wash my own clothes by hand.”
She started to shake her head, but Colton held up a hand. “Would you deprive one of your guests a very particular request?”
“No, I won’t. But . . .” She shook her head. “Very well then, come, sit here.”
Colton paid close attention while she demonstrated how to use both hands in friction one against the other to rub out every section of the shirt. Then she showed him how it could be swished around in the soapy water, and how to ring out every bit of excess soap before the rinsing process. Then he tried it himself.
Fatima was patient, but he was obviously not nearly as adept as she. By the time they’d washed and rinsed and hung up one shirt to dry, she was probably behind on whatever else she had been planning to do. But she seemed as happy as ever. “And that, my American pilot, is how you wash a shirt.”
“Thank you, Senhora. I will use this knowledge wisely.” He bowed, and she laughed. “Oh, you. Now, go wash up for supper.”
Flyboy Page 3
