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Blue Skies

Page 9

by Adrianne Byrd


  “Steven, what do you mean you’re not coming? It’s my birthday.” Sydney moaned into her cell phone as she collapsed onto her rock hard bed. “I was looking forward to seeing you.”

  “I was too, Syd. But Corrine’s parents are flying in this weekend. Her father already doesn’t like me so I have to be on my best behavior.”

  “What—are you going to pop the question or something?”

  Steven didn’t respond.

  Sydney’s eyes widened with shock and her grip tightened on the phone. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I bought the ring yesterday.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?” She bounced up off the bed, wishing he were there for her to hug. “I can’t believe it. You are getting married!”

  “Well, she hasn’t said yes, yet.”

  “She will if she has any sense.” Sydney spun around in as a small celebration. “Gosh, I wish I was there.”

  “Does this mean that you forgive me for not flying to Vegas for your birthday?”

  “Of course. I’ll be twenty-eight all year long. It just means that you’ll have to buy me a bigger present.”

  “Deal.” Her brother laughed and then quickly sang ‘happy birthday’ before ending their call.

  Sydney, of course, called her mother and shared the news. After a few excited screams, her mother inquired about her training.

  “You father would’ve been so proud of you,” her mother cooed.

  The words comforted Sydney.

  “Did you get the present I sent you?”

  “Yes. Thanks for the homemade cookies. I’ve eaten at least a dozen of them.”

  “Well, make sure that you share them with your friends.”

  Sydney nodded though she wanted to laugh. What friends? “I will, momma. In fact I better go. I’m going out with a few of them tonight,” she lied.

  “That’s nice, dear. You have fun.”

  Sydney disconnected and then wallowed in a pool of guilt even though, in this case, it was better to lie than let her mother fret about her daughter’s nonexistent social life. Tossing her cell phone onto the bed, Sydney glanced around the tiny room in despair.

  “Now what?” She thought for a moment and then answered herself. “Well, you can either sit here and sing happy birthday to yourself or you can go down to the strip and have your own celebration.”

  Frankly singing to herself had more appeal then hanging out with a bunch of strangers.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  Sydney glanced over and drew a blank to who her visitor could be. “Who is it?”

  “You’ll never believe it in a million years.”

  Her hand froze on the doorknob. “Lt. Colton?”

  “The one and only.”

  Sydney’s hand flew to her hair, which was a tumbled mess about her shoulders. “Err...uh, just a minute.” She pivoted around and darted to the bathroom where she quickly ran a brush through her hair. While she was at, she dug through her makeup bag for her lip-gloss so she would have some kind of color on her face.

  “Look, I know that you don’t want to let me in,” Jett shouted through the door.

  “No, no. It’s not that.” She ran from the bathroom and tripped over her bag she’d left by one of the chairs. She hit the floor with a loud, “Ooof!”

  “Hey, are you all right in there?” Jett asked.

  “Fine. I’m fine. I’m coming.” Sydney peeled herself off the floor and finished her dash to the door-unaware that her fall had unraveled her violent brush strokes.

  When the door finally swung open, Jett jump back in astonishment. Sydney, usually a very composed individual, looked damn near erotic with her hair tussled about her head.

  “Did I interrupt something?” he inquired as he stole a peek into the room over the top of her head. “Is this a bad time?”

  “No, no. I was just, uh, chillin’ out.”

  Jett frowned. Street slang sounded as natural to her as Queen Elizabeth. “Just chillin’, huh?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled, but had difficulty maintaining eye contact.

  A long silence lapsed while Jett grappled to remember his rehearsed speech. “Look, I know you’re probably wondering why I stopped by.”

  “Probably to rub in my face how I blew today’s test.” She crossed her arms. “It being your first chance to gloat and all.” Finally, their eyes met.

  “No.” The fact that she was purposely trying to start a fight wrangled a smile from Jett. “Actually, I came to call a truce.”

  “A truce?” Doubt edged lines into her forehead.

  “Yeah.” This time he dropped his gaze to study the blue carpet. “And I also wanted to apologize—for what I said about your father. It crossed the line.”

  That unnerving silence returned. When he looked up, it was only to see her averted eyes glossed with tears.

  “You’re the best pilot in the squadron. It has nothing to do with your sex. You’re just damn good.”

  Sydney’s cheeks darkened as though he was flirting with her.

  “And I’m sure that your father was a fine man.”

  She lifted her chin. “Not only that, he was a great pilot.”

  In that moment so much of the mystery that surrounded Captain Sydney Garrett was solved.

  “So.” Jett clasped his hands behind his back. “What are you doing this Friday evening?”

  “I—I, uhm.”

  She glanced around as if looking for something to rescue her from this moment. Jett wasn’t going to let her off so easy. “Because if you’re not doing anything, I was sort of hoping that I could cash in that rain check I have from our first date.”

  “I didn’t give you a rain check. You stood me up.”

  “A technicality.” Jett propped up his arm against the doorframe. “But it does appear that we’re both free tonight.” He was practically willing her in his head to say ‘yes’ and promising himself that this time he was going to do everything right.

  She glanced back into her room and again he wondered if someone else was in there—someone like Johnson. “I’m not dressed,” she said.

  His gaze raked over her clothes.

  “I mean—I’m not dressed to go out.”

  Sydney smiled and made his night. “How about I come back and pick you up in about an hour?”

  “Are you going to show up this time?”

  “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

  Her sexy smile slid wider. “All right. It’s a date.”

  “Good.” He straightened and gave her a wink. “I’ll see you in about an hour.”

  Sydney closed the door with a soft click and then leaned against it while she sang, “Happy birthday to me.”

  Chapter 15

  Sydney rushed to her closet and withdrew the beautiful red dress her mother sent for her birthday. Her eyes roamed the soft material while she imaged Jett’s reaction when he saw her it. After she whispered a ‘thank you’ to her mother, she hurried to the bathroom to get ready.

  During the whole time she got dressed, she tried her best to ignore the voice in her head, warning her to proceed with caution. After all, Jett had let her down a few times already.

  “I’m just going out to have a little fun because it’s my birthday,” she told her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Didn’t she deserve a night out on the town?

  But what if he kisses you again?

  She stopped in the middle of brushing her teeth and gave the question considerable thought. Her body warmed thinking about the last time he’d kissed. She remembered how all her thoughts turned fuzzy and how she’d melted in his arms.

  She hoped he would kiss her again.

  Sydney smiled at the delicious thought and then sped through the rest of her toiletries. Make up on, hair curled and dress on, she was finally ready to knock Jett’s socks off.

  Exactly one hour later, there was a knock on the door. At the sound, Sydney’s heart raced as if she was preparing for takeoff. In a strange way, maybe that wa
s exactly what she was doing.

  When she opened the door, Jett wasn’t the only one to gasp in surprise.

  “You look-” Jett’s beautiful golden eyes took their time as they roamed over her. “-ravishing.”

  Her entire body warmed at his approval. A part of her wondered why she felt and behaved like a love-struck teenager; but hadn’t he always had that effect on her, cheesy lines and all?

  “Shall we?” He offered her his arm.

  “Just a second.” She turned back into the apartment and located her purse. When she returned to the door, she slid her arm through his. “May I ask where we are going?”

  Jett shook his head and winked. “It’s a surprise.”

  Sydney smiled as she allowed him to lead her through the building.

  For a Friday night, most of the squadron had taken off for the weekend. But there was still a few who’d performed double takes and elbowed each other when they saw them together.

  “Looks like you have a few admirers,” Jett whispered at her.

  She doubted that. They were probably just stunned to see her in a dress. Jett continued the role as a gentleman when they reached the car and he opened her door. “You look like Jett Colton, but you’re certainly not acting like him.”

  He smiled and lightly tipped her chin up so she could meet his eyes. “This is a truce, remember?” He leaned down and brushed a kiss against her lips.

  The combination of the night’s warm breeze and his pillow-soft lips solicited a moan from her. When she realized what she’d done another flush of embarrassment burned her cheeks. “A truce then,” she agreed.

  Jett waited until she slid into her seat before he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. Starting up the car, he tossed another wink in her direction and pulled out of the lot.

  “So,” Jett turned off the radio. “How much flack you think we’re going to get when words get out we went on a date?”

  “A lot,” she answered truthfully. “Of course, most will think you’re trying to woo me so I would go a little easier on you the next I’m up against you.” Though it was a statement, Sydney lifted a single brow as if posing a question.

  “Damn.” Jett stretched in his seat. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  She smiled, but wasn’t sure whether her curiosity was sated.

  “Of course,” he continued. “They’re probably thinking you simply couldn’t resist my charms any longer and lured me away with that sexy dress so you can have your way with me.”

  She nearly choked on her laughter.

  “Hey. It’s not that funny.”

  “Oh, yes it is.”

  He glanced over at her with a sly smirk. “Then why did you agree to go out with me?”

  She thought a moment and weighed whether to tell him the truth. “It’s my birthday,” she admitted.

  He laughed at the notion. “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m serious.” She crossed her arms. “My brother canceled on me at the last moment. Then you showed up and I still wanted to celebrate so I figured that you would do in pinch.”

  “Ouch. You really know how hurt a brother.”

  She shrugged. “Well, I guess you did still owe me a date.”

  “Ah, so I did have a rain check? You know you could have called and told me.”

  “Just like you could have called while I was still waiting in that restaurant for hours like a fool that you couldn’t make it?”

  Jett winced. “Sorry. I-I got...sidetracked.”

  “What was her name?”

  He laughed at that but then realized that it was probably a natural conclusion. “It wasn’t a woman.”

  “Right.” Doubt dripped from Sydney’s voice as she turned and stared out of the window.

  “I was in Atlanta in July visiting my father. When I got to his house—after meeting you—I discovered that he was missing.”

  At the admission, he’d successful won her attention.

  “The whole house was ransacked so I started asking the neighbors questions and then friends, the police, and then finally strangers. I was worry sick and didn’t find him until something like two a.m.”

  “Where was he?” she asked in concern.

  “He was passed out drunk in the alley of some hole in the wall bar.” Jett drew in a deep breath as his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

  Sydney watched the tension tighten his jaw. At the same time her heart went out to him. Currently, he wasn’t the same man she’d known. The one sitting beside her now radiated a different kind of strength—and sadness.

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea,” she said, but it really sounded more like a whisper.

  Jett smiled but it looked more like a caricature of a smile. “How could you’ve known?”

  “I could have called and found out why you didn’t show up.” She remembered her anger that night—remembered all the names she had called him. Now, she felt guilty that she’d never given the man the benefit of the doubt.

  She reached over and gave a light squeeze to his arm. “Your father is lucky to have a son like you.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Oh.” Her hand fell away.

  “You two aren’t close?”

  Jett broke his silence with harsh laugh. “Hardly. The man can’t stand me.”

  His anguish caused another pinch to her heart.

  The car fell silent again and after brief while, Jett snapped out of his reverie. “Okay enough of that. I’m ruining your birthday. Since I know that a woman never tells her age-”

  “Twenty-eight,” Sydney said, perking up in her chair. She welcomed the change in topic. Not because it made her uncomfortable, but because of the effect it had on Jett.

  “Ah, you’re younger and you out rank me. Will the surprises never end?”

  “How are you?”

  He smiled. “Take a guess.”

  She studied him and hazarded a guess. “Thirty-five?”

  “What?” He exited the highway and then took a look at himself in the rearview mirror. “I look thirty-five already?”

  “No, no. Well...yes.” She winced. “Aren’t you?”

  “Thirty.”

  He pretended that his feelings were hurt, but Sydney caught the way his lips fluttered upward.

  “Sorry.” She played along. “Maybe you should look into get a face lift or something. You know they say the younger you start the better the results when you are over the hill.”

  “You’re a regular comedian, huh?”

  Sydney laughed and enjoyed their light banter. When they arrived at the Bellagio, Sydney worried whether he was taking her to another outrageous dance club. Her fears were subsided when they arrived, instead, at the Picasso restaurant.

  The place was a French-Mediterranean dream. Sydney thought of her mother as they were ushered past the large spray of flowers, paintings, and sculptures. It was as if she’d been dropped in the middle of fairy tale.

  “This place is gorgeous,” she whispered as Jett held out a chair at the table in a small intimate nook.

  “The food here is wonderful,” he informed her.

  “You’ve been here before?”

  “A few years ago.” He shrugged. “When I was stationed in California, Las Vegas became like a second home to me and some of my buddies.”

  Sydney couldn’t picture the Picasso being just a hang out for the ‘guys’ and jealously wondered if he’d brought another woman there.

  The waiter took their appetizer orders and brought out fresh bread. The conversation dwindled, but it was no longer the sort of awkward silence they’d experienced in the car. It was more comfortable and allowed Sydney to soak in the atmosphere.

  “Do you like Champagne?” Jett asked picking up the wine menu.

  “I don’t drink,” she said.

  “Not even on your birthday?”

  “Well...” She teetered on her decision.

  “The ’88 Salon,” Jett ordered and snapped the menu closed. “You ca
n’t have a celebration without wine.”

  He tossed her another wink and she found herself nodding in agreement.

  “So,” Jett leaned closer. “Tell me a little about yourself—outside of the military.”

  She laughed awkward, thinking that most of her identity was wrapped in her career. It was, as her brother always reminded her, what she lived and breathe for. “Well, I was born in Atlanta Georgia, but my family moved around a lot because my father’s military career. I have an older brother, Steven. I developed my love of flying from father—and my grandfather. I’m a World War II enthusiast as most fighter pilots. I graduated from the Academy in Colorado at the top of my class-”

  “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “Truce, remember?”

  “Sorry. Please continue.”

  “Actually, that’s about it,” she concluded as their wine arrived at the table.

  The waiter showcased the label.

  Jett nodded and returned his attention to Sydney. “What do you mean that’s it?”

 

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