by Jo Leigh
“Evaluations will begin tomorrow morning, eight hundred sharp, conference room. You will now report to the minibus.” Her lips twitched slightly. “To be transported to the Tin Shack, where I will buy the first round.”
The team groaned at her teasing, then hustled to the exit. He glanced back in time to see Sara turn to a scowling O’Malley. Even knowing the story of how the two of them had become friends, watching them together seemed completely illogical.
“What’s so funny?”
Luke grinned at Hanover. “Just thinking my first drink will be the most expensive Scotch in the joint.”
“I’ve been to the Tin Shack,” Hanover said. “The most expensive Scotch is the only Scotch. Do yourself a favor and stick to beer. And not the tap swill.”
“Duly noted.”
THE SPEAKERS HAD DONE a terrific job, and they deserved not only some R & R but some attaboys. She deserved some privacy to get her thoughts in order, which was why she’d driven her own rental.
Sara was pleased with the turnout and the retention. Overall, the night had gone well. Better than expected. She’d seen the recruiters’ cards go into pockets and purses; more importantly she’d seen that several, maybe more than several, people in the audience had been engrossed. Their minds had opened to the possibility that they could be part of the air force. That was huge. That was success. She would concentrate on that, and on the team who pulled it off.
She would even compliment Van Linn. The captain had done an exemplary job.
The bar wasn’t far from the college, and she landed a decent parking space. She straightened her jacket after she closed the car door, then wondered if it would be more appropriate to leave her jacket behind. No, she was good.
The minibus hadn’t arrived as far as she could tell, which would give her an opportunity to speak to the bartender. She’d pay for the first round, but only the first round. And she’d make sure the evening didn’t get out of hand, because no one would benefit from hangovers.
Despite the music being awfully loud, she was able to make her arrangements and take a moment to look around. She’d been there before because the Tin Shack catered to a military clientele. There were uniforms of all sorts, some air force, but mostly navy.
She caught the entrance of her group, pleased to see them looking happy. Of course, her gaze settled on Luke. He’d been magnetic tonight, even better than she’d imagined. She’d been right to have him speak last. And yes, she would give him his due because he was a part of the night’s success.
The group joined her at the end of the bar. It was a tight fit, but no one seemed to mind. “Order up,” she said, loudly enough to be heard over the country music. “Beer or wine is fine. More than one, you’re on your own. But remember, it’s a school night.”
As a group, they scowled at her, but they didn’t really mind. She saw a handful of marines vacate a table near the pool room and she managed to snag it ahead of a small group of navy pilots.
Slowly, the team joined her, Luke and Van Linn trailing the pack. It was a good thing that Sara had her game face on, because she felt angry heat bubble up, but as they walked, she noticed that Van Linn wasn’t wearing that seductive smile from the night before. In fact, she seemed pissed off. Trouble in paradise?
Luke seemed…puzzled. Terri stopped; so did he. Luke went from parade rest to attention, and then Terri left him behind. Even when the OSI officer made it to the table, there was an air of irritation about her.
It occurred to Sara that she’d forgotten to get herself a beer, which would make it difficult to raise a toast. She’d improvise, but first she had to forget the Luke/Terri thing and focus.
By the time Luke arrived at the table, she’d pulled it together. “Congratulations,” she said. “You were all fantastic tonight. Each of you brought your A game to the stage, and it made a difference.” She met each gaze as she moved from speaker to speaker. “I know you made the difference tonight. The air force will change because some of those kids will enlist, and it’ll be due to your sincerity, your professionalism and your determination. Thank you for all the hard work and thank you for being the kind of examples that stir others to service.”
There was a lifting of bottles and chilled glasses, a “Hear, hear” that sounded loud even in that crowd, and dammit, she wished she had a drink.
Not everyone had a seat, but the group huddled. She wondered if they’d have the same camaraderie by the conclusion of the tour. A flash told her that Tritter had brought his camera, and that was a good thing, too. He’d been busy tonight. After his talk, he’d taken photos of the evening, some of which would be included in future presentations, press releases and media kits.
Luke had disappeared, but then Danny Franks caught her attention, and they got into a discussion about how to handle the technical questions that had come after his presentation. He wanted to impress the tech heads, but he didn’t want to alienate the rest of the audience. The two of them stepped back without disengaging from the group too much so Sara could keep a weather eye out.
A hand on her shoulder startled her. It was Luke. Something in her flared, and it wasn’t anger. He handed her a beer, smiled, then went back to the others.
She managed to finish her talk with Franks. When he left, Luke took his place.
“Congratulations,” he said. “You put together a hell of a program.”
“Thanks. And thanks for the beer.”
“No sweat.”
“You and Van Linn have a falling-out?” She hadn’t meant to lead with that, but it was a valid question. They were part of the team, and she needed her team strong.
His lips thinned and his gaze darted away, but he said nothing.
“I wasn’t implying anything. I just need to know if there are any problems.”
“We should speak,” he said. “Privately.”
“Privately?” she asked, keeping her voice steady. “Really?”
He nodded. “I’d rather not discuss it here. And it should be soon.”
If another member of the team had said those words, she would have agreed immediately. “Fine. We shouldn’t be here long. Meet me at the diner twenty minutes after we get back to the motel.”
LUKE WALKED INTO the restaurant ten minutes late. It hadn’t been his fault, he’d been unable to extract himself from the group discussion that had begun during the ride. Sara was already sipping coffee. When he joined her, she pointedly looked at her watch.
“Apologies,” he said. “Couldn’t be helped.”
“Fine,” she said, and it hurt because her tone was all business, as if they hadn’t laughed, hadn’t felt the heat between them. “What’s the problem?”
“I didn’t pursue anything with Van Linn. I was just going for a walk.”
Sara took in a breath, let it go as she studied the empty space beside him. “That’s your business, Luke. As long as it doesn’t interfere—”
“It was her idea. Joining me.”
The fingers holding her cup tightened, were pale with the effort. When he looked up again, he had no idea what she was thinking and that was crazy. It was Sara. How could he not read Sara? “She asked to come with me. I said sure. It was only a walk.”
“Was this why you wanted to talk? Because, honestly, it’s fine.”
He leaned forward, resting on his arms. “Is it?” he asked.
She blushed, held her breath.
Luke sat back quickly, cursing his thoughtlessness. She’d staked out the boundaries of this conversation with her first word, and he’d had to push. It was all he could do not to uncurl her fingers from the cup, bring her hand to his lips… He cleared his throat. “Captain Van Linn came on to me. It was subtle, but the invitation was clear. I begged off. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t a jerk about it. It bothered her, though. I could tell by the way she left. As if I’d embarrassed her.” Just like he’d embarrassed Sara.
A waitress arrived, and Luke ordered coffee. Sara didn’t say a word, didn’t even look at the
woman.
Once they were alone again, Sara’s blush had gone, leaving her pale skin perfect.
“She avoided me all morning,” he said, “but things were fine at the auditorium. I thought we were cool. We aren’t. At least, she’s not cool with me.”
Sara leaned in. Not by much. It made him feel fractionally better. He had made her smile over pizza. Made her laugh out loud. “It was…awkward,” he confessed. “She told me to stay away from her.”
“It’s hard to believe,” Sara said.
“That I turned her down?”
“That you were awkward.”
He laughed. What the hell else was there to do? “I was. It was.”
Sara smiled, but it was sympathetic, not gloating. He hadn’t realized until then that he expected her to enjoy his uncertainty.
“You think she might cause trouble for you?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea what she’ll do, I mean that. I can’t read her.” He couldn’t read Sara, either. She seemed soft again, the way she’d been the other night. Not only her voice or her eyes, nothing he could point to and say: ‘That’s it. That’s the way it feels when we’re right with each other.’
“I appreciate you telling me,” she said. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
The waitress startled him, he’d been so focused on Sara. The coffee helped him relax even more. He had given her the full story. The facts, at least, but not the reason. “The thing is, I don’t care if she spends the next few weeks glaring at me. My conscience is clear, but I worry about how it could affect the team or the tour.”
Sara frowned briefly. “You think she’s that angry? She’d risk the tour?”
“I don’t know the woman.” He picked up his spoon to give himself a reason to avert his gaze. “But I know the type. Big ego, used to getting what they want. Going after it at all costs, acting like a child when they don’t get it. Someone like that doesn’t always think about consequences.” He finally looked at her. “She might regret it like hell later, but the damage will be done.”
Sara’s face didn’t reveal a thing. She looked as if he hadn’t just given his own confession, as if he was nothing more than a member of the team. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
“I don’t want to make any trouble for you, Sara.” Screw it. He touched her cold hand. She didn’t pull away, just stared at him, her face paler now. When she said, “I’d better go,” it surprised him. He’d been sure she’d meant to say something else.
Out the window, across the parking lot, he saw Franks and Pearson headed toward the restaurant. Shit. He cleared his throat, pulled back his hand. “The show was great tonight. You know that, right?”
“Right.” She blinked. “You all did a wonderful job.” She hesitated, put two dollar bills on the table, then stood.
“You made it happen,” he said. “Your fingerprints are all over this carnival, and you’ve outdone yourself. We had them. They listened. You should be proud.”
She smiled, a real smile, licked her bottom lip, and then her gaze flicked to the window and sharpened with awareness. Her eyes tracked the other two team members. “Thank you, Luke.” She met his gaze, and they had one tiny moment before she was gone.
SHE’DWALKED TO THE coffee shop, and was glad of it as she headed back to the motel. It wasn’t a long walk, no more than a block and a half, but she needed to think before she got to her room. It was late, she was achingly tired, but if she didn’t get herself squared away, she’d never get any rest.
He’d turned Van Linn down. Why? Sara had made it blatantly clear that nothing was going to happen between herself and Luke. He knew damn well that she was off-limits. No matter what else was true about Van Linn, the woman was gorgeous and single and she’d offered herself up for the taking, and yet Luke had said no.
Sara hadn’t even considered that possibility. The vulnerability, the weird level of honesty, of humility, none of that meshed with the man she’d thought she knew better than anyone. He had changed, which didn’t make sense to her. It wasn’t as simple as him getting older and wiser. If she could believe the evidence, he’d practically become someone else.
People didn’t do that. Men, especially men as good-looking and self-assured as Luke, couldn’t alter the basics. For God’s sake, he was still a fighter pilot. A warrior. A man who could charm the panties off a three-star general’s daughter. In the general’s house. Luke still made Sara’s knees weak and her body ache. He knocked her for a loop any time they were close.
And then tonight. Jesus, he’d been talking about himself, not just Van Linn. Two months ago, if someone had told Sara Luke would be sitting across a table from her saying all that stuff, she would’ve laughed in their faces. Yet, tonight he’d had her. Not with his confession, but with his compliments. She believed him. There was no doubt in her mind that he meant every word he’d said about her. It shouldn’t matter, not any more than any other compliment, and she’d received several tonight. But his words got to her. They made her feel warm and proud.
She quickened her pace as the enormity of the problem hit her. If she tried to unravel the truth about Luke, or if she continued to let her guard down, there was every reason to believe she’d lose herself in the process. She couldn’t dare take a step down that path. Not even one.
LUKE STARED AT THE rippling water, debating a late swim in the closed pool. After four days of tension, four nights of inspirational talks, questions, challenges, too many guys trying to out-man him with a handshake and far too many young women looking for a fantasy, he wanted out. He was tired. He wanted a goddamned good night’s sleep. He wanted Sara. But she was busy, or trying to avoid him. He couldn’t tell which.
The only bright spot ahead was that he would be in the air in a couple of days. They had time off, not much, but he was going to make the most of it. He’d found a plane to rent, a Cessna, and he’d booked that sucker for a whole afternoon.
He missed the sky like a lover. That’s where he got it together, up there, and it didn’t matter if he was crawling along in a biplane or stealing all the speed at Mach II. Even when it was crap, and even when death was all he could smell, when the heat sucked the marrow from his bones, he could get okay at takeoff. He could think, he could relax, and he could let the annoying voice of his WSO wash over him because he knew Alf so well that Luke could tell unerringly when to tune in. Now he had to listen so damn carefully.
He shouldn’t have come on this tour. It served him right, and he had to be here, but dammit, he wished it could be different. Yeah, wishing had worked out so well for him in the past.
He’d been naive as hell to think there was any kind of redemption. It was what it was.
He glanced up at the sturdy pound of shoes, and he wasn’t surprised to see Mike O’Malley coming his way. They hadn’t talked much; O’Malley saved all his conversation for Sara.
“What are you doing up past your bedtime, flyboy? Thought a princess like you’d need all your beauty sleep.”
“It’s my night to give one up for the needy. You’ll get the card in the mail when it’s your turn to receive.”
“Oh, you’re breaking me up with that cutting, sophisticated humor.” O’Malley halted a few feet away, staring straight at Luke.
“What?”
“I didn’t say anything.” O’Malley’s mouth hardly moved, nothing about him moved that wasn’t essential.
“You’re going to, though.”
“I might.”
“If it’s about leaving Sara alone, I already got the message.”
Nothing. The bastard just kept staring at him. Luke wondered how long he could keep from blinking. “Look, I’m sure she told you about what an asshole I was to her after college. I was, okay? I admit it.”
“No question about it,” O’Malley said. “Not that I was going to mention it.”
Luke thought about jumping into the pool right now. He had another uniform ready in his room. The shoes might be an issue, though. “Fine. What were you going to
mention?”
“You showing up here out of nowhere. Your connection with Captain Weston. The timing was too neat, and it felt wrong.”
“Fair enough,” Luke said, wanting the man to get to the point, knowing he would take his sweet time.
“I asked a few questions. Put in a few calls.”
Luke’s gut tightened. This guy knew everything, according to Sara. Knew where all the bodies were buried. “And?”
“I got some unexpected information. Things I shouldn’t have seen. Classified reports.”
A chill ran down Luke’s spine. He didn’t have to ask what O’Malley was talking about. “Why the hell bother to call anything classified? You’re a goddamn master sergeant, not the fucking CIA.”
“The system isn’t perfect. There are still people involved.”
Luke nodded as the water shimmered. “People suck.”
“I’ve been in this air force a long time, son. I’ve seen my share and then some. Fortunately, my ears work better than my mouth. Understand?”
He wouldn’t tell Sara. Good. Sara didn’t need to know. It bothered Luke, though, that O’Malley knew. What had happened wouldn’t be a secret forever, he knew that, but here, on this tour, he’d wanted things kept quiet. God forbid Sara should find out what had really gone down. The investigators had said it hadn’t been pilot error. It had been made very, very clear that it had been a technical glitch. The investigators were wrong. He should have felt it. Should have been able to get back to base.
Luke met O’Malley’s gaze for a second before he looked into the pool again. “From what Sara’s told me about you, I know you can be discreet.”
“You being on this tour has made her question things. She’s smart as a whip, and she knows a lot of people, too.”
“Yeah. Well. There’s nothing I can do about that.”
“You could make a preemptive strike. What you did was first-rate, Captain, and it’s yours alone to tell it.”
