FALCON: Resistance (KBS Next Generation Book 1)

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FALCON: Resistance (KBS Next Generation Book 1) Page 17

by Victoria Danann


  “Looks incredibly complicated.” Falcon felt his chest swell with pride. He was going to give her an experience she’d never get from anybody else. “But you look right at home.” He smirked. “And a little cocky.”

  As they lifted off he said, “They don’t call it the cockpit for nothing.”

  She wanted to retort, but she was too busy trying to convince her stomach that it belonged at her waistline and not her throat. At least she didn’t embarrass herself by screaming.

  When they were away from the base, he turned the whister toward Manhattan. “So. You said you wanted to see New York.”

  Amazingly, it only took a couple of minutes to get used to the sensation of flying. Wonder overcame anxiety as she refocused her attention on the view of the world from that altitude seen through the glass bubble of the whister’s front end.

  She could see the skyline of New York in the distance as soon as they’d turned that direction. “I did!” She giggled. “But I never thought in a hundred years that I’d see it like this.”

  “Well, just think of this as an overview!” She chuckled at the pun. “I intend to show you New York in all the usual ways, too. But today you asked me for a surprise. And you’re going to get it.”

  She gaped. “You mean there’s more?”

  He laughed. “Don’t be greedy. But yeah. There’s more. First though, you’re gonna get the ‘circle tour’ from the air.”

  He pointed out the sights as he flew over them. Their route approached from the south flying over Statue of Liberty island in the Hudson River, over Battery Park and the Stock Exchange and took a sharp turn to the right.

  He headed up the east side of Manhattan over the Brooklyn Bridge, the Manhattan Bridge and the Williamsburg Bridge, then flew north of the Empire State Building so that she could see Central Park from the air. It wasn’t easy to get a permit to fly over the park, but there wasn’t any such thing as a string that couldn’t be pulled by Black Swan.

  He swung by Yankee Stadium and then followed the Hudson River north. Gretchen was like a child in a toy store. There was no disguising the joy of the experience.

  “Where are we going now?” she asked. Her eyes were so bright, her cheeks so pink, the thought flitted across Falcon’s mind that he could dedicate his life to finding ways to put that look on her face.

  “We’re going to a place close to Woodstock.”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “The Woodstock?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, but not for drugs, sex, and rock and roll.” He rethought that. “At least, not for drugs and rock and roll.” She rolled her eyes. “We’re doing a fall foliage picnic.”

  She looked around and saw that it didn’t take long to leave Gotham, industry, and parking lots behind. Up ahead she could already see nature presenting colors en masse. And it was gorgeous.

  “It’s too beautiful,” she said, looking north toward what was to come.

  “People come to New England from all over the world to see the leaves at this time of year, but not many people get to see it like this. Most of them see the leaves from gridlock, stop and go traffic, mostly in busses.”

  She looked at his profile. “I feel privileged, Sir Knight.”

  He smiled. “Anything for you, my lady.”

  When they set down in the field near the old stone manor house, Gretchen thought it could possibly be the most idyllic spot on earth. The lake was navy blue and so calm it looked like glass, especially since it reflected the bright colors of the trees on the banks. The grass was bejeweled with dots of fall wildflowers.

  After cutting the engine, he said, “How about a row on the lake before lunch?”

  And she’d just been thinking it couldn’t possibly get any better.

  He helped her out of the whister. When she stepped away and looked around, she said, “Is this heaven?”

  He laughed. “We did catch a break on weather. It’s practically…”

  “…perfect,” she said, but it was his turn to feel awkward when he saw that she was looking at him.

  “You know how to swim?”

  “My mother kept every ribbon and trophy from swim team to prove it. But I don’t like cold water. So don’t dump us!”

  “Damn. You just ruined my plans.” She slanted her eyes toward him as he started shaking his head. “Just kidding. I don’t like cold water either. So let’s go out on the lake for a little and then we’ll come back and have lunch.”

  She grinned. “Sounds good.”

  The water was high enough that Gretchen could step off the small pier and into the canoe while Falcon held onto it.

  “You’re not lying about being able to swim, right?” he said. “Because I don’t have life jackets.”

  She harumphed. While he was climbing into the back end of the canoe, she said, “You worry about yourself. You could probably swim faster than I can, but I’m betting I’d still be going long after you’d sunk like a stone.”

  He chuckled. “Well, then the only other worry is, do you know how to row?”

  He pushed away from the pier with a paddle.

  “Um, row?”

  “Yeah. That’s what I figured. It’s not hard when there’s no resistance. Like here. Today.” He shoved the second paddle toward the front of the canoe. “There are two tricks to this. We need to cooperate and compliment each other with our rowing. Like a team.”

  “What’s the second trick?”

  “Don’t lose the paddle.”

  “Ha. Funny. So, okay, what do I do?”

  “You’ve seen people row. Just take the paddle and give it a try.”

  She dipped the wide end into the water and swept the paddle back.

  “See?” he said. “You look like a pro.”

  “I’m going to match my rowing to what you’re doing. If you paddle once on the right side, I’ll paddle once on the left side. If you paddle twice, I’ll paddle twice and I’ll adjust the pressure I use so that we’re going straight in the water.”

  “So,” she said, starting to get the hang of the rowing, “you’ve done this a lot?”

  “I wouldn’t say a lot, no. I went to summer camp for a few years before I was recruited.”

  “Your family must have been well off.”

  There was a long pause before he said, “Materially.”

  Gretchen took the hint that he didn’t want to talk about family.

  They rowed in silence until they reached the middle of the small lake. Gretchen pulled her paddle in and sat for a minute looking around. They hadn’t heard a truck engine or an airplane or another voice. They hadn’t seen a sign of another person.

  “This could be heaven,” she said. “I mean I don’t really see how anything could be better.”

  Likewise, Falcon rested his paddle and reveled in the pristine perfection of the moment, thinking he would burn it into his memory.

  “Thank you,” she said. “This has been incredible.”

  He smiled. “You hungry?”

  She looked over her shoulder. “I will be by the time we get back to the pier. Thirsty, too. So how do we turn around?”

  “You just sit your pretty ass right there and watch.”

  Falcon pulled his paddle to his right side, which was stronger and had them facing the old stone house and the whister in less than a minute.

  She laughed. “You’re great at this! You could be one of those field and stream guides.”

  “Thank you, but I think the guys you mean have a little stronger skill set than being able to row a canoe.”

  “Yeah? Well how many of them can fly a whister?”

  “Not many,” he admitted. “Whisters are pretty pricey for use for hunting and fishing.”

  “Hunting and fishing?” She started shaking her head. “No. I didn’t mean hunting and fishing. I meant you could be a perfect day guide.”

  “Those are known as gigolos.” She got her hand wet and flicked a few drops behind her. “You do not want to start a water war. Remember, we don’t have a chan
ge of clothes. We’d have to strip down and wear blankets home.”

  “Enough said.”

  “I thought so.”

  “So what’s for lunch?”

  “Brought a variety because I don’t know your favorite things yet. What do you like?”

  “I like a lot of stuff that’s not supposed to be good for people to eat.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, you already know I like desserts. I like pretty much anything deep fried, anything covered with cheese, or stuffed with cheese. Like enchiladas. I’m wild about Irish pub food.”

  “So that’s what you eat mostly?”

  “Gods no! You asked what I like, not what I eat! I eat fruits and vegetables whether I want to or not. I eat white fish so long as it doesn’t smell like fish, beef no more than once a week. I eat it in the form of a hamburger almost a hundred percent of the time. The rest of the time I eat chicken, chicken, and more chicken. Salad, salad, and more salad.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do I eat those things?”

  “Yes. Why don’t you have what you want?”

  “Are you serious?” When he didn’t say anything, she reasoned that meant that he probably was. She was beginning to think that perhaps Falcon didn’t have a lot of experience with women. “Well, if I ate what I wanted all the time, I wouldn’t fit inside the Whister and then how would you take me on a perfect date?”

  “So when I said what I did that night…”

  “Did it hit a nerve? Yeah. It did.”

  “Guess I’m lucky you’re the forgiving kind.”

  She almost told him that she wasn’t the forgiving kind at all. The whole reason why they were enjoying a fall foliage date was because Kris Falcon had made himself one very, very good friend. But she didn’t.

  When Falcon maneuvered the canoe alongside the pier, he held the boat steady so that she could climb up onto the pier without incident. He pulled himself up after her and secured the boat.

  “Whose place is this anyway?” she asked, looking at the house.

  “Belongs to us. I mean, Black Swan.”

  “The house is empty?”

  “Yes. But we’re not going over there.”

  There was something about the way he said it, that tweaked her curious side. “Why not?”

  He threw his arm around her and guided her back toward where he’d landed the whister. “Come on. Food’s in the bird.”

  She didn’t resist walking back to the whister, but she did say, “What’s wrong with the house?”

  “There were reports of disturbances from time to time. I promised Glen we wouldn’t go near there.”

  She jerked her head back toward the house. “Huh.”

  He pulled out the blankets and handed them to her then took the basket and started walking up the hill away from the house. She followed.

  “How about you? What do you like to eat?”

  “I’m easy. I like pretty much everything. It’d be easier to say what I don’t like.”

  “Okay. What don’t you like?”

  “Clams. Beets. Hot dogs.”

  She giggled. “You don’t like hot dogs? Not even if you smother them in cheese and chili and onions?”

  “There’s nothing that could be done to a hot dog that would change my mind.”

  “Ooh. A challenge.”

  “No. That is not a challenge.”

  Ignoring that, she said, “What are your favorites?”

  “Favorites. Okay. I like steak smothered in onions. You know, the kind with that thick brown gravy?” He looked over at her and she nodded. He stopped. “How about here?”

  He’d come to a stop on a rise that flattened out a little bit. They were up above the field, the house, the lake, the trees, and the whister.

  “Couldn’t be better.”

  He set the basket down and took one of the blankets from her. Shaking it out, he spread the first blanket on the ground. “Now this will be your blanket here. Mine will be right over there.”

  She laughed and threw the remaining blankets down on a corner of the one he spread. “Why do we have so many?”

  “So you could pick the color you like best.”

  “Wow. You really did think of everything.”

  He knelt down next to the basket. “And now for the true test of masterminding. Drum roll please.”

  “Forget the drum roll. What I want to know is if you have bread rolls or drumsticks in there.”

  He grinned. “Affirmative on both counts. We have bread rolls and drumsticks.” He pulled a container out of the basket. “Fried chicken.”

  “No way.”

  “Yep. Deep fried to absolute greasy perfection. We also have California rolls…”

  “Show me the chicken.” He opened the lid then chuckled when she scrambled across the blanket to look inside. “Ugh! It has to be a sin for chicken to look and smell that good.”

  With a soft chuckle, Falcon silently gave thanks to Krisp.

  “What else you got in there? That’s a really big basket.”

  “Well, let’s see. A thing of cut fruit. A thing of fresh veggies with dips. Bread things.” He pulled two bottles of wine from the side of the basket that disguised a cooler. “White. And red.”

  “You can’t drink wine and fly us back in that complicated piece of airborne wizardry.”

  “Right. The wine is for you! The water is for me.”

  “You brought two bottles of wine for me?” She squinted at him.

  “I didn’t know if you’d want white or red. And it’s hard to order by the glass out here.”

  “Good point.”

  Using her index finger she did eeny meeny miney mo and decided on, “White!”

  “Your eeny meeny put you on red.”

  “I know, but half way into it I decided I’d rather spill white on this cashmere sweater than red.”

  “Do you spill a lot of wine?”

  “Not sure what you mean by a lot, but outside of swimming, I might not be the most coordinated person in the world.”

  He laughed. “White it is. I like a woman who’s self-aware. Now for dessert…”

  “There’s dessert, too?” She moaned. “You’re trying to kill me. Or my diet. Not sure which.”

  “Trying to please, Gretchen.”

  She stopped the kidding and looked him in the face. “You are, Falcon.”

  He thought they might be experiencing a moment, but after a few seconds she looked at the wine he was holding.

  “Just give me the bottle.”

  His lips parted on a surprised little smile. “Give you the bottle?”

  She looked around. “There’s nobody else around and I’m the only one drinking out of the bottle. Since there’s much less chance of spillage, it seems like a good idea to me.”

  He uncorked the wine and handed her the bottle. When she put it to her lips and turned it up, he thought he might be falling a little bit in love.

  “Falcon, I will not talk about how good this wine is, because you’re designated driver.”

  “Okay. I’ll just assume it’s not any good.”

  “Um-hum,” she said as she turned it up again. “Good assumption. So which pieces are your favorites?”

  “Ladies’ choice.”

  “Really? You’re too kind. I like wings and breasts.”

  “I’m a breast man myself.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Saw that one coming a mile away.”

  “You’re a hard room, Director. There are two breasts in here. One for you. One for me. You can have both the wings.”

  “Deal. Let’s break out the fruit and veggies just so we can say we did.”

  ‘Yes, ma’am.”

  “What were you saying about desserts?”

  “Oh. There’s an entire home made apple pie in here with two forks.”

  “You are the devil.”

  “I am. And you like it.”

  Yeah. I do. “Just give me the two wings. I’m saving room for pie.”
<
br />   He shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “Having a Black Swan knight submit to whatever you want?”

  “No. Having you submit to whatever I want.”

  To her amazement, he smiled like that might actually be okay with him.

  They ate chicken and sides, soaked in the exceptionally beautiful weather, and the idyllic view. As they ate they talked about silly things and personal preferences.

  When Falcon unveiled the pie and handed her a fork, he said, “You ever been in love?”

  That came on the tail of a brief discussion of horror movies.

  “No. I had some schoolgirl crushes and a couple of college things that lasted a few months, but something was always… I don’t know, missing?” He nodded, looking down at the pie. “You?”

  “Thought I was. Maybe. But like you said, I guess it was an infatuation.” He looked up at her just as she put a bite in her mouth. She noticed that he was watching the movement of her lips with interest. “Do you see yourself in a picket fence scenario someday? Kids and stuff?” Gretchen laughed. “What’s funny?”

  “Role reversal.” He looked confused and shook his head slightly to let her know he wasn’t following. “Those are questions usually put forward by women. No. Not usually. Always. You may be the first man in the history of men to bring that up.”

  “I guess I’m unfurling my freak flag.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Deflection. You didn’t answer the question.”

  “Um. Well, I’ve kind of been focused on career. I don’t see me doing a picket fence thing. I’m not ruling kids out, but I don’t want to short change anybody. I mean, maybe some day I won’t want to work like I do now. Just don’t know what the future holds. What about you?”

  “I don’t want to close any doors. I’m open to possibilities.” He glanced down at his watch. “I guess it’s true that time flies when you’re having fun. We gotta go.”

  “Wait. There’s more pie.”

  He looked down at the half eaten pie. “We can finish it at my place, but it’s not what I really want.”

  “What do you really want?” she asked innocently.

  Falcon’s responding smile was anything but innocent. He set the pie and forks aside and began crawling toward her. She shrieked and scooted back, but he pinned her to the blanket. While she laughed, he held her wrists and kept her in place with the weight of his body.

 

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