Into the Blue (A Wild Aces Romance)

by Chanel Cleeton

  We stopped on the edge of the dance floor and I looped my arm around her waist as she stepped into me, our movements rote. I didn’t know if it was muscle memory or what, but it was like my body knew instinctively how to adjust to hers, as though we operated on a frequency no one else knew. Even with the ten-year absence.

  The height difference between us was enough that she fit under my chin, my lips brushing against her silky hair as I held her as tightly as I could, swaying along to the music, completely caught up in Becca.

  In the distance the bonfire kicked up, that familiar smell of burning wood reminding me of the last one I’d been to—the night we’d burned a piano after Joker’s memorial service.

  My grip around Becca tightened.

  I hadn’t thought about him in days. I’d been playing knights and dragons, flirting with Becca, painting my grandmother’s kitchen, covering major ground as I ran all over Bradbury. I hadn’t thought about flying much, either, besides that one call with Burn. Early in my career when I’d just been a young wingman, days spent not flying were wasted days. I’d volunteered every time a sortie opened up, chasing hours, convinced that flying defined me. It wasn’t just that the novelty had worn off—

  I didn’t miss it. Not as much as I’d expected to, at least.

  Sure, my time in Bradbury wasn’t completely real. I wasn’t working, this was more like a mental health vacation, but it felt good for once not to be chasing the next adrenaline high, not to be constantly on edge, stressed out, and utterly consumed by my job. It felt good just to dance with the girl who meant more to me than anyone ever had. To laugh and just be me. Not fighter-pilot-me, but the other guy who wasn’t defined by rank, call sign, and patch.

  I needed to sort my shit out when I went back to Oklahoma, needed to figure out where my future was headed. Right now I couldn’t imagine my future not including Becca.

  One dance bled into another, and then another, both of us content to stay like we were, somewhere between where we’d been and where we could be.

  Finally, Becca pulled back.

  “I’m getting chilly. Do you want to go stand near the bonfire?”

  “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  I took her hand as we walked through the crowd gathering near the flames, standing close to the edge. My gaze locked with a couple a few feet away, and I grinned as I saw Katy from the grocery store, her husband and my old high school buddy, John, next to her. They waved us over.

  Katy and Becca exchanged hugs while John and I caught up. I hadn’t had a chance to make it to their place for dinner, and the longer we talked, the more I regretted it.

  I didn’t have any friends outside of the guys in the squadron. The Air Force was both personal life and job, and as much as I loved talking about flying, it was nice to chill and talk about other things.

  Becca and Katy went off to say hi to Megan. John barely waited before they were out of earshot before he asked—

  “Are you guys back together?”

  I grinned. I couldn’t help it. Maybe the answer wasn’t exactly a “yes,” but I was closer and closer to “yes” the more time we spent together. Getting her to come with me tonight was a huge step, her agreeing to go to church and my grandmother’s tomorrow an even bigger one.

  “Let’s just say I’m working on it.”

  “It took you long enough.”

  “I know.” I hesitated, not sure why I was asking, not sure what answer I wanted him to give. “We haven’t talked a lot about the past, but every time we have, she’s made it seem like there wasn’t anyone serious . . .”

  “And you want to know what I’ve seen and heard through the rumor mill?”

  “Kind of? I just don’t . . . I can’t imagine a girl like her being single. And it’s fucked up, because it’s not like I want her to have been with another guy or something, but at the same time, I hate the idea of her being miserable and alone.”

  “I don’t think she was miserable. She seemed okay for the most part. She dated a few guys. Daniel Perkins. Brad Marshall. Toby Dryer.”

  I recognized all the names. Daniel and Brad had been in our high school class; Toby was a few years older. They were all okay guys—which didn’t surprise me because Becca was way too smart to date a guy who was an ass—but . . . Maybe it was unfair, but I couldn’t quite imagine her being happy with any of them. They were kind of boring, and as much as Becca said she wanted stable, she loved the rush.

  “How much longer do you have here?” John asked.

  “Less than a week.”

  “You coming back?”

  I started to say, If she’ll have me, but I caught myself. Part of staying away from Bradbury had been fear; part had been a desire to keep from hurting Becca. I wasn’t sure how things would play out between us, but my self-imposed exile was over. I still had my grandmother, still had ties and memories here, and even though those ties had felt like chains pulling me down when I was younger, now they felt like roots keeping me grounded when the wind shook the fuck out of my branches.

  “Yeah. I am.”

  He gave me a slap on the shoulder and a smile. “Good. Missed you, man.”

  “You, too.”

  We talked for a few more minutes and then our conversation trailed off as Katy and Becca walked back toward us, the glow of the bonfire adding to the punch of their beauty. My chest tightened as I watched Becca, her brown hair down and tangled from the wind, her cheeks pink, her lips curved.

  I took a step away from John and then another, hooking my arm around Becca’s waist and hauling her toward me. I put my mouth on hers, catching her off guard as her lips parted beneath mine in surprise. I kissed her hard and deep, my hands holding her hips, tucking her against my body.

  I love you. I love you. I love you.

  The words pushed at me, clawing their way out. Ten years ago I would have just said them, wouldn’t have held anything back. Now I understood what I’d taken from her when I broke up with her, when I told her I no longer wanted the life we’d planned together, when I’d taken the love she gave me and threw it in her face. I’d been the one constant in her life, the only person who had always been there, and for a girl who had lost her family in a crunch of glass and metal, losing us hadn’t just been a breakup. I’d shaken her foundation, taken everything she knew to be true, and made her question it. I couldn’t do that again.

  So I held the words in, reeling them back until I could give her the certainty she needed and the future she deserved. My hands were still tied by the strings attached to my military commitments, and I couldn’t offer her a future until I untangled myself, until I could offer those hands to her.

  * * *

  We slid under the covers, Becca burrowing against my side in a move that had become habit. She was a maximum contact sleeper, and if I moved, she would reach for me in the middle of the night, in sleep.

  Some things hadn’t changed.

  “I had fun tonight,” I whispered in the dark, reaching out and tracing the curve of her cheek. “Thanks for coming.”

  She threw her leg over mine, kissing my pec.

  “I had fun, too. Thanks for making me go. I forgot how much I enjoyed it.”

  I grinned. “Yeah, me, too. It was good to catch up with everyone. To be with you.”

  “Sorry Lizzie was a little fierce,” Becca mumbled between yawns. “She’s protective.”

  We’d run into Lizzie and Adam later in the evening. She’d pulled me aside and mock threatened me that if I screwed Becca over, she’d sic Dylan after me, which considering how bloodthirsty the kid was, probably wasn’t an idle threat.

  I was glad that after everything Becca had been through after I’d left, she had someone like Lizzie in her corner, someone who had her back when she needed it.

  “Shh. Don’t apologize. She loves you.”

  I love you.

&n
bsp; Becca’s hand trailed down my stomach, sleepily caressing my abs, and my cock sprung to life.

  “I thought you were tired,” I murmured.

  She yawned again. “I am. We can still have sex, though.”

  I squeezed her shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re falling asleep. There’s always tomorrow morning.”

  “We came back here.”

  We’d ended up at my hotel room since it was closer than Becca’s apartment.

  “Yeah. But that doesn’t mean we have to have sex. We can just sleep.”

  “So I guess we’re definitely not just fuck buddies, huh?”

  I laughed at her tone. I couldn’t tell if she was happy, annoyed, or amused about that fact. Maybe a combination of all three.

  “Babe.”

  She yawned again. “Have I ever told you it’s kind of sexy when you call me ‘babe’?”

  I grinned. “Nope.”

  “It is. It’s weird, because if any other guy said it, it would probably annoy me, but it’s kind of cute on you.”

  “Good to know.”

  I reached out and stroked her hair, listening to the sounds of her breathing, until I realized she’d fallen asleep.

  I stared up at the ceiling, my arms and heart full of Becca.

  I whispered her name. “Are you awake?”

  Silence. She’d always been a heavy sleeper; apparently that hadn’t changed, either.

  “I love you,” I whispered, needing to say the words even if it wasn’t time for her to hear them, my arms around her tightening.

  This time I wasn’t letting go.

  TWENTY-TWO

  BECCA

  The crowd at Eric’s grandmother’s place was huge, spilling out of the tiny house onto the porch, into the yard. I knew everyone here so I shouldn’t have felt uncomfortable, but I couldn’t escape the feeling that I was an impostor, living on borrowed time. We looked like a couple, acted like a couple, and yet we weren’t really a couple. It all felt like a lie or a fantasy, and while part of me wanted to indulge it and enjoy the moment, another part of me had alarm bells going off, warning me I was headed for heartbreak.

  I carried some plates into the kitchen, setting them down on the countertop, taking a deep breath and basking in the moment of silence. We’d been here for almost two hours and it felt like not a minute went by without someone coming up to us, either alluding to the fact that we were here together or asking outright. I’d finally left Eric with the minister, excusing myself from the conversation by saying that I needed to help his grandmother clean up a bit. I was pretty sure the minister was talking to him about marital counseling, and a girl had to draw the line somewhere.

  “Thank you so much for all of your help.”

  I turned at the sound of Eric’s grandmother entering the kitchen, a tired smile on her face.

  “I love having everyone over, but these things just keep getting bigger and bigger.” She winked. “When everyone leaves, I’m going to put my feet up on the sofa and have some tea.”

  I grinned. “You deserve it. I don’t know how you do it every weekend. People come because it’s the best party in town and your chicken is amazing.”

  She squeezed my hand. “I’ll have to give you the recipe. It’s been in my family for generations.”

  “I’d like that,” I replied softly.

  Her gaze swept past me. “He did a good job with the kitchen, didn’t he?”

  I grinned. “He did a good job with the whole house. I love the color you chose.”

  “Thank you. He’s a good boy.”

  I nodded. “He is.”

  “It’s been nice having him back, seeing him in town again.”

  I nodded again, not sure where the conversation was headed or if I was ready to go there.

  “He loves you.” Her gaze turned shrewd, searching, and she squeezed my hand. I was pretty sure I’d gone pale, because with those three words she’d taken the conversation somewhere I definitely wasn’t prepared for.

  “I hated seeing the two of you break up,” she continued. “I always loved you like the granddaughter I never had, always was so proud of both of you, so happy to see you together.”

  I bit down on the inside of my cheek, trying to control it, but I couldn’t. Tears welled up in my eyes.

  “Oh, honey.”

  She wrapped her arms around me and held on, and my eyes closed as I relaxed in the comfort of her embrace. I hadn’t had a lot of hugs in my life. Not like this. There had always been Eric, and occasionally Lizzie, but I’d missed out on having a mom I could talk to, who hugged me when I needed it. My grandmother hadn’t been physically affectionate, so for a moment I just let Eric’s hold me.

  “It wasn’t you. He wasn’t ready. He was young and still figuring out who he was, how to grow into the man he needed to be. He loved you so much. Always. But you wanted different things, needed different things.”

  I pulled back, wiping at my eyes. “I know. I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “I guess I just thought that if he loved me, I would be enough to give him what he needed.”

  “I know you did, but he wouldn’t have found himself here. He needed to grow, needed to challenge himself, become someone he could be proud of, someone who could be secure enough to be a husband and father someday. It was different for you—you were always so mature—you had to be with what you’d been through. I know it’s hard to understand, but I think he needed what the military gave him so he could become the man he is today.

  “You always loved him, always saw the best in him back then, but he wasn’t quite there yet. Now he is. You both are. It’s not an accident that you found your way back to each other.”

  She was right. The man before me was more settled than the boy had ever been. And I could see now that, on some level, I’d been so desperate for a family that I’d put a heap of responsibility and pressure on Eric at a young age, not realizing that even though I was ready for those things, he wasn’t. But I still wasn’t sure he was ready, that the future I wanted was even on the table.

  “I don’t think he knows what he wants.”

  “Have faith.”

  I wasn’t sure I had much faith left to give.

  “I know why you stayed away all these years, and I understand, but I want you to know that I’m always here for you. I love you, too.”

  God, apparently today was my day for crying.

  My vision turned blurry, and I leaned forward, giving her a quick hug.

  “Thank you.”

  THOR

  Becca didn’t speak for most of the drive back to my hotel and I couldn’t tell if she was upset or just pensive.

  I was still reeling from the afternoon. I’d figured she was exaggerating when she’d protested my invitation to the Harvest Dance and my grandmother’s brunch. Bradbury was a small town, but I hadn’t quite realized how interested everyone would be in our relationship or the questions that would dog us all day.

  No one was rude and there wasn’t any malice, just . . . aggressive curiosity. About my job. About Becca. About me and Becca.

  If that was what it had been like for her after we broke up . . .

  “Are you okay?” I asked, glancing her way when we hit a stoplight.

  “Yeah. Just tired.”

  I didn’t blame her. I’d had a pounding headache for the last hour.

  “That was a big crowd. I had no idea it had grown that much. When I was a kid, it was like ten people. Now I feel like the whole damned town is there. I’m not sure how she still does it; I swear she has more energy than I do.”

  My grandmother was seventy-five and showed little signs of slowing down. She still worked part-time at the library, supervising a small staff manned mostly by volunteers who adored her. She took two trips a year, both with her church group, and managed to make it down to Florida every few y
ears to visit my mother.

  “I need to come back more often. I shouldn’t have let it go as long as I did.”

  Becca didn’t respond.

  I frowned, turning down the road toward the hotel. “Are you sure you’re okay? Did someone say something to you?”

  She laughed. “Seriously?”

  I grinned despite the worry filtering through me. “Fair enough. Did anyone not say something to you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Is it always like that? Always so intense?”

  “You mean people being nosy about us?”

  I nodded.

  “In the beginning, it was worse.” Her voice tightened and my stomach lurched. “Everyone had an opinion on where we went wrong, a suggestion on what I needed to do to win you back.”

  Fuck.

  “You didn’t need to do anything—”

  “I know. Now. Twenty-one-year-old me spent more time than I should have wondering if they were right.”

  I let out an oath. I never wanted her to think the problem had been her. It was my restlessness that had driven me away, and if anything, she’d kept me here far longer than I would have stayed if not for her presence in my life.

  “It’s okay. They all meant well, thought they were helping. It wasn’t their fault that it was basically like pouring acid into a wound.”

  It was anything but okay.

  “God, I’m sorry, Becca. I honestly had no idea it was like that for you.”

  “Hazards of small town life, I guess.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t stay in Columbia. Get a job there.”

  I was, but then again, I wasn’t. She’d always said this was her dream, and she was loyal. When she committed to something, she was all in.