Jayhawk Down

by Sharon Calvin

  Ryan stared at her for a moment longer. “Ah, Caity,” he said softly and squeezed her hand. “Go on. If you need me, call.”

  Caitlyn’s smile slipped as she stalked toward the exit. She’d always craved action, especially after difficult or emotionally draining missions. Despite her return to routine, life hadn’t reverted to normal.

  Maybe it never would.

  Caitlyn ignored Joe’s attempts at conversation on the way to the hospital. Just like he ignored her direction to go home when he dropped her off.

  He reclined his bucket seat and settled back with a grunt. “I’ll leave as soon as Doc confirms he’s taking you home.”

  “Fine. Spend the night in your truck.” She bounced out and slammed the door for good measure. She wasn’t in the mood for stubborn men. Great, she was about to confront the most stubborn man she knew. On his turf, no less.

  The glass doors to the emergency entrance whooshed open and the sounds and smells evoked memories of her first Stillman sighting. It seemed like a lifetime had passed. In a way it had...

  Tension rode the air and shadowed the eyes of the men and women she passed in the wide hallway. Everyone walked with a purpose, almost as if they’d rather be running if it wouldn’t cause panic.

  ER work had to be a wilder emotional roller-coaster ride than her job. The PA system paged a doctor and a second later a petite blond in a white lab coat hustled from the family waiting area through the wide automatic doors marked NO ADMITTANCE in bold red letters. Caitlyn followed behind as if she belonged.

  She headed to the doctors’ lounge. Surely she could hide there until Stillman’s shift ended. Ten feet from the nurses’ station a more familiar blond caught her attention. Hilary was giggling and waving her left hand for the attending nurses to admire. Dread slowed her steps.

  She’d kept her heart safe until Stillman made her break her own rule; then again, he’d claimed he didn’t have the wealth Hilary had been looking for.

  Stillman was the trifecta of everything Caitlyn claimed not to want: doctor, wealthy playboy and hero all rolled into a sexy package.

  Hilary glanced up and caught Caitlyn staring. “My goodness, it’s Stillman’s captain from the Coast Guard.” The smile she bestowed on Caitlyn was as fake as her hair color.

  “Lieutenant, not captain,” Caitlyn corrected automatically. She doubted Hilary had a clue how the Coast Guard mirrored the navy’s rank with no obvious correlation to the army’s. Then again, she’d probably never understood Stillman’s rank to begin with. Caitlyn took a deep breath and applied her own bogus smile. “Looks like congratulations are in order.”

  Hilary’s expression turned smug. “Why, thank you.”

  She fluttered her fingers so Caitlyn could get the full effect of the big honkin’ diamond surrounded by a flotilla of baguettes. Nachos and beer churned in Caitlyn’s stomach. It looked like Stillman had found a way to provide platinum and diamonds after all.

  “Goodness, you’re wearing one of those little planes.” Hilary pointed to Caitlyn’s crudely fashioned pendant. “Stillman seems to be very fond of giving them to the nurses.” She plucked a little music box off the counter and held it up to the light. “Does it have something to do with earning Mile High Wings?”

  She blinked innocently as her mouth curved up with a “Gotcha.”

  Caitlyn shook her head in disbelief. Had Stillman...? She didn’t want to picture him in an intimate coupling, in the air or on the ground, with someone else. “No, I’m afraid that takes a little more privacy than we had in the Jayhawk.” She slipped her right hand into the pocket of her motorcycle jacket and fisted it to keep from smacking the woman. Insecurity ate her confidence in three greedy bites. Caitlyn had simply been convenient on the island, not special.

  * * *

  “Ladies, don’t you have patients to see?”

  Stillman scowled at the women clustered around the nurses’ station. Hilary had shown up an hour ago in a bubbly mood at odds with the gruesome job he had trying to piece back together broken and torn children. He’d hoped if he ignored her she’d take the hint and leave. Her fiancé was in town for a doctors’ convention and for some strange reason she felt compelled to stop in to see him..

  He rubbed his burning eyes. With another doctor on duty he could finally call it a day. He glanced at his watch. No, make that night. His head ached and he wasn’t in the mood to put up with gossip or his ex. Never mind that he’d missed Caitlyn and her crew’s celebration.

  “Dr. Gray.”

  He looked up. “Caitlyn.” The initial pleasure at seeing her turned to suspicion. Was she checking up on him? That had been one of Hilary’s favorite games to play when he’d worked late. Hell, he’d been an intern. All he did was work double shifts. He swiped the surgical hat off and rubbed his damp hair. Shit, he was being an ass. Again.

  He gestured to the doctors’ lounge. “ Just give me a minute or two—”

  “No, it won’t take that long.” She walked over to him, her boots clicking with sharp little taps on the linoleum.

  She was wearing her painted-on black jeans and nylon jacket, her hair pulled back in the complicated braid she wore when in uniform. God, she was beautiful.

  A smile crept up on him. Maybe she’d take him for a ride on Black Beauty. He could forget about the injured children, Hilary’s obsession with one-upmanship—

  “I wanted you to be the first to hear. I-I’ve accepted a flight training position in Alabama.” Her mouth made all the right moves for a happy face, but her eyes refused to play along.

  What she said kicked into his slow-on-the-uptake brain and Stillman all but staggered with its meaning. “You’re leaving?” Hell, he hadn’t had a free minute to talk about what happened on the island let alone their future. Now she was saying there wouldn’t be one?

  Her grin faltered and she cast a quick glance at Hilary. “Yeah, I think it’s best. For all of us.” Her eyes glistened, the black pupils engulfing the blue as she stepped closer.

  The familiar scent of her clouded his few functioning brain cells. He searched her face for a clue to why she was doing this to him. To them. All he saw was equal parts confusion and...sadness?

  “I’m sorry,” she said and pressed against him with her heavenly breasts. Then she kissed him.

  Sorry? His brain gave up trying to fathom any explanation as his body reveled in the feel and rightness of her plastered to him.

  She ended the kiss entirely too soon. A shudder shook her and she looked at him as if memorizing his features. “It was special to me.” She clamped teeth over lower lip to stop a telltale tremble. “I love you, and would have made you beautiful babies,” she whispered. Her body froze for an instant then she jerked back as if stung.

  “Thank God you haven’t left yet. We need you in cubicle three.”

  The moment his attention shifted to the nurse’s strident voice, Caitlyn broke away. “Wait!” Shit. Babies? What the hell—

  “Dr. Gray?”

  Stillman saw Caitlyn’s sleek figure disappear through the automatic door before he could stop her. The weight of the day’s events crashed and he turned back to the next crisis of his endless shift. Damned if he’d let the queen have the final word on their relationship. And he sure as hell had something to say about her moving anywhere without him.

  * * *

  Fool, fool, fool. The word echoed with every click of her heels on the concrete. She was almost running by the time she made it to Joe’s truck and had to stop and catch her breath. She leaned forward, hands on her knees. Or maybe she should go ahead and ralph all over the sidewalk. Idiot, idiot, id—

  “What happened? Are you all right?” Joe had his arm around her before she could straighten up.

  “Don’t. Unless you want tears, don’t be nice to me.” She brushed his arm away and grabbed the passeng
er door handle.

  “Should I go in there and kick his ass?” Joe held the door open, and stood waiting for her response.

  Caitlyn settled into the leather bucket seat before looking at him. His brown eyes boiled with indignation and his mouth formed a grim line as if holding back a barrage of expletives. She didn’t know if she deserved such loyalty, but, by God, she needed it tonight. “No. I just want to go home.”

  He leaned into the truck. “No more partying and getting rip-roaring drunk?”

  The sound of her petulant words from earlier in the evening made her cringe. She shook her head, unwilling to say anything for fear of bursting into tears like a five-year-old. Her expression must have given her away.

  Joe gently touched her cheek with his blunt fingertips. “I’ll only take you home if you tell me what the bastard did.”

  She ducked away from his touch. “Dammit, you’re being nice. Get your butt in the truck and start driving.”

  He awkwardly patted her knee then slammed shut the door. Maybe if she concentrated on breathing in the scent of leather and Joe’s old-fashioned cologne she could get her emotions under control. Thankfully he waited till they were on the highway before he asked for an explanation again.

  She rubbed her palms over her thighs and watched the stream of oncoming headlights. “He didn’t do anything. I was the idiot that went and fell in love.” That admission pinched her chest and burned her eyes.

  “So? He’s in love with you. Where’s the problem?”

  Caitlyn glared at her soon-to-be ex-friend. “Yeah, that’s why Hilary’s wearing a diamond big enough to clog the intake on a Jayhawk.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I’m Southern Cracker personified while she’s all slick Manhattan in her Donna Karan dress and to-die-for Manolo Blahniks.”

  “Milano what’s it’s?”

  She hunched down in the seat. “Manolo Blahniks. Shoes. Hell, she has the two things I covet most—a perfect man and perfect shoes.” The bitch.

  “You’re confusing me. You’re saying Stillman’s going to marry his ex? Why the hell would he do that when he’s obviously in love with you?”

  Caitlyn snorted. “If I had to guess, I’d say Daddy’s brush with death had a lot to do with it. And because his family would prefer he marry the Lady instead of the Tramp.”

  She doubted Mama and Papa would appreciate their fourth-generation Gray whelped out of a South Carolina girl whose greatest aspiration was to fly rescue helicopters.

  St. Petersburg, FL,

  Monday, 3 October, 2224 hours

  Stillman’s call to Caitlyn’s cell phone went straight to voice mail. Again. Talk about a Charlie Foxtrot, he didn’t even know her address, or he’d go by her place and pound on the door until—

  “Honey, you’ve got caffeine withdrawal written all over you,” the plump waitress said and filled his mug. “Breakfast or dinner?”

  “Breakfast.” He gave his order and was handing her the menu when Hilary slipped into the booth across the table from him. Joe Peterson slid in next to her, looking pissed as hell.

  “Hilary, go home. Joe, you can stay,” Stillman said and picked up his steaming mug. Joe would have Caitlyn’s address. And might even have a clue as to what the hell was going on with her.

  Hilary smiled at the waitress. “I’ll have a cup of coffee. Decaf, please.” Her smile faltered when she looked at him. “I’m not leaving until I tell you what happened.” She tucked a length of hair behind her ear and looked around the diner before coming back to him with a little sigh. “I was thoughtless and even a little catty.”

  Stillman caught the flash of a very large diamond and set his coffee down. He leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “Guess Dickless came through after all.”

  Her face turned red and jerked her hand away. “Dickless” Donner, one of his father’s partners, had been sniffing around Hilary since a year or two after Stillman married her. The middle-aged surgeon had plenty of money and most of his hair. Hilary had been referring to him as her fiancé but without the ring, Stillman hadn’t been convinced it wasn’t all in her mind.

  Hilary cast an embarrassed look at Joe. “Don’t be crude, Nicolas is a sweet man.”

  Her pout appeared well rehearsed. What had possessed him to ever think he could be happy with such vanity?

  “Excuse me for butting in on this tender moment, but I take it you’re not marrying Hilary? Again?” Joe asked.

  “What?” Shit, was that what Caitlyn thought? “Hell no, I’m not marrying anybody.” Not unless he could convince a damn stubborn redhead they belonged together.

  I love you, and would have made you beautiful babies.

  Her whispered words came back with meaning now. Well, son of a bitch, all he had to do was tell her he wasn’t marrying Hilary? His gut relaxed for the first time in what felt like weeks.

  “I think I might have said something—actually several somethings that I shouldn’t have.”

  Hilary’d reverted to fidgeting. Their waitress returned with more coffee and verified no one else wanted to order food.

  “All right. What did you say?” Stillman sat back and sipped from his mug, eyeing Hilary’s demeanor. She must have done something she was ashamed of. Rarely did she appear uncomfortable over her verbal barbs.

  “I recognized the little plane Caitlyn was wearing as the same one on that music box you’d given to one of the nurses and kind of hinted that maybe it had something to do with Mile High Wings.”

  “Shit.” Joe’s mug hit the table with a loud thunk.

  Hilary jumped and blushed a deeper red. “I didn’t know it meant having sex in an airplane!”

  Joe waved his hand as if to brush her discomfort away. “That wouldn’t have offended Queen B.” He drilled Stillman with a glare. “The idea she was just one of many would have.”

  He glared back. “She’s not. She’s one of a kind.” When he’d heard that she’d salvaged that worthless little plane in the midst of a water ditching, he knew exactly how much it meant to her.

  “The triage nurse lit into me after Caitlyn left.” Hilary held up her manicured hand, the one with the boulder on it, and turned it palm up. “Stillman, I truly did not mean to cause you any trouble. I didn’t know the music box on the nurses’ desk was meant for Caitlyn,” she practically wailed in an uncharacteristic display of emotion.

  Stillman pulled the perfectly wrapped little box from his jacket pocket and set it on the table. “I may be able stitch a six-inch gash and not leave a scar, but when it comes to gift wrapping, I’m worse than a first-year med student. Our triage nurse did the honors for me.” Oddly enough, he believed Hilary’s version of what happened.

  His breakfast arrived and he glanced at Joe. “Queeny’s not answering her cell phone. Wanna tell me where she lives so I can go by and deliver my little gift? And explain why the hell she’s not moving to Ala-damn-bama.”

  Joe grinned. “I’ll do you one better if you know how to ride a motorcycle.”

  Clearwater, FL,

  Monday, 3 October, 2230 hours

  Valerie sighed as the music shifted to a slow, bluesy song and Munson slid his arm around her waist to settle her more firmly against him. Dancing with him was pure pleasure. Or as close as she’d allowed herself to come in a long time.

  Yasin had gone bar hopping with the younger Coasties while she and Munson drifted across the parking lot to a little jazz bar and restaurant. He’d bought her dinner. And she’d made up her mind to say yes if he asked her to spend the night in his bed.

  “I’m sorry. This evening didn’t turn out the way I’d planned,” Munson said, his breath stirring the hair over her ear along with her blood.

  She cocked her head to study his serious face as they continued to sway to the music. “You don’t hear me complaining.” Exactly what had he planned?


  His mouth moved with a wry twist. “Your meeting with the much-lauded pilot lasted about five seconds.”

  Valerie chuckled. Caitlyn Stone had exceeded her expectations. The statuesque redhead vibrated with a curious mixture of scrubbed girl-next-door beauty and sultry sex-goddess. Her crew, from adorably cute to devastatingly handsome, and all terribly young looking, gave the impression they’d take on a ship full of terrorists to protect her. From Val’s experience with sailors, that was more telling than any politically correct military record.

  “She’s young and in love. And survived something few men, let alone women, have to face. So I say, go for it, girlfriend!”

  Munson gave her a considering look. “You think she’s in love with the doctor?”

  “After hearing Yasin’s comments about what happened on the island, and seeing her reaction to the reason he was working late? Yeah, it’s obvious,” she said with a snort. Only a man could be so dense.

  His eyes darkened and his gaze drifted down to her mouth. She held her breath on a wish. Yes, idiot, go for a kiss.

  “I want you to know, whatever does, or doesn’t happen between us, it in no way affects our working relationship.”

  Oh, to hell with waiting. Valerie shifted to her toes and pressed her lips to his. He took the lead away from her, deepening the kiss with a little growl and just enough tongue to show he was serious.

  He ended the kiss with the last wailing note of the saxophone. “I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you walk into your condo’s lobby. I have no business getting involved with you, but damned if I’m not already.”

  “Good. Now tell me you’re not going to make me spend the night alone.” The boyish grin lit up his face and made her heart tap-dance.

  “Honey, the one sure thing I’ve learned in my line of business is to take what I want, because second chances are few and far between. You just happen to be both.”

  Valerie hooked her arm through his and headed to the door. “Your next good news better be that the hotel is only a block away.”