Ready for Anything, Anywhere!

by Beverly Barton

  Squatting in front of Jamie, Nikki tied the ribbons around his chubby wrist, her heart squeezing as tight as the knot over how darn cute her youngest brother was. She hitched him up onto her hip and snuggled him close while pointing out airplanes.

  Which took her eyes right back to the flyboys. Carson’s eyes held hers across the tarmac. No wink needed this time. She saw it in his eyes, a warming. He definitely wanted her. She shivered.

  “Are you cold, sweetie?” her mother asked.

  Totally scorching inside. And oooh, wasn’t that a tingly thought? Scorch inside her. “I’m fine, Mom, thanks. Just remembering how many times we’ve done this welcome-home gig.”

  And wasn’t that a nontingly thought?

  Then Carson’s gaze slid to Jamie and her heart squeezed tighter, more so when something bleak sent clouds chasing through Carson’s beautiful blue eyes. What could he want to talk about when they went sailing? They couldn’t be jumping to a superserious level this quickly, and frankly, she wasn’t sure she trusted him that much yet.

  Shoot, she wasn’t sure she trusted herself that much. None of which she needed to think about now anyway.

  The cargo planes slowed to a stop, side stairs and back hatches lowering until each clanked on the ground. The high noon sun reflected off the lumbering beasts. People packed the bleachers and milled around at the side, excited chatter the common denominator.

  How many of these had she waited through, waiting for her dad, holding her mom’s hand tight like now? How many more might she wait through for Carson? He stood to the side with the rest of the squadron at attention as the cargo hold full of green-suited bodies came into view.

  First down the ramp, a stretcher carrying Bronco. He’d made it through surgery, surprising everyone with his sturdy constitution by being cleared for transport to come home with his squadron. Never leave your wingman.

  He would spend a couple more weeks in the hospital here, but with his doctor wife to keep him on his toes, he would be fine. Joker strode beside him with his arm in a sling, his free arm extended for his fiancée.

  Yet even with the smiles there remained an underlying solemnity for the missing man. Gabby’s body had already been flown to the small Maine town where he and his wife had been high school sweethearts. The base had held a memorial ceremony that left her hands trembling, even now just remembering.

  And then from the middle of the mayhem emerged her burly father, big and alive, someone she’d alternately adored and resented all her life, depending on which country he parked himself in at the end of the day.

  She liked to think she was past those childhood hang-ups, but couldn’t ignore how messed up her life had become lately. She hated to think that her crush on Carson had been some sad father-figure deal. Ugh. Regardless, she knew her feelings for Carson were anything but familial.

  Her father pulled back from Rena and turned to his two adult children, little Jamie scooped up in one arm.

  “Hey, Daddy.” Nikki stepped into his open arm. “Welcome home.”

  “Thanks, baby girl.” He dropped a kiss on top of her head, a quiet stalwart man who somehow still left such a void of silence when he was away.

  She blinked back tears she refused to let mar this homecoming and stepped aside. Rena returned to J.T.’s side, so much love humming between them, Nikki inched farther away to give them more space even in public.

  Her mind winged back to her father’s return nearly two years ago after being shot down and captured, how her heart had been in her throat waiting for Carson, too. By letting Carson into her bed, yes, she was entertaining ideas of forever. She couldn’t ignore it. Some folks had a more casual approach to sex, and that was fine by her, but for her life, she simply wasn’t wired that way.

  She was well-equipped for military life, she understood it, she’d lived it. She knew all the jargon, headaches, heartaches—the joys, as well. Yes, she could handle this with her hands tied behind her back.

  But did she want to spend the rest of her life waiting on a tarmac with tears in her eyes?

  Carson hated waiting. And waiting to get Nikki alone this week had been hell.

  Only a couple more hours until duty could be placed on the back burner for the night. First, he had to finish inprocessing the returning squadron members—paperwork, customs, turn in medical records and equipment while the families passed time at an informal gathering inside the squadron briefing room.

  Not much longer and things would wind down. He strode through the corridor from his office back toward the buzz of voices. A door swung wide from the public bathroom. He dodged, just as Nikki stepped out.

  Thank you. A reward at the end of a killer week.

  He stepped closer without touching. “Hey you.”

  She smiled back. “Hey you.”

  “I’ve been going crazy this week wanting to see you.” He advanced again.

  Nikki stayed put, her smile full but her eyes … sad? “I understand you’re busy.”

  Did she want space? Jesus, he was thirty-five years old, way past college-type dating scenes. Honesty. If they didn’t go with that, then they were screwed.

  He cupped her elbow and ducked into his office, door still open but out of the mainstream of nosy folks. Clear for the moment, he allowed himself to move closer, near enough to exchange body heat as he flattened his hand on the wall behind her. “Just because I’m busy doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about you.”

  Her smile filled her eyes now, too, breezily confident Nikki meeting him one for one. On a sexual level they were able to communicate openly. “And what did you think about when I crossed your mind?”

  While they were being honest. “You usually crossed my mind naked.”

  “Totally?”

  “Would it be piggish of me if you were only wearing heels?”

  “Do-me pumps? Hmm. I may own a pair.”

  “Really?” He couldn’t disguise his surprise. She’d never been much for heels, but then her barefoot appeal turned him inside out more than any other woman in stilettos ever could.

  “No, I don’t.” Her grin went downright wicked. “But I will by this weekend.”

  He let his growl of appreciation rumble up and out as finally he got to be near her again. “How much longer until we can be alone?”

  “What color?”

  “Color?”

  “Heels.” Just below his neck, she toyed with the tab on his uniform zipper. “Since I’m shopping you can put in your order. Red or black? What’s your pleasure?”

  “You.” He canted closer, a whisper away from her lips glistening with a gloss he would have to kiss off soon. He ducked his head close to her ear to whisper, “And I very much want to be your pleasure once we’re out on the ocean, away from the rest of the world, no heels, no clothes, no outside worries. I wish it was summer so I could love you on the deck, out in the open, kissing every inch of your body while the sun does the same.”

  Her hot, panting breaths puffed over him. “Close the door. Now. Five minutes. Nobody’ll miss us.”

  His brain fogged with possibilities of what they could accomplish in five minutes.

  “Scorch?” a bass voice echoed down the hall.

  He hadn’t even heard anyone approaching. Jesus, he was far gone. Carson jerked, kicking himself for being reckless with Nikki’s reputation and glancing back over his shoulder to look at.

  The father of the woman he was just propositioning.

  Gulp. Carson braced. “Yes, sir?”

  J.T. frowned, stayed silent.

  Sir. Crap. Carson’s hand fisted on the door. He, a major, had just called a chief master sergeant sir. Officers did not call enlisted troops sir.

  But a man sure as hell said sir to the father of his girlfriend. So much for waiting for the perfect time to logically explain about his relationship with Nikki.

  They were so.

  So.

  Busted.

  Chapter 12

  She was so busted.

  Th
ree hours later tucking her little brother into bed, Nikki knew the confrontation was coming, even if her father had pretended nothing was wrong at the time. A quick unspoken agreement had zipped between the two men as readable as any newspaper.

  No scenes at the squadron. Not a surprise since she’d lived her life being told to wear her best face on base. Be a good reflection of her father. She knew the drill.

  Carson had backed away, his sexy proposition still echoing in her mind and pulsing heat through her veins. They’d returned to the gathering as if nothing happened—except that her dad had stuck to her side like glue until they drove home.

  She tucked the Bob the Builder sheets around her little brother in his new race car toddler bed. He already snoozed away on his stomach, diapered butt up in the air under the quilted spread.

  She glanced over her shoulder at her mom in a rocker with her swollen feet propped on the edge of the mattress. Nikki settled on the remaining patch of bed, next to her mother’s puffy toes. “Are you sure you don’t want me to keep him up at the apartment so you and Dad can have the run of the house?”

  Rena patted her rounded stomach. “I’m not so sure we’ll be doing any running, but we may take you up on the babysitting service for an afternoon sometime soon. For tonight, I think Jamie needs routine and to be near his daddy.”

  She totally understood and agreed. “People say kids are flexible, but I see in the classroom all the time how they thrive on structure.”

  “There’s so much about the military way of life that’s not normal for kids, I’ve always tried to keep what I could constant.”

  “I turned out okay for the most part.” Other than a dead ex-boyfriend.

  “I hope so.” Rena nudged Nikki’s hip with her crossed feet. “We’re certainly proud of you.”

  “Thanks. I’m trying my best, even if I screw up.”

  All that water retention in her mother’s toes tugged at Nikki’s heart as she thought of the grief she’d brought during an already stressful time. She may not have actually wielded whatever bashed in Gary’s skull, but she’d been on a self-destructive path for months.

  Could she trust her judgment to have magically improved now? “I’m sorry I’ve caused you and Dad so much heartache the past few months.”

  Her mother studied her through perceptive eyes, taking a slow swallow from her glass of ice water while a couple of trucks growled along the deserted night road outside. “Do you want to tell me what happened to send you into such a tail-spin last spring?”

  “Not really. Sorry.” Telling would only make her mother upset with Carson when their relationship was about to become public. Really public, if the frozen tension on her father’s face was anything to go by.

  She should say something to her father before bed, even though she and Carson had discussed speaking with her father in the morning. Her mother wouldn’t be surprised. She must suspect from how much time Carson had been spending around the house.

  Had she known before? That “Mom Radar” was a spooky, perceptive thing.

  Nikki refused to fidget like a kid. She was an adult. She didn’t need her parents’ permission, but she didn’t want to make things tough at work for Carson or her dad. “I should let you go so you and Dad can enjoy your reunion.”

  Rena showed no signs of budging from her comfy spot. “I can talk a little while longer. Your father’s busy for the moment anyway.”

  “Busy?” Uh-oh. Premonition trickled down her spine like the beads of condensation on her mother’s glass.

  “He’s out on the porch waiting to talk to Scorch.”

  “Sir, huh.”

  The sardonic words from an obviously pissed off papa echoed across the lawn as Carson opened his truck door in the Price driveway. Looming on the porch, J.T. pinned him with a shotgun-father look as piercing as any bullet, illuminated all too clearly by the lamppost.

  Carson finished stepping from his truck, not at all surprised to find J.T. waiting for him. They’d both known he would come by, an unspoken agreement.

  At least the irate father hadn’t made a scene at the squadron in front of everyone, because Carson damn well wouldn’t have stood for Nikki’s name being tossed around. As if she hadn’t already been through enough gossip lately.

  Thank God, her father apparently felt the same.

  But now, after all the welcome-home partying was done, there was no more evading the question that had dogged the man’s eyes throughout the evening.

  “About that ‘sir’ thing …” Carson climbed the front steps, meeting J.T. face-to-face. “You caught me unaware. My nanny ingrained in me young to respect my elders.”

  “Elders?” Biceps flexed inside his flight suit. “You’re really not getting on my good side today … sir. And I’m thinking it’s important to you to be on my good side.”

  No-damn-kidding. Nikki was tight with her family, one of the many things he respected about her, and he refused to cause friction in the Price household. “I don’t want to cause your daughter any grief and if you’re upset that would upset her very much.”

  A vein pulsed in J.T.’s temple, a bad sign from such a usually laid-back guy. “Is there something going on with you and my baby girl?”

  Baby girl?

  Carson exhaled a long stream of cloudy air. He was definitely too old for this. But then he was dating a much younger woman, and hell, he wished his own parents had given a crap about his sister. He searched for the right words, the whole tongue-tied feeling completely alien for him, but then choosing the right words had never felt so important.

  J.T. stepped closer, nose to nose and apparently more than a little miffed at Carson’s extended silence. “Sir, I’m finding it hard to remember you’re an officer. I’m finding it even tougher not to kick your ass off my porch.”

  “Go ahead. I was the one who peeled away the rank in there when I called you sir.”

  “It’s one thing if you’re seriously dating, but if you’re using her—”

  Anger snapped. “Hold it right there.” He didn’t get outright mad often, but then nothing was logical in his head when it came to Nikki. “I respect your daughter and count myself one lucky bastard that she chooses to be with me.”

  J.T. pivoted on his boot heels away, chewing on a curse worthy of the saltiest of crewdogs.

  Well damn. That was a little insulting.

  A lot insulting.

  He understood about the older man’s wish for a nonmilitary life for his kids, but hell, he wasn’t a total slouch.

  J.T. cricked his neck from side to side before turning back around. “Is this serious? And don’t tell me to ask her. I’m speaking with you.”

  Carson stepped alongside the old loadmaster and leaned his elbows on the porch railing while a rusted-out truck chugged past, exhaust mingling with the scent of mulchy leaves. He scrounged around for the right words to make this better for Nikki, for this man he’d flown combat with, a lasting bond. “I’ve heard you say for years no flyboys for your little girl. Was that bull?”

  “I want an easier life for her than this—” he gestured back and forth to their uniforms “—a husband who’s always gone, and getting shot at too often.”

  Husband. He didn’t even bother denying the possibility existed. He tried a different tack. “You’re speaking from a raw place right now because of the bombing and how close it hit.”

  “Could be.” J.T. nodded a concession, ever fair. “Still, the military makes relationships tough enough, and I suspect you’ve got some extra stresses mixed in battling a drinking problem.”

  Ah. The real reason he disapproved. Somehow the seasoned chief master sergeant had figured it out when no one else had. “What makes you think that?”

  “I don’t talk much, but I’m always watching, and you go out of your way to avoid drinking, overly so.”

  “Plenty of people don’t drink for any number of reasons.”

  “Are you telling me I’m wrong?”

  When it came to Nikki, he
needed to be honest every step of the way, because there wouldn’t be another chance with her. J.T. wasn’t the type to bandy the info around the squadron anyway. “You’re not wrong. I wouldn’t deny the problem if someone asked, but it’s also not something I choose to advertise. I’ve been working at this for a couple of years, been completely dry and in a program for seven months.”

  Had he sealed his fate with Nikki’s father? No hope for approval, ever? Entirely possible and totally more important than he’d expected.

  J.T. sagged onto his elbows alongside Carson. “Thank you for being so open. I know that wasn’t easy and it tells me you do care about my daughter.”

  Carson relaxed—for five whole seconds before he realized there was a but at the end of J.T.’s sentence. “And?”

  “I respect like hell that you’ve fought this and seem to be holding your head above water. But you have to know this isn’t something a father would wish for any child of his to live with.”

  “I agree.” He had the same fears but staying away from Nikki had just about torn them apart. They needed to work through this insanity one way or another. “I’ve tried my damnedest to keep my distance.”

  “Tried.” J.T.’s hands fisted before he continued, “Past tense?”

  “Again, I’ll say that I respect your daughter too much to discuss this further.” The guy couldn’t possibly want a blow-by-blow discussion. “Nikki’s an adult. She deserves to be present so she can speak for herself.”

  “That earned you a couple more points.”

  Of course the conversation would have been a surprise for her if she had been here. “Nikki doesn’t know about the drinking and I would appreciate it if you didn’t say anything until I have a chance to tell her.”

  A slow growl echoed from the burly loadmaster’s chest. “You’ve been seeing my daughter and you didn’t tell her? I can’t promise to keep quiet about that, and I’m actually reconsidering that ass kicking.”

  Well deserved. No denying. “I don’t mean for you to stay quiet forever. Just until tomorrow to give me a chance to tell her first. We’re going sailing.”

  “Twenty-four hours?” J.T.’s fists unfurled against his legs. “That, I can do, but the clock starts ticking now.”