Accidentally in Love with the Pilot

by Teri Anne Stanley

  A light glinted off Megan’s ring, and she realized a spotlight was shining on her, but she barely noticed, because Ben was smiling at her.

  The announcer continued, “Every now and then, one of these marriages doesn’t end in a return trip for a quickie divorce.”

  Ben’s head whipped toward the announcer. Apparently he hadn’t expected that ad-libbing, but then he shrugged and returned his attention to Megan.

  She was gobsmacked. Her reserved, quiet pilot was standing on a stage in the middle of a biker convention wearing a rainbow of crazy. And then he got down on one knee.

  …

  Someone handed him a microphone. Ben swallowed. He had no idea what he was going to say. How many times had he dreamed about giving a book report for a book he hadn’t read while standing in front of the class in his underwear?

  How many times had he remembered—and regretted—standing on that front porch, watching his dad walk away? Even if it hadn’t been his failure to speak that had kept his dad away, he wished he could have let the man know he loved him before he died.

  Well, he wasn’t going to let fear, regret, and overactive adrenaline glands stop him now.

  The crowd had been silent, but was beginning to rumble.

  He only had to look out at Megan, with her bright shining eyes staring up at him, to say, “Megan, it was a total fluke that I walked into your birthday party three weeks ago, and a bigger stroke of luck you stuck around afterward to have a drink with this social disaster.

  “We don’t remember getting married,” he said, and the crowd laughed. “But spent two weeks together anyway. That was on purpose. What was a total accident was how hard I fell in love with you.”

  Megan was on her feet now, urged forward by her brothers on each side of her, standing in front of the stage.

  “Megan Wallace Shuttlekrump, you’ve made me a better person— The odds were against us, but here I am, wearing your costume in front of God and everyone.”

  “And your mama and your Nana,” came a loud, strong voice from the darkness.

  Dear God. Ben nearly lost his balance, looking out into the crowd.

  “You know,” Nana said, “they have direct flights that get you here from Memphis in no time at all.”

  What had made him call his mother to tell her what he was planning?

  “That’s okay, baby,” Nana said, “We’ll meet your wife later.”

  The crowd laughed, and he looked back down at the woman of his dreams.

  “Anyway, I love you,” he said. “Will you stay Megan Rutledge?”

  And then she was crying and nodding, he was climbing down from the stage, and people were applauding and cheering. All Ben knew was his arms were full of warm, soft woman, and his world was perfect.

  Except he couldn’t kiss her, because every time he leaned in, he bumped—

  “What the heck is this?” She tapped his head.

  He pulled off his makeshift helmet. “I had everything I needed for the Kit and Kaboodle contest except a helmet,” he told everyone. “So my new friend Sean—”

  “That’s me,” said the kid in the eagle jacket.

  “Sean made me a helmet.”

  “It used to be a pretzel bowl,” Sean said, in case no one recognized the upside-down plastic container in Ben’s hand.

  “It’s yellow,” Ben explained. “Like the sun.”

  “It’s, um, lovely,” Megan said, giggling.

  “I think you should keep it as a wedding gift,” Sean told them.

  “We’ll check with the casino and see if we can work that out,” one of Megan’s brothers told him.

  “We’ve got a lot to figure out,” Ben told Megan. “This’ll be hard. I’m gone so much. But I will come back. I am not a leaver.”

  “That’s okay. I stay pretty busy,” she told him. “And maybe we can find a way for me to visit San Diego so you don’t have to come home to this all the time.” She waved, to indicate her family. “I know they—”

  He sighed, because he hated that she believed her family had scared him off. “They are kind of a circus,” he said, to more laughter. “But as long as I don’t have to perform, they’re great.”

  She opened her mouth as if to argue.

  “Trust me,” he said. After a long moment, she nodded, and he knew she was agreeing to trust him about much more than his feelings for her family. She was trusting that he loved her enough, and she loved him enough, to make it work.

  “You can go to San Diego as often as you need,” her dad said. “You’re going to cut back on your family duties. You do too much as it is.”

  Her forehead creased, and she protested, “But I love you guys. I need to—”

  “No.” Her mom shook her head. “You need to be you. We are all going to love you no matter what you choose to do with your life, and no matter where you choose to do it.” There was a chorus of agreement from the family gathered around them, and Ben’s heart overflowed as everyone assured Megan they wanted her to follow her dreams.

  He was tempted to pull back and let Megan and her family talk, but he was all brave and everything now, so he cleared his throat and said, “I hate to interrupt, but I need to introduce Megan to someone.”

  “Here we are!”

  He saw Nana working her way between the tables, followed by his mom, who met his eye and shrugged apologetically.

  He wasn’t sorry. He had everyone he needed right here, and he wasn’t going to let any of them go again.

  Epilogue

  Megan snipped the final thread on the leotard she was embellishing for her niece’s dance troupe. She put it in the box with the others and stretched.

  She checked her phone, but still no text from Ben. He was due back from his latest mission and had promised to call her the minute he was free.

  And so she constantly checked her phone, even though experience had taught her that no matter when he thought he might get back, he’d be later.

  She should start on the next costume and keep her hands and mind busy. There were only six more to go, and then she could start designing the next set. She was constantly amazed at her luck.

  She hadn’t won the bike expo contest—that prize had gone to the leather and lace people—but she had been featured in a segment on KSNV, the local NBC affiliate. A couple of mothers had seen her, realized she was related to one of their dancers, and asked if she’d consider something as mundane as making outfits for aspiring ballerinas.

  Megan hadn’t just considered it, she’d found she really liked working with the kids. Sometimes she even liked their parents. She got to do what she loved, and it paid pretty well, which was icing on the cake. Who knew that living in a city with so much glitz and glamour would make dance moms even more competitive than the kind on reality TV?

  The doorknob of her apartment rattled, startling her into standing up and grabbing an armful of costumes, as if that would protect her.

  “It’s me. Sorry to scare you.”

  It was Ben. Here. In person. Not at the other end of the phone in San Diego.

  “Ben!” She skipped toward him, still clutching the armful of costumes. He caught her in his arms, holding on to her and her bundle of fabric. Several long, drugging kisses later, they came up for air, and he reluctantly stepped back from her. “How did you get here?”

  “The usual way,” he said. “I drove.”

  “But I didn’t expect you until much later.” Having a husband in the military was more of a challenge than she’d expected, but she was getting used to not having control of things like time and space.

  “Thought I’d surprise you.”

  She smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.” She’d decided to keep her little apartment in Las Vegas since Ben was gone so much. When he was home they rarely went anywhere but bed, so they didn’t need much living space.

  “Whatcha working on?” he asked, sliding a hand over the glittery red fabric from the table.

  She sat down, still clutching the wad of leota
rds. “Some more dance costumes. I can’t keep up with the requests!”

  “That’s great,” he told her. “I wonder…”

  “What?”

  “Well,” he said, “I wonder if there are enough dance groups in San Diego to keep you busy. If you wanted to move there.”

  She took in a breath. She’d stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop, but still kept an eye on it, just in case. Was he going to ask her to come sit around and wait for him to float in and out of her life? “I’m not sure… I don’t know anyone there but you, and you’re gone a lot…”

  He nodded, as though he’d expected that response. “What if I wasn’t gone so much? I’m up for a promotion, and I have a couple of choices. I could stay with my crew, which would be fine, but I can also take an instructor position and work on land more often. I’d still have to go to sea some, but not nearly as often.”

  She blinked. “Would you still fly? That’s what you love.”

  He nodded. “As much as possible.”

  “That sounds great,” Megan told him. “When would we move?”

  He looked surprised, as though he’d expected her to put up an argument. “You can think about it for a while. I don’t have to decide right now.”

  “Okay.” But she knew. She’d managed to start spending less time worrying about her family and more time thinking about Ben over the past year, and if Ben was working full-time in San Diego, she’d want to be right there with him.

  “It’s going to be nice to be home more,” he said. “I’ll ask around. A lot of the people at work have kids in activities, so I can find out who does dance, and you can check them out.”

  “That’s a good plan,” she said, finally putting the pile of costumes down on the table and standing back up.

  Ben’s eyes ran over her body, stopping and widening when they got to her middle, which was significantly rounder than the last time he’d seen her, three months ago.

  “Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked.

  “Yes?”

  “You’re not sure?”

  “No, I’m sure. It’s just that…it’s really good you’re going to be around more. I wasn’t sure before you left last time, and then I was sure, but I wanted to wait until I’d seen the doctor, and then she wanted me to have an ultrasound, and I thought, ‘Great! I can tell him with a picture!’ but then…” She took a deep breath. “Congratulations, Captain Rutledge. You’re going to be a father. Of your own dance troupe.”

  His eyes shot up to hers. “What does that mean?”

  “That means that we’re having triplets.”

  Ben ran his head over his clean-shaven head. “It’s a good thing I don’t have hair, or it would have just gone white.”

  “I know, right?”

  He pressed a hand to her stomach, and she put hers over it, holding him, while he held their babies.

  “Dancing is good. You can even let your parents teach them magic tricks and stuff. But your brothers are not allowed to juggle them, okay?”

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  Acknowledgments

  I feel like an elephant mom with this book…except an elephant’s only pregnant for two years and this one has been in the works for more than three—Heather Howland, I’d like to sue you for paternity, but there’s enough Liz Pelletier DNA in this project that no judge would believe me. Amazing Agent Nicole Resciniti, you’re godmother; and Editor to the Stars Robin Haseltine—midwife, doula, or ob-gyn, your choice.

  Many thanks to Naima Simone, who graciously served as sonogram technician for a midterm draft of this book. The baby doesn’t look quite like we thought it would, but the biscuits came out of the oven just the way we like them. Or something like that.

  Thanks to all of my author peeps, both online and in person. You keep me sane—or at least ride along with me on the crazy train so I don’t feel so alone.

  And as always, I can’t begin to express my gratitude for the support and patience of my family: Tom, Dan, Karen, Sam, Mom, Mary, and John. Y’all are almost as awesome as the caffeine in my coffee. (I’m kidding. You’re more important. Sort of.)

  About the Author

  Teri Anne Stanley has been writing since she could hold a crayon—though learning to read was a huge turning point in her growth as a writer. Teri’s first stories involved her favorite Saturday morning cartoon characters, followed by her favorite teen idols. She has also authored a recipe column (The Three Ingredient Gourmet) and scientific articles (guess which was more interesting!). Now she writes fun, sexy romance filled with chaos and havoc, populated by strong, smart women and hunky heroes.

  Teri’s career has included sex therapy for rats, making posing suits for female body builders, and helping amputee amphibians recover to their full potential. She currently supplements her writing income as a neuroscience research assistant. Along with a variety of offspring and dogs, she and Mr. Stanley enjoy boating and relaxing at their weekend estate, located in the thriving metropolis of Sugartit, between Beaverlick and Rabbit Hash, Kentucky.

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  A Shot with You

  A Taste of You

  Deadly Chemistry

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