Free Fall

by Karen Foley

  “Well, I have collateral duties as an operations officer,” he said, “which keeps me pretty busy when I’m not actually flying.”

  “So how many hours do you actually spend flying?”

  Jack shrugged. “I’m trained to fly from an aircraft carrier, but we obviously can’t be out at sea one hundred percent of the time. So while I’m here, I perform one or two flights per day. Each flight will last about two hours, but there’s a lot of prep work involved. The debrief only takes about thirty minutes, and then I have four or five hours to perform my collateral duties, take a break, go chow down, or whatever. If I’m scheduled for a second flight, then the whole routine starts all over again. The battle rhythm is a little different when we’re actually on a carrier, but that’s essentially it in a nutshell.”

  “Are you glad you became a pilot? Do you ever feel as if you’ve sacrificed something for your dream? I mean, you’ve obviously made a choice to put your career over a family, right?”

  Ah. Now they were getting somewhere. Is that what she really believed? That military guys didn’t make good husbands or fathers? It made sense, given her own history, and how her father had behaved. Hell, even his own dad had spent more time with the air force than he had with his family. The result was that his mother had had an affair, and his parents had eventually divorced. At twelve years old, his entire life had been turned upside down. Following the divorce, he’d been shipped off to Whidbey Island every summer. He’d loved those months he spent with his grandparents, but he’d been determined not to follow his father’s example. He fully intended to be a good husband. He’d made a promise to himself that if he ever married, he’d never be unfaithful, and he’d never give his wife a reason to turn to another man. He just hadn’t met a woman he’d wanted to commit a lifetime to.

  Until now.

  He couldn’t explain what it was about Maggie Copeland that called to him, but she appealed to him on a level that went deeper than mere sexual attraction. She appealed to him on a gut level. As soon as he’d seen her on the beach, something in him had recognized her, and responded. Maybe, subconsciously, he did remember her from that day on the dock. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  Physically, they were as perfect together as two people could be. Now he just had to convince her not to return to Chicago, or at least stay on Whidbey Island long enough to see that they could have a good thing together. Did he want to marry her? He wasn’t nearly ready to make that call, but he did know that he wanted to settle on Whidbey Island permanently. As much as he’d enjoyed growing up in Boulder, Colorado, he needed to be near the ocean, and coming back to Whidbey Island had felt like coming home.

  “I wouldn’t say I’ve chosen my career over a family,” he finally responded. “I’m only thirty-three, Maggie, so I still have time to meet someone and settle down. And as far as having sacrificed something? Absolutely not. I consider it an honor to fly for the navy. I’ve been doing it for twelve years, and I love it, but I’ve actually started to think about what I’d like to do beyond flying jets.”

  “And what have you thought about?”

  “That I’d like to start a charter business here on Whidbey Island, but instead of boats, I’d have a couple of small planes. I’d take folks back and forth to the other islands, or even to British Columbia.”

  Maggie considered him for a moment. “You really want to settle here permanently?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’ve known for years that this is where I want to raise a family. My grandparents left me some land just north of Oak Harbor, and I’ve already hired an architect to design a house for me.”

  Maggie looked at him in surprise. “Wow. That’s great,” she finally said, but her words lacked the ring of sincerity. “Where exactly is the property located?”

  “The lot overlooks Cornet Bay, not far from where this photo was taken. I decided to do a traditional post-and-beam-style house. Sort of seems appropriate, given the location.”

  “I agree. That whole part of the island is lovely.”

  “It sure is. I’ll take you out to the site one afternoon so you can see it for yourself. With your artistic eye, maybe you can give me some pointers on how to situate the house on the property in order to take advantage of the views.” He grinned. “I may also get a small place in California, say near La Jolla Beach, since I do love to ride a board, but that would be strictly for vacations.”

  Maggie’s voice sounded a little weak. “It sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

  “Oh, I have.” Jack paused. “What about you? Is Chicago where you want to be permanently?”

  He watched in fascination as a series of emotions flitted across her face. Uncertainty, distress, determination.

  “I’m not sure,” she finally said, raising her chin a little. “I’ve been out there for almost ten years, and I’m finally getting my own photography business up and running. I have a cute little place in Lincoln Park, but there are definitely times when I feel like a fish out of water.”

  “And your clientele includes new brides who likely won’t make it to their tenth wedding anniversary, isn’t that what you told me?”

  Maggie flashed him a resentful look. “Do you remember everything I told you?”

  He grinned, unabashed. “You bet. What I don’t get, though, is that you seemed so genuinely happy taking photographs of that orca whale, and I’ll bet good money that the pictures came out fantastic.”

  Maggie shrugged, but Jack could see his words pleased her. “They did come out well, actually. I developed them earlier today, and I got one photo of the whale coming almost completely out of the water. The detail is pretty incredible. So yes, I did enjoy taking those photos, but what does that have to do with anything?”

  “Well, I’d think you could make a killing selling your wildlife photos. Whidbey Island is where you grew up, where your roots are. Your brother is here, and it sounds like your mother still comes back here. I guess I’m just surprised that you don’t want to settle down here.”

  Maggie gave him a baleful look. “Not all my memories of Whidbey Island are as idyllic as yours, Jack.”

  “Maybe you just need to create some new memories.” He waggled his eyebrows meaningfully, but Maggie didn’t smile.

  “I couldn’t wait to get off this island.”

  Jack leaned forward. “But now that you’re back, you can’t tell me that you’re not the tiniest bit happy?”

  Maggie looked at him, and then away. “Of course I am,” she acknowledged reluctantly. “A lot has changed in ten years. I love being back in the shop, working with Carly, and it feels good to be home.”

  Jack was careful not to let her see the satisfaction he felt at her words. Just the fact that she used the word home gave him hope that perhaps she didn’t dislike Whidbey Island as much as she professed.

  “But you can’t see yourself living here on a permanent basis?” he persisted.

  “I don’t know, Jack.” She sounded resigned. “I’ve only been back for a couple of days. Yes, it feels good to be home, but that doesn’t mean I want to stay. I know there are all kinds of reasons to do so, not the least being that my new nieces or nephews will be living here. But could I really making a living out of shooting wildlife? And do I even want to? I just don’t know.”

  “People get married on Whidbey Island, too,” Jack said gently. “You could probably establish a clientele for your wedding photography here, the same as you did in Chicago. Who knows...the brides out here might be a little more grounded than your Chicago socialites.”

  To his surprise, Maggie pushed away from the table and surged to her feet. “Okay, you’re beginning to freak me out a little. You sound like everyone else who wants me to come back to Whidbey Island. I know that on the surface there seem to be a million reasons why I would want to leave Chicago and settle here,
but it’s not that easy, okay? I wish I could explain it to you, but I can’t, and I hope you won’t ask.” Looking around a little frantically, she pushed her hair back from her face, and Jack saw with a sense of shock that she was close to tears.

  “Maggie—”

  “Don’t.” She raised a hand to forestall whatever he might have said next. “Thank you for dinner. I’m sorry to be rude, but I have to go.”

  Jack had risen to his feet as soon as she’d stood up, and now he rounded the table to grasp her by the shoulders. “Maggie, don’t go. Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, believe me. Please don’t go, not like this.”

  She brushed a hand over her eyes and gave him a tremulous smile. “It’s not you, it’s me. That’s the standard response, right? Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I really do need to leave.”

  She broke free from his grasp and fled the house, leaving Jack to stare after her in bemusement. He heard the front door slam, and he could picture her running back up the path to the main house.

  He felt like a complete dick. He’d only wanted her to acknowledge that there were positive aspects to life on Whidbey Island, not cause her to have an emotional meltdown. He dragged in a deep breath and scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to decide what to do next. She might not welcome his intrusion, but he wouldn’t be able to relax until he checked on her. As much as he wanted to go after her immediately, he knew she’d need some time to compose herself.

  Hating himself for having caused her distress, he finally left the cottage and sprinted along the walk and knocked lightly on the back door. The kitchen was completely dark, and there was no answer. Stepping off the porch, Jack checked that Maggie’s car was still in the driveway, and then glanced at the second floor of the house. All the windows were dark, with no sign that anyone was home. He couldn’t believe she would have gone anywhere on foot, not at this hour, when the sun had already set. He suspected she was in her bedroom and was deliberately not answering his knock.

  Returning to the back door, he let himself into the kitchen and was just making his way toward the front staircase, when a flickering light at the back of the kitchen drew his attention. A red lightbulb was fixed over a closed door, and Jack realized this was the darkroom she had spoken of earlier. Instinctively, he knew she would be inside, and knocked softly on the panels.

  “Maggie? It’s Jack. Can I come in?”

  “Is the light on in the kitchen?” Her voice was muffled.

  “No,” he answered. “It’s completely dark out here.”

  He heard her moving around on the other side of the door, and then it opened just enough for her to reach out and yank him into the room, before she closed the door behind them.

  “I’m developing some prints and the tiniest amount of light could ruin the process,” she explained.

  It took a moment for Jack’s eyes to adjust to the muted red lighting inside the room. At the far end of the room, there was a long table, and he could see a deep sink, and several large trays of liquid that had a distinctly chemical odor. Floor-to-ceiling shelves stood to his left, bearing all kinds of supplies and equipment. Another table took up part of the wall to his right, where a large piece of equipment stood next to a tall cabinet of slender drawers. Several lengths of wire had been strung across the room, and photos hung from them like wet laundry on a clothesline.

  “Wow,” he said, impressed in spite of himself. “I’ve never been inside a darkroom before. You actually know how to use all this stuff?”

  “Well, it’s not like operating a fighter jet,” she said, and sounded amused.

  Jack finally looked at her, relieved to see that his fears hadn’t been realized. She wasn’t crying, and she didn’t look angry with him. If anything, she looked as if she’d been expecting him. And she’d worried that she was the predictable one. He gave a snort of laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “You.” Without giving her a chance to protest, he took her by the arms and pulled her close to him, studying her face in the eerie light of the red lightbulb. She watched him warily, but made no move to pull away. “I want to apologize again for what happened at dinner. I behaved like an ass, and I’m sorry. I just—” He broke off, uncertain how to continue.

  “You just—what?” she asked softly.

  He blew out a hard breath. “I just like you so damned much, and I can’t stand the thought of you leaving in less than three weeks. It was unfair of me to pressure you the way I did, and I’m sorry.”

  Maggie stroked a hand down his chest and ducked her head. “No, it was actually really sweet of you. I overreacted, and I’m sorry I ran out on you.” Looking back up at him, she gave him a small smile. “I like you, too, and while Chicago might not be perfect for me, I’m not sure Whidbey Island is, either. But I’m not ready to make any decisions about my future. Not yet. I just need you to know that.”

  It wasn’t what Jack wanted to hear, but he knew better than to argue with her right now. Instead, he slid his hands beneath her hair and smoothed his thumbs across her cheeks.

  “I get it,” he assured her. “I’ll stop promoting the virtues of life on Whidbey Island. But I won’t stop trying to convince you to stay.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and just like that the air between them changed. “What methods did you have in mind?”

  “I thought I’d start with this,” he murmured, and knew she could feel his heart thumping hard beneath her palm as he dipped his head and kissed her, a soft, sweet kiss that he hoped conveyed just how he felt about her.

  To his delight, she returned the kiss with a fervent passion, as if she was afraid he might change his mind.

  As if.

  No freaking way was he about to do that. He deepened the kiss, sliding his hands around to her back and pulling her fully against his body. She tasted like sweet wine, and he wanted to devour her. She made a sound of approval in her throat and wound her arms around his neck, tunneling her fingers through his hair.

  This is what he’d thought of all day; this woman in his arms, her mouth beneath his, her body responding to him because she couldn’t help herself. She could fool herself into thinking she didn’t want to return to her childhood home, but she couldn’t fool herself about the connection they had.

  She broke the kiss, pushing back enough to get her hands beneath his T-shirt and push it upward. Jack helped her by reaching behind his head to grasp a handful of fabric and drag the shirt off. Maggie’s hands were everywhere, touching and exploring whatever part of him she could reach. Jack reciprocated by unfastening the buttons on her blouse until it fell open, revealing the white bra she wore underneath. It wasn’t an erotic undergarment by any stretch of the imagination, but the sight of her smooth, pale flesh was a complete turn-on, and Jack thought he’d never seen a woman look as sexy in a simple bra as she did.

  “Take this off,” he said, his voice gruff.

  Maggie complied, shrugging the shirt off until she stood in just her jeans and bra. Jack stroked the back of his knuckles along the side of her neck and over the fragile line of her collarbone, lingering on the small pulse that thrummed frantically at the base of her throat.

  “Are you nervous?”

  She shook her head. “No. Yes.”

  Jack laughed softly. “Come here.”

  “Wait. I want to see you.” Her hands went to the snap on his jeans, unfastening it with fingers that trembled. She slid the zip down, and then pushed both his jeans and the boxers down over his hips, freeing his erection. With a soft “oh” of admiration, she curled her fingers around him, squeezing gently. Jack groaned and leaned back, gripping the edge of the table for support.

  “Maggie...”

  “Does that feel good?” She slid one hand over him, stroking his length. She smoothed her free hand over
his abdomen and chest, even as she leaned forward and placed teasing kisses along his jaw and the seam of his lips. “Because it feels good to me.”

  “Oh, yeah,” he breathed, watching her. “That feels incredible.”

  “Good. Because ever since last night, all I’ve been able to think about is you...of being with you again.” She dragged her lips along the side of his throat, causing him to shudder lightly with sensation. “I know I shouldn’t, because it’s not fair to either of us, but I just can’t help myself.”

  “What’s not fair is that you’re still dressed,” he managed to say through gritted teeth. “I want to be inside you, Maggie.”

  “Do you have protection?” Her voice was breathy and high.

  Jack cursed softly. He hadn’t even thought about bringing a condom with him. He hadn’t planned this; had only wanted to make sure she was okay. “I can run back to the cottage,” he said, lightly running his hands over her cheeks and ears. “It’ll only take a minute.”

  “I don’t want to wait that long,” she protested. “I want you now.”

  “You’re killing me,” Jack groaned. “We can’t—”

  “Shh,” she said, and raised herself up to press a soft, moist kiss against his mouth. “Trust me.”

  Jack stared at her for a moment, and then sagged back against the table, surrendering himself to her. “I trust you,” he replied.

  Her smile was one of satisfaction and anticipation as she pressed a kiss against the center of his chest and slowly began working her way down his body, touching him lightly with her lips and tongue. When he realized her intent, lust ricocheted through him, causing him to swell even more beneath her fingers.

  She was crouched in front of him now, holding him in her hand as she looked up at him. “Tell me what you like,” she whispered. “I want to make this good for you.”

  “Sweetheart,” he rasped, “this is already so good, I’m on the verge of losing it.”