Sign, SEAL, Deliver

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Sign, SEAL, Deliver Page 19

by Rogenna Brewer


  Standing outside the barn, she took a deep breath. The high-pitched hum of equipment told her he was inside working.

  She pushed on the door and discovered it was barred from the inside. “Zach?” She called out to him several times and tried pushing on the barn door again. She circled the barn for another way in—there were plenty of broken windows, but they were all too high.

  “Zach!” She tried the door again. This time there was a lull in the noise level. “Zach!”

  “Yeah?” he answered, but he didn’t come to the door.

  “Can you let me in?”

  “I’m kind of busy right now.”

  “I brought you some lunch.”

  “You can leave it outside.” The buzz started up again.

  Her jelly insides went still. She set the basket by the door and walked off. After a moment of hesitation she returned for the chilled champagne and one of the flutes. He could keep the folded napkins.

  MICHELLE FINISHED half the champagne by the time the grandfather clock in the hall struck mid night. She’d waited until her parents were sound asleep, then soaked in the hot tub with a glass of champagne, telling herself she was entitled to a little self-indulgence. After she’d stumbled up the stairs, she’d indulged in her third glass, one too many for her dizzy head.

  In the privacy of her bedroom she’d poured a fourth glass of the bubbly, slipping into a T-shirt and crawling between the sheets before she had the chance to drink it.

  Her head had barely hit the pillow when someone knocked on her window. She bolted upright in her canopy bed and looked around the room. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  But there it was again—a sound as familiar as this room. Pushing the covers aside, she climbed out of bed and padded across the floor.

  Somebody was pelting her window with stones!

  Throwing open the sash, she ducked just in time.

  “Incoming,” Zach warned a little too late.

  “Zach, what are you doing?” Michelle hissed.

  “Sorry ’bout that. I didn’t hit you, did I?”

  “No, but the gardener is going to chase you down with the hedge trimmers for getting his landscaping stones all over the yard.”

  “How will he know it’s me unless you tell him?” His challenge held a hint of amusement. Standing there staring up at her from the edge of the rose garden, he looked like an adorably rumpled Romeo.

  “I’ll tell him, all right,” she threatened.

  “You’ve never tattled on me before. As a matter of fact, I remember we shared quite a few secrets.” His voice turned velvet soft, his challenge as sultry as the hot summer breeze.

  She inhaled deeply. “What do you want?”

  “I brought your picnic basket.” He held it up.

  “Leave it, I’ll get it in the morning.”

  “Thing is, I got busy and forgot to eat. Thought maybe you’d like to join me. Seems Consuela packed enough for two.”

  She looked down at her oversize T-shirt, ran a hand through her mussed hair. “Now? Go away before you wake my parents.”

  “We’re not seventeen anymore, Michelle.”

  No kidding.

  “Get dressed and come down.”

  “I’m not coming down. I’ve had a rough day. And I’m a mess.”

  “I don’t care about any of that stuff. I’m coming up. Think this’ll still hold me?” he asked, testing the rose trellis beside her window.

  “Of course it won’t.” But it was already too late. He’d started to climb. “Zach!” She reached for her silk robe and put it on over her T-shirt.

  “Ouch, dammit. There are a lot more thorns on these roses than there used to be.”

  “That’s because there are a lot more roses.” She gasped as he grabbed those first tenuous hand-holds, then footholds, and inched his way up the rickety makeshift ladder.

  By the time he reached the windowsill, he’d ripped his hands to shreds.

  She heard a snap, and gasped again as his foot slipped.

  He grabbed on to the ledge and shoved the picnic basket through the window.

  “It would serve you right if you fell. You weigh at least a hundred pounds more than when you were a kid.” But to ensure that he didn’t, she reached out the window and grabbed his belt.

  They both turned at the sound of the next window being opened.

  “Zach?” her mother queried.

  “Yes, ma’am?” He dangled there as casually as if he were entering through the front door.

  “You’re both consenting adults now. I think it’s time you stopped sneaking in Michelle’s window.”

  “Mother…” Michelle said, shocked that her mother had known about Zach’s nocturnal visits all these years without saying a word. Of course, it wasn’t like anything had ever happened in her bedroom.

  Even though he didn’t appear to need the help, Michelle hauled Zach in by the belt and they both fell to the floor.

  “Well, I’m not doing that again.” He added, “Maybe” as an afterthought as he sat with his back against the window and smiled at her.

  Her jelly insides melted into a puddle. “Look at your hands,” she said, searching for a distraction. “All I do is patch you up these days.”

  “They’re fine.” He waved her off, taking one of the dove napkins from the top of the basket and wiping his hands.

  She leaned against the side of the bed and studied him from the safe distance. “My dad told me you quit the SEAL program.” I wanted to hear it from you. She left the accusation unsaid. He didn’t owe her any explanations.

  “I did more than that. I resigned my commission. For the first time in my life I’m a civilian.”

  “What?” She could barely comprehend the word.

  “Quite a shocker, huh?” He started to unpack the basket. “This looks like a picnic for two.”

  “Consuela must think you need to gain some weight. You are looking rather thin.”

  “Actually, I’ve gained weight. You wanna feel?” He flexed his biceps.

  “No.”

  “Come on,” he persuaded, taking her hand and placing it on his bulging muscle. “It takes a lot of work to get this definition. I’d like to know someone appreciates it.”

  She heaved a sigh and let her fingers trace the sleeve of his black T-shirt. “Is that what you do all day in that barn? Work out?”

  “Something like that.” He smiled. “I’m sorry I blew you off this afternoon. I hadn’t realized you’d packed lunch for two. You should have told me. I would have taken a break.”

  She pulled her hand back. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He held up the lone champagne flute. “I couldn’t figure out what this was for. But there’s the mate and the bottle.”

  Gotcha. He didn’t say it. But she reached for the glass she’d poured earlier and offered him the bottle to fill his, letting him know he’d won that round by default. “Cheers.”

  “You been up here drinking all night?”

  “Something like that.” She pulled her robe tighter.

  “Need some company?”

  The simple offer and the way he said it made her eyes sting. “Yes,” she said in a small voice. “It’s been a helluva few months.”

  “Tell me about it,” he said, laying out their picnic. He offered her an egg salad sandwich.

  She shook her head. “I wouldn’t trust it after twelve hours.”

  “I’ll take my chances, I’m starved.”

  “Then go for the PB and J,” she suggested.

  “Roger that,” he said, fishing out the peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

  She smiled at his pilot’s lingo, obviously so ingrained it had become a part of him. “Do you miss it?”

  “Sure, but I’m ready to move on. How about you?”

  “I don’t miss it at all. That’s what scares me. I couldn’t get in the cockpit of a fighter again, Zach. And now they want to give me my own command.”

  “It’s what
you’ve always wanted.”

  “It’s not what I’ve always wanted. It’s what I’ve always thought I should want. There’s a difference.” She looked into her glass. “You just walked away. I can’t imagine being a civilian, but I think I envy you.”

  “Then get out.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Sure it is.”

  “For you. If I walk away, they won’t look at me as an individual and say she wanted to do something different with her life. They’ll look at my sex and decide all women can’t handle it. I don’t want to be responsible for that.”

  “Then don’t be. Listen to yourself. You have options.” He looked at her over the sandwich. “You still want to fly?”

  “I miss the blue sky. And the feeling of freedom. This thing with Asad is getting out of control, too. My life isn’t my own anymore. I told them this was the end, but agreed to officiate at an air show tomorrow. Look what they faxed over this morning.” She handed him a script. “Asad is going to ask for his boon. The vice president gets a cute joke about that not being within his power to grant. And then look at my answer.” She could barely contain her hysteria. “Yes.”

  “There’s a simple solution.” He reached for the pen sitting on top of her journal and wrote No. “Unless you want to marry him.”

  “Of course I don’t. And I’ve told him that.”

  The corners of his mouth lifted.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  He shook his head, but he was. “If we were talking about a smart-ass pilot you would have cut him off at the knees. Maybe you’re trying to let Asad down too easy. But trust me on this. There is no way to soften the blow.”

  “So I’m supposed to stand up in front of thousands of spectators and humiliate him.”

  “Basically, yes. Or you can marry the guy.”

  “You’re no help,” she teased. Then turned serious. “I’ve missed you, Zach. I always thought we’d be friends forever. No matter what.”

  “Is that how you see us in thirty years? Still friends? Like our fathers?”

  “The best…the kind of friends who can pick up a conversation in the middle even if they haven’t seen each other in years…”

  He studied her face for a moment. “Sorry, Shelly, I can’t fill that role anymore. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  “Just like that?” Her jaw went slack. Her heart hammered her chest. “Will I ever see you again?”

  “I’m sure we’ll see each other. I just don’t want you to go on believing things are going to stay the same. I’ve changed. You’ve changed.”

  She took a swallow of champagne. “Is it because—”

  “Of one twelve-year-old lie?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m not happy about it. But I understand a little more than you might think.”

  “It started out as the truth. At least I believed I was—”

  “I know.”

  “I didn’t know how to stop things once they got started. We were making all those plans. It got so out of control.” Not unlike her life right now. “And I really wanted…” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “It felt like I’d lost a baby, like I was losing you, too.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “You never lost me, Michelle. Never. Had you told me, I might have had the chance to feel some relief. Maybe the same loss you felt, I don’t know. Instead, I felt like I wasn’t good enough for you. I still loved you, but I was afraid to touch you.”

  “We lost all those years because I lied.”

  His hand was gentle on her arm. “One lie wasn’t the problem. We never learned to communicate before we had sex. Sure we talked, we even listened. I could look into your eyes and know what you were thinking—”

  “And I could finish your sentences,” she broke in. “But sometimes I was really afraid of the connection…as if I’d lose myself in you.”

  “I did lose myself in you.” He swept his hand along the side of her face to tangle in her hair. “Not that I minded all that much. I landed on my feet. I’m happy. And I’m going for what I want.”

  “I’m glad, really.” But she felt a little sad, too, because it didn’t include her.

  “Think about what you want, Shelly. Now, drink up and I’ll tuck you into bed.”

  She polished off her champagne and crawled beneath the sheets.

  He tucked the covers up to her chin. “I actually have a fantasy that involves a room like this,” he teased her about the little-girl decor.

  Zach wasn’t quite sure if it was the champagne or desire shining in her eyes. He would have liked to take her up on the offer, but he simply kissed her forehead. And after packing up the picnic basket, he left.

  The admiral emerged from his bedroom at the same time. Clearing his throat, Michelle’s father said, “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “We were just talking,” Zach said. “There’s cherry pie in the basket.”

  “Sounds good.”

  They walked in silence to the kitchen, then started eating.

  “I wanted to give you this.” Zach pushed an envelope across the kitchen table. “Fair market value for that biplane. Prerestoration condition.”

  “You didn’t have to—”

  “My accountant suggested it. I’ve started my own business. Renegade Air. Air shows. Stunt work. The flexibility suits me.”

  “That sounds about right.” The admiral smiled. “How’d your dad take the news?”

  “He was pretty cool about it actually.”

  “Good to hear.”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow. Headed out to a paying gig in Hollywood.”

  “Michelle going with you?”

  “I don’t know. But I rewrote her script. I appreciate the heads-up.”

  1300 Monday

  AIR SHOW,

  Andrews Air Force Base, MD

  SHE’D WOKEN UP with a champagne hangover. Her first ever. And the first thing she’d seen was the script for today, the one that ended in Asad’s proposal. She’d wanted to pull the covers right over her head. How had she let this get so out of control?

  But then she’d picked up the sheet and read the single word Zach had penciled in. No.

  It really was that simple.

  At least she’d thought so until Asad stepped up to the mike and the crowd roared with applause.

  “This chit promises great rewards in exchange for helping an American serviceman or in this case, woman.” He held up the blood chit to more applause. “Payable to the bearer by the United States government. Mr. Vice President,” he continued, “I have decided on my boon.” More cheers erupted and Asad had to wait until the noise died down before continuing. “I can think of no greater reward than to have the very fighter pilot who fell to earth, Lieutenant Commander Michelle Dann, for my wife.”

  The roar was deafening.

  Michelle’s father squeezed her hand. He’d already told her what he thought of this fiasco, but she was determined to put an end to it once and for all. and the only way to do that was to let her voice be heard.

  The vice president had followed Asad to the mike. “Khanh Asad al Ra’id, on behalf of the people of the United States, I would like to thank you and your people.” He went into specifics and spoke too long. The crowd grew restless. “As you know, this great country was founded on the principles of freedom. Therefore, I’m afraid I can’t answer for Lieutenant Commander Dann. But whatever her answer, know that your service is appreciated.” He handed Asad a plaque and the press seized the photo opportunity.

  Michelle had to wait several more minutes. She smiled and waved and when she did, the crowd completely lost control. She took several deep breaths and waited for the noise to fade.

  But the decibel level escalated as several F/A-18 Hornets flew by, leaving red, white and blue jet streams in their wake. The Blue Angels. They’d been introduced to the crowd during their exhibition flight earlier, so the announcer didn’t say anything.

  Michelle felt as if she would faint if she couldn’t
get this mockery over with soon. Then another plane flew overhead. An ancient biplane with a banner that said, Marry Me. The crowd started chanting, “Yes, yes, yes…”

  Michelle cleared her throat. The mike squealed. She was about to open her mouth when she noticed that the biplane had started a vertical climb, which she knew would stall out the engine. For once the crowd’s attention wasn’t on her.

  The engine stalled and the biplane fell toward earth in a backward spiral. A hush fell over the crowd.

  The announcer’s frantic voice broke in. “Ladies and gentlemen, don’t try this one at home. You’re watching veteran flying ace Zach Prince in a maneuver he invented and perfected.” As the announcer’s voice faded, Zach did an over-the-top roll-out and the engines roared to life.

  He made a low pass over the runway, then came back for a landing. Moments later, he hopped out of the flashy red biplane.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Zach Prince!” Cheers erupted. “This former Navy hotshot has something he wants to ask his wingman.” It took the crowd quite a bit longer than Michelle to realize what that meant.

  Zach jogged across the field in her direction.

  Cameras flashed. Reporters were held back by crowd control. Michelle took one, two steps down from the podium and started at a more sedate pace toward him. When the gathered crowd realized they were going to meet in the middle, they started chanting again, “Yes, yes, yes…”

  She threw herself into his arms and the crowd noise faded into the background.

  “I love you, Michelle. Marry me.”

  He pulled out the ring she’d returned to him not that very long ago, and the crowd demanded that he get down on bended knee. He complied. “I thought about getting you a bigger ring. And then I thought about what this one represents. You’re my past, present and future, Michelle. My life always circles back to you. I would like to be the best friend and lover who’s always there for you. The husband who adores you. And the father of your children.” He got to his feet. “Will you do me the honor of being my wingman for life?”

  She was crying too hard to stop. And even though they couldn’t hear his words, the crowd answered for her, “Yes, yes, yes…”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’ll be your wingman. And your wife.”

 

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