by Jo Leigh
“Tell me this isn’t experimental.” Her tone came out all wrong. He was excited, and he hadn’t mentioned anything about flying. She was probably worried for nothing...
“Not the way you’re thinking. The only reason I’m eligible is because there’s something unique about the curvature of my cornea.”
He pulled her arms around his waist so he could hold her close. “I can’t believe this.”
“Me, neither.”
“I have to call the colonel. I’d like to give him as much notice as possible.”
“Of course.”
He leaned back to look at her. “What’s the matter?”
She shrugged, not wanting to rain all over his joy. She even managed a weak smile. “I think I’m still in shock.”
“I wish I’d thought to tell you. I just...I don’t know...didn’t want to get your hopes up, I guess.”
“My hopes up? Your eye is basically healthy, right? Even if you didn’t have this new surgery.”
“Oh, yeah, don’t worry about that. I couldn’t be teaching if it wasn’t. No, this is only about qualifying to fly.”
Her heart sank. Though she hadn’t needed to hear him say the words. On some level she’d understood the surgery, his excitement—it was all about being able to fly. She couldn’t admit she liked the way things were. Exactly how they were...seeing each other every night, eating dinner together, talking about their days. Flying would change everything. “What about the risks? Did they tell you what they are?”
“Risks? Oh, no. Not this time. The worst that could happen is that I still wouldn’t qualify. That’s it.”
“Sam, it’s a laser in your eye. Of course there are risks.”
He stepped back. Away. “Okay, technically, you’re right. There are risks. But with this surgery, they’re minimal. Like less than two percent.”
“And what happened to the two percent?”
“Their vision got worse. Not dramatically. But for me, it wouldn’t matter, because anything below regulation and I’m screwed, so...”
Wow. He was going to go for it. Regardless. Although he was looking at her again with concern.
“Are you saying you don’t want me to do this?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
“I would never tell you that. It’s your decision. But you have to realize, all this is completely new information. It’s a lot to take in.”
“I’m not going in half-cocked. I learned my lesson the first time around.”
Had he really? Sam was a risk-taker. What he deemed acceptable, most people wouldn’t. Including her. She turned to the microwave so he couldn’t see her face, and tried to figure out how long to heat his dinner. It was no use. Her concentration was shot. She made a wild guess and hoped the food didn’t burn. “I wouldn’t mind knowing more of the details.”
Sam nodded. “I get that, but seriously, there’s nothing to worry about. Would you like to come with me? Would that help?”
His not having already made up his mind was what would’ve helped. “I really can’t, not with pop quizzes this week.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Unless you think you might need me.”
“I’ll always need you, Emma.” He came up behind her and circled his arms around her waist, bent his head to kiss the side of her neck. “Always.”
Her heart caught. Danny had once said similar words that had proved untrue. Different men, she reminded herself. Very different for all they had in common. Still, she felt horrible for how subdued Sam had become when he’d been over the moon minutes ago. She leaned against his chest and clung to his forearms. “You hungry?”
“I will be.”
She watched the seconds tick away, the microwave turntable spinning like her thoughts. His enthusiasm shouldn’t have surprised her. He was a pilot. He’d never claimed to be anything but. It’d been hell for him to be banned from the cockpit, and she’d felt guilty for being glad of it.
But her perfect little bubble had burst, just as his dream looked to be coming true.
Gary had been right.
Maybe she was overreacting. The news had come out of the blue. The only thing she had to do right now was support him. It was no use pretending that she wasn’t in love with him. That she’d crossed a line only to find it had been the edge of the world. And she refused to let her own selfish wishes play a part in his decision. She wasn’t going to be that woman.
If that meant that they couldn’t be together in the end...? No, she wasn’t going to do that to herself. He wasn’t Danny. Sam had already shown her that he could be considerate and thoughtful about his safety and their relationship.
“Honey?”
She turned to see him frowning.
“I really did learn my lesson when I had the first surgery. All I’d wanted was to never have to bother with contact lenses or glasses again. It never occurred to me that I could lose so much. With this procedure, though, the risk is so minuscule it’s barely statistically meaningful.”
Two percent wasn’t minuscule. Especially when it came to someone’s eyesight. But Sam was smart. He knew that, and she wasn’t about to argue because clearly he’d made up his mind.
“There’s a slight chance I’d have to use eyedrops,” he continued. “A slight chance my vision won’t improve, or could get a little worse. We’re only talking about my left eye, and the reason I was chosen is because they believe the outcome will be favorable.”
He turned her to face him and touched her cheek. “Please don’t be worried. It’s an acceptable level of risk. I swear.”
She smiled, doing her damndest to make it as real as possible. “I want the best for you, Sam. In every way. I want you safe and I want you happy.”
“I know that. And I understand it’s scary. You haven’t had any time to process what’s happening but unfortunately this is a take-it-or-lose-it situation. So, are we okay?”
She kissed him, because she hadn’t been lying. She did want him happy. She just hoped they would end up happy together.
* * *
LUCKILY, COLONEL STEVENS was at home, and didn’t mind speaking to Sam even though he was eating dinner. He went over the particulars, making sure that Stevens knew the plan was to miss the least amount of time.
Even though he was pacing, Sam made sure the entire conversation was transparent to Emma. He wished he’d thought to mention the surgery when he’d first told her about his eyes, but he couldn’t help that now. That she was so worried bothered him, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to make it better.
Truth was, if their positions had been reversed, he’d have felt the same.
“I believe there’s a transport plane heading to San Francisco tomorrow at five, if that would help.”
“I’ll check into that, sir. Thank you. I’m perfectly fine with taking commercial flights, but my first call tomorrow will be to Manpower and Personnel.”
“For the record, if all this works out I’d rather you stayed here with us in the RPA program, but I know your old CO. He wasn’t planning on losing you, and those cockpit seats are becoming rarer and rarer. Who knows, maybe we can keep you on board at Holloman. It would mean training on a Raptor.”
“I’d be honored to fly a Raptor, sir. It would mean a lot just to be considered. But first, I have to get over this hurdle, make sure my eyes are air force ready.” His gaze slid to Emma, to see her reaction to the possibility, but instead of smiling, she looked even more tense. He turned away so he didn’t lose the thread with his atypically chatty superior. Perhaps the man had had a drink before his meal.
The colonel cleared his throat, and his “Good luck with that, Captain” ended his part in the conversation.
“Thank you, sir.” Sam hung up, but didn’t put down his phone. He wanted to go talk to Emma, but his window for getting out to L.A. was tight as hell
. What he did do was join her at the counter, where her moo shoo pork was getting colder by the minute. “I have to make a couple of calls,” he said, “but why don’t you go ahead and eat?”
She looked at her plate as if she’d forgotten it was there. “Okay.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me? It’s just as easy to get flights for two.”
“I would if I could, but it would be really tricky with my class schedule. Besides, you’ll only be gone overnight.”
He kissed her, aching to comfort her, but there was so much to gain if this surgery worked out, he didn’t dare pass up the opportunity. “I’ll be done as soon as I can.”
She squeezed his arm, and went back to staring into the microwave.
His first call was over fast. There was a transport going to California, but it was at the wrong time. He had some wiggle room, since he’d fly tomorrow evening and his appointment wasn’t until early the following morning. But he wasn’t willing to cut it too close. It took a while and a lot of pacing to get through to a person instead of a computer at the airline, but once he did, they worked out the fastest, most direct flights.
He’d land at the Burbank airport, stay at a nearby motel, then take a cab to his surgeon’s office in the morning. That same afternoon he’d fly back home. That he’d be released so quickly after the surgery should’ve reassured Emma. No, the information hadn’t helped. She still seemed tense.
After he made a hotel reservation and was finally able to put his cell in the charger, he went directly into his office and grabbed the file he’d kept on the original procedure and the potential fix. When he returned to Emma, she was still standing in the kitchen. It smelled like Chinese food, but there were no plates on the table. Somewhere during his conversation with the airline, he’d heard the washing machine buzzer go off. It didn’t matter, not when it was so clear Emma was not okay. What he couldn’t figure out was why.
This could mean so much to them. Not that being an instructor wasn’t important and better than he’d imagined, but it wasn’t flying. Not ass in the seat, Mach 2, do it or die flying.
More than ever, he wanted to be at the top of his game. He wanted Emma to be proud of him, to know he was an elite fighter, a modern-day warrior who wasn’t afraid to face the front lines.
Her gaze went straight to the folder, and okay, okay, she wasn’t thinking that far ahead. All this was because she was worried that something could go wrong.
That, he could handle. They could handle. While she looked through the paperwork, he stood right by her, going over all the material, explaining each step. He took it slow, and as it went on, especially the part where it talked about their specific success with his exact curvature issue, Emma’s body relaxed until she was leaning more against him than the counter.
“Feel better?”
She hesitated. “Better, yes. But I won’t be happy until you’re home.”
He kissed her, as tenderly as he knew how. He’d had lovers and he’d had girlfriends, but he’d never had anyone like Emma. The worry in her expression was both troubling and humbling. He wanted to ease her mind, and the quickest way he knew how to do that was to get out to California and come back ASAP.
“You should eat,” he said.
“So should you. And I need to transfer the clothes to the dryer.”
He nodded, but he didn’t move. “How about we put all that stuff on hold. Say, an hour?”
Her smile wasn’t a full-on heart-stopper, but it was real. “What did you have in mind, Captain?”
A kiss on her nose as he threaded his fingers between hers was followed by a very awkward walk to the bedroom. He kept stopping to kiss some other part, which tended to trip them up.
It was worth it, though, to nibble on her ear, to lick a stripe up her neck until he could feel her pulse beneath his tongue.
By the time they reached the door, his Emma was back. Her hands were underneath his T-shirt, until he bumped into the side of the bed.
“I know you’re trying to distract me,” she said.
“How am I doing?”
She stripped off her own shirt and dropped it on the floor. “Really well.”
14
HE’D SAID THINGS had gone well.
That was what Emma should have been concentrating on. No, actually, she should have been keeping an eye on her students as they took their exam instead of staring at the cell phone in her lap. Not wondering what exactly Sam meant by gone well.
Of course he’d say things had gone well, right? Even if he’d lost all vision in his left eye, he wasn’t about to tell her from eight hundred miles away. Or by voice mail.
But he’d sounded good. Admitted things were fuzzy for now, and then he’d had to go. The second message had been much like the first, except he’d said everything was fine.
Fine. She’d never cared much for that word, either. Fine was what you said when you didn’t want to tell the truth.
Damn time and damn travel, and now he wasn’t even flying on a commercial flight where there would be a slight window for him to call her back.
Of course her phone was on vibrate, and she couldn’t have walked out of class. Unless it was an emergency, but he hadn’t called and wouldn’t call again until he was home, and even then, he’d said he was going to try to catch some sleep on the plane.
If only she’d heard him live instead of in voice mails.
She hadn’t been this nervous since... Who the hell could remember something stupid like that when all she wanted to do was see Sam?
If she had needed proof that she was in love with the man, today would have sealed the deal. She hadn’t been able to eat or sleep since he left, although she’d drunk her weight in coffee.
The flight from Burbank was three hours. The second flight from El Paso, one. He’d been in the air two hours total. She assumed. Because the second flight was a favor, a major landing at the base. The major wasn’t someone Sam knew. Any number of things could have knocked the timeline sideways.
The timer went off, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Luckily, no one was looking up. A collective sigh was heard across the classroom as pens were put down. The shuffle of paper and murmured complaints was somewhat soothing. Now, if only she didn’t have office hours.
Maybe no one would show up. That would be worse, actually, to sit there and wait with nothing to distract her. She should call him. It wasn’t a big deal.
“Ms. Lockwood?” Caleb Innes stood in front of her desk, although he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he was staring at his notebook edge as he attempted to peel the top layer free.
“Yes?”
“Do you have any extra-credit stuff? To help with my grade?”
“Didn’t do so well on the exam, hmm?”
He shook his head, met her gaze for a quarter of a second, which was progress, she supposed.
“Was it the material or did something get in the way of you studying?”
He winced. “I got stuck on a double-double shift. I tried to read my textbook, but it didn’t work out.”
A lot of her students worked full-time, and some of them more than one job. Caleb was a good student normally. Painfully shy, so he didn’t participate much, but he tried. She’d seen the circles under his eyes get darker with each class. “Next week, my office hours, you can try again, okay?”
His shoulders came down and he almost smiled. “Thanks. A lot.”
She hoped it worked out for him. He was planning to move on to a four-year degree. He wanted to work with animals.
The phone hadn’t magically vibrated without her feeling it, and she only had time to grab a quick coffee before office hours.
By the time she made it there, she’d lost her battle to just put up an apology sign and leave. So she sat, worrying, staring, w
atching time trickle down like the last bit of ketchup in a bottle.
A knock on the door made her gasp, and before she could say “Come in,” Sharon entered. “Will you please tell me what is going on with you today? I’m not kidding, I’m actually worried. Is it some medical thing you’re waiting to hear back on?”
Emma hadn’t wanted to bring Sharon into the discussion. First of all, it wasn’t Emma’s thing to share. Although Sharon was her closest friend, and that was what best friends were for. “In a way.”
“Oh, God,” Sharon said. “One second.” She opened the door, turned the small wooden in-session sign over so no one would knock, then sat across from Emma. “Talk to me.”
“It’s Sam.”
Sharon’s eyes widened. “Come on. No.”
Emma shook her head. “He’s having some work done on his left eye.”
“Has it gotten worse?”
“No. This is corrective surgery. He’s just under regulation, but he’s pretty sure this new procedure can fix it.”
“Wait. I was all prepared to hear terrible news and be the kind of friend who would be there for you no matter what. I have to adjust a minute.”
“So now you’re not going to be there for me?”
“Shh. I’m serious. Give me a minute.”
Emma didn’t want to give her any such thing. He wouldn’t be home yet. She’d purposely asked him to go straight to her place so she could be there before him, make something comforting for dinner. In other words, occupy herself, but the flaw was apparent now. Her imagination would still be working overtime. Dammit.
“Is he having the surgery right now?” Sharon asked, serious again.
“Nope. It was this morning. He’s on his way home.”
“Driving already?”
Emma sighed and glanced at her watch. “He had to go to L.A. He’s in the air now.”
“Did you speak to him after it was done?”
“Two voice mails. According to him it went well and he’s fine.”
