by Jo Leigh
He’d gotten over his need to show his manners by jumping out of the car to let her out, and she was kind of sorry about that this time. Instead, he leaned over the console and kissed her. It was tender. And it felt an awful lot like goodbye.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to swing by tonight,” he said as she opened the car door. “I’m meeting a couple of friends for dinner. It’ll probably end late.”
“Okay,” she said. “Have a great time.”
“Thanks. Don’t work too hard.”
She looked at him again, but not for long. She’d prefer other memories to this one. Closing the door, she watched him drive away before she headed inside.
* * *
HE’D SWORN he was going to call some friends as soon as he got back to his condo, just so the lie wouldn’t keep churning in his gut. But all he seemed capable of doing was holding his cell in one hand, and a cold beer in the other as he stared at some sports event on his big screen.
It was five-thirty. The rest of the night yawned ahead of him in depressing darkness, his mind firmly caught on his upcoming decision.
Cassie had been the perfect distraction, and then he’d gone and blown the whole thing by spilling his guts. At least they’d had that last time in bed. Although maybe if it hadn’t been the best sex of his life, it would be easier. The thought of not seeing her again bothered him more than he’d care to admit.
It was the right thing to do, though. She was great, she really was great, but she had her dreams and her job and her own mess to clean up with her brother. Soon, he’d be back on the job, back to his real life. Whatever that turned out to be.
He’d tried to imagine what it would be like not to wear an air force uniform, a flight suit. To never experience Mach 2 again. No more officers’ club, no future built around an institution that was more a part of his life than where he lived, what he ate, where he worshiped. Maybe that was exactly what he needed. A whole new window on life. New ports of call. A different standard with entirely unknown goals and achievements.
There were good things about the air force, but the one fact that sat at the top of every list was that it was familiar. Simple. He knew the rules by heart.
The idea that he could change everything by not signing a piece of paper intrigued the hell out of him.
So why was the choice so difficult?
He thought about Cassie again, and he hadn’t meant to. But that thing she’d said to him about him living in a bubble. She was right. He didn’t have to like it, but he wasn’t about to start lying to himself. He’d worked incredibly hard for what he’d accomplished, and continued to bust his ass every single day, but that didn’t negate the reality that he was spoiled. He’d grown used to being an elite fighter. He tried not to be a jerk about it, but he’d used it plenty. To get women. To grease the wheels in almost every aspect of his life.
He hit his sister’s number on his cell phone and waited for the rings. She picked up on the third.
“Hey, hotshot, what’s up?”
“Nothing much. Calling to check in. Make sure you and the family are doing okay.”
“We’re fine. Are you sure you are?”
“Yeah, of course I am. The last time we talked it had to be quick. So, I’m...calling.”
Lauren didn’t say anything for a bit, but when she did, it was so loud he had to yank the phone from his ear. Of course she wasn’t yelling at him. “Russell Ackerman, you get your behind back in here right this second and clean up that mess you made. Sorry,” she said, her voice quieted by half. “Kids.”
“Yeah, I know. Another reason I was calling. They’re home, I take it?”
“They are, but only for a little while. Russ has soccer and Fisher has hockey and the practices are on either side of town. That is not clean, young man. Do it right.”
“I can see you’re pretty busy.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got a few minutes.”
“If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?”
“I’ll try. But remember, I love you, so...”
“So that means you get to lie?”
“Sure it does. Lying is sometimes the most important thing a person can do if they love someone. I don’t take it lightly, though, so I think you can count on me. Shoot.”
“Is it a giant pain in the butt for you to pay my bills?”
Her hesitation was just long enough for him to know the answer before she spoke. “Not really.”
“This can’t be one of those kinds of lies, Lauren. Seriously. I can figure out another way.”
“Okay. You’re right. I miss you, and keeping up with your mail and your bills makes me feel like we’re connected, but mostly, it’s just another thing on my to-do list.”
“Thank you. For all of it. For taking care of me for so long. Why don’t you send me what you’ve got at your earliest convenience?”
“Can I ask what brought this on?”
“Someone suggested that I might have had some difficulties growing up.”
Her laugh was like a slice of home. “You have your moments, but by and large, you’re a fantastic man, John. It wouldn’t hurt for you to find the right woman. But I promised I wouldn’t press you on that.”
“And I’m grateful.”
“Listen, I’ve got to run. I’ll be home tomorrow, though, between noon and three if you want to talk some more. If you can. I have no clue what your schedule is, but the offer stands.”
“Good to know. I’ll call if I’m able. Say hey to everyone, and tell the boys to behave. All three of them.” He hung up, feeling better and worse. He missed his family a lot. He’d sure get to see them more often if he took Wagner’s job offer, but he imagined the conversations might not be so easy. They’d be disappointed in him. Deeply. His father. Man, the colonel would take it as a slap in the face. Would it even be possible to explain his reasoning?
Hell, how could he when John couldn’t understand it himself?
He hit speed-dial five, reasonably sure he’d get the answering machine, but lo and behold, his mother picked up.
“Sweetheart. I’m so delighted to hear from you. What’s the occasion?”
“Hey, I do not call you guys enough. No occasion, just wanted to say hi. Find out how you two are doing.”
“That’s wonderful. We’re doing fine. Your father’s on the nineteenth hole with his buddies, swapping stories and drinking beer. I’m going to an art opening tonight, downtown. It’s a fund-raiser for the Air Force Village.”
“When’s the last time you and Dad had a night out? Just the two of you?”
She hummed a little, the way she always did. He’d figured out years ago that she had no idea. When John had been in high school, it had driven him crazy. Now he liked it. A lot. “Not for a while,” she said. “I’ll have to do something about that. What an interesting question.”
“It’s no big deal,” he said, before he took a sip of his warming beer. “I know you guys love keeping busy.”
“We’re used to it, that’s for sure. Keeps us young, I think.”
“Probably.”
“What about you, John? Anything you want to tell me?”
“Nothing new. Sam seems to be adjusting well to his new orders.”
“That poor boy. I hope so. You watch him now. Keep calling him, because I’ve seen some things. It’s hard to stop being a warrior when that’s all you’ve ever been. Trust me. And every wife of a retired serviceman.”
“Words to live by, Mom. I will call him. I promise. And you, too. Give my best to Dad, okay?”
“I will, honey. We’d sure love to see you.”
“When I can, I will. Have fun tonight.” He hung up and put the phone down on the couch.
Would he be able to stand not being a warrior? Or would he be strong enough to carve out a new kind of life for himself?
Damn it. He wished things were better between him and Cassie. He could use some of her special brand of distraction tonight.
His cell rang, and for a second
he grinned, thinking it was her, but it wasn’t. It was Rick. Probably wanting a wingman. What the hell. “Hey, Towlie.”
“Devil!” Rick said. Well, yelled. “Get your ass over here, my man. You’re on leave, for Christ’s sake. Which is why, when you get here, I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
John was pretty sure he could, but at least he wouldn’t be sitting here moping. “Where are you, you sad son of a bitch?”
“Me and three ugly-ass pilots are at the Palms. We’re eating dinner in fifteen minutes, so move it. We’re not waiting on ya.”
“Fine. Drag me into sin.”
“Dudes,” Rick shouted, “Devil’s coming. You better pray he hooks up early or none of you are getting any tonight.” Then he hung up.
John didn’t care. He needed a change of scenery, a different outlook. Hell, maybe these were his last few days of hanging with other pilots. Men he’d flown with. Men he’d take a bullet for. Men who would take one for him.
Oh, yeah. He needed to lighten up.
* * *
THIS WAS WHY she didn’t date customers. Virtually every person she knew at the bar had asked her where John was. Was he coming in later? Were things okay between them? Did she know if Tommy was gonna be there, too?
Cassie wanted to strangle all of them. Individually or in groups, it didn’t matter. Just so long as they shut up about John.
What annoyed her even more was that every time the door opened, her heart leaped. She’d tried to not look, to wait. He’d still be there if she didn’t look that first second. But it was no good. She felt like Pavlov’s dog, salivating at the bell. Salivating was probably not too far off the mark.
“Tommy said he can’t be here until around midnight. He’s got a meeting or something.” Lisa shook her head as she filled a pitcher from the tap. The place wasn’t jammed like the night before, and most of the people there were familiar, if not regulars.
“A meeting. Right.”
“I know. But he had a bad night.”
“Did he?” Cassie said, washing her millionth glass. “Poor baby.”
Lisa gave her a look that was understanding, but also a bit hopeful. “He knows he let you down. He’s not feeling too good about himself.”
“I’m sure that crackpot lawyer of his will make everything better. Damn it, Lisa, there’s help available anytime he wants it.”
With a sigh, Lisa put the filled pitcher on the bar, and started another. “Speaking of which, I’m right here. And I know how to listen.”
“You need me to explain why I’m annoyed with Tommy?”
“That’s not what’s bothering you. Okay, so it’s partly what’s bothering you, but I’ve seen how you look every time someone opens the door. I won’t push, but you have a friendly ear real close by. I’m just saying.”
“Everything’s fine.” Cassie dried her hands, stared at her pruney fingers. “He can’t come tonight. He had other plans. That’s all. But you know this thing between us, it isn’t anything.” She shrugged. “I’m just the vacation hookup.”
“Oh, you’re not going to let that sit there without a fight.”
“I’m being serious. We’re not an item. For all I know, it’s over right now. If not tonight, then it will be in a few days. I knew that from the get-go.”
“He worked the bar, Cassie. He called out your brother. In front of a room full of Tommy’s friends. That is not a vacation hookup.”
She started drying glasses, holding on to words she’d regret. “Let it go, okay?”
“But—”
“Please?”
Lisa nodded, the look of concern one Cassie had seen many times, but never about her. Dropping her towel, she went into the storage room and closed the door, careful not to slam it.
Her face twisted into an ugly cry, but she bit her lower lip to stop it. Kicking a bag of rags helped. A little.
She still wasn’t sorry she’d spoken her mind.
Oh, who was she kidding? If she could, she’d go back in time and keep her big mouth shut. She wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she cared way too much about John Devlin. The thought of truly never seeing him again made her ache. She’d been so busy flying through her days she hadn’t realized he’d become the best part.
Some psychologist she would be, when she couldn’t even tell she was falling in love until it was too late.
* * *
ON THE FIFTY-FIFTH FLOOR of the Palms hotel, John sipped his twelve-year-old scotch and thought about how he was definitely not in the Gold Strike. He had a panoramic view of the Strip, the outdoor sky deck had glass panels on the floor that were dizzying if one had too much to drink, and the clientele was the cream of the high-living crop.
The guys, all four of them, had been pulling out all the stops for the gorgeous ladies in their finery. Right now, a stunning blonde and a petite brunette were kissing each other, egged on by Rick and most of the men within seeing distance. All John could picture was Cassie. She would have rolled her eyes at the over-the-top displays, the strutting of the peacocks, the alcohol-fueled laughter.
He’d wanted a distraction, but everything reminded him of her. He supposed fifty-five floors wasn’t high enough, the Palms wasn’t far enough. Which was why he was considering Rick’s offer.
Towlie had scored two suites at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in San Francisco for a couple of nights. He’d lined up a flight for all of them, taking off bright and early in the morning. John’s first reaction was hell, no, but the more his thoughts kept spinning, the more appeal the trip had.
He needed to get out of town. Away from his condo, the base, Vegas, Cassie.
Cassie. That would be two nights and three days away from her. She wouldn’t even have studying or school to get in the way. The thought of being in bed with her, making love to her from sunset to the break of dawn, was heady and enticing. But she’d become part of the problem.
He couldn’t stop hearing her. Imaging her. She’d taken over his mind. If he got away, he’d be able to think again. Critically, logically.
His cell rang, and he couldn’t put his drink down fast enough. He’d go inside, talk to her, maybe spend the rest of the evening at the Gold Strike before he had to catch his flight. But it wasn’t Cassie.
It was Sam. This wasn’t the first call John hadn’t picked up from his friend. But he let this one go to voice mail, too. He couldn’t speak to Sam when he was drinking like this. Sam had enough on his plate. He didn’t need to worry about John’s indecisive mess of a life.
16
JUST BEFORE MIDNIGHT, half the population of north Vegas seemed to want a drink at the Gold Strike. Of course Tommy was nowhere in sight, and Cassie and Lisa were slammed with orders. At least the worst of the nosy questions had eased up, but no matter what she told herself, she couldn’t stop her reaction with each new arrival.
“Shove over,” Lisa said, pushing Cassie with a bump to her hip. “It’s my turn to wash. You pour.”
“I was going to cut limes.”
“Limes can wait, pitchers can’t.”
Cassie didn’t argue. She staggered two pitchers at a time, careful not to give them too much of a head, then two more followed. Of all people, Spider offered to carry some of the orders to tables, and in return got a free refill of his own.
When the swell of the tide receded enough for Cassie to pull out the limes, she lined up everything around the cutting board and went to work. Her cell phone ringing was most inconvenient, but it could be Tommy. Or John.
Her heart hammered against her chest as she saw John’s name on the screen. “Hey,” she said, loudly. “What’s up?”
“Sorry to call so late,” he said, practically yelling back at her. “I can hear you’re still at the bar.”
“It sounds like you are, too.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I, uh, I’m with Rick and a few guys. And, uh...wait a second.”
The scrape of a hand over the microphone blurred the sounds behind him, but not enough
for her to miss the feminine laughter. Another few seconds went by, and she could hear him speaking but not the words he said. “Sorry. Sorry about that.”
He’d been drinking. It was clear in his sibilant phrases, his pauses. The giggly woman. “It’s fine.” Someone came up to the bar to order a vodka tonic, and Cassie turned her back on him. She should have gone into the supply closet but her left hand was dripping with juice.
“I wanted to tell you,” he said, “that I’m gonna be out of town for a few days. It’s a thing. With Rick.”
At least the churning in her gut made the heavy beating of her heart seem less dramatic. “Oh, yeah?”
“I need to get away for a little bit, that’s all. You know. Think things through.”
“Sure.” Cassie nodded as if he could see her, but she was so glad he couldn’t because she had the feeling her eyes would reveal too much. “A couple of days, then?”
“Should do it. Leaving first thing in the morning.”
“Okay, then. Um, listen, do you have a ride home?”
“What?”
That laugh had come back, louder this time. Whoever she was, she must be really close. “You need a ride home? It sounds like you shouldn’t be driving.”
The mixed sounds of her bar and his were a jumble of distraction as she waited for him to say something. To say yes. That he needed her.
“No, thanks,” he said. “I’ve got it covered.”
The ambient noise gave her a perfect excuse to get out of the conversation before she did something foolish. He was going away to think. That was all. Maybe some things she’d said had struck home. Maybe not. “I’m getting slammed here. So I’ll talk to you later, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said.
When nothing immediately followed, Cassie hung up. She shoved her cell in her pocket, and went back to slicing limes, careful not to hurt herself. Not to let it show.
* * *
RICK AND THE GUYS were doing something in a bar John couldn’t remember the name of. Picking up women was more accurate, but they’d been talking about shooting pool, too. He had left the hotel twice. Once for dinner last night. Once to get coffee this morning. He’d have gone home already but it was marginally better to stare at San Francisco than the Vegas Strip.
