by Tracy Brody
Next, they ran several urban-insertion scenarios at a fake community. Though on a smaller scale, it truly resembled an Afghan village.
When they picked the men up after each practice run, there were no grim faces. It was evident in watching the men of the Combat Applications Group, they were a unique breed and thrived in their element. Mack couldn’t give up being in the CAG any more than she could give up flying. They shared more than a sense of duty; they loved their jobs. They needed the purpose. And they used the adrenaline rush that came from doing what they did to compensate for what they lacked in other parts of their lives.
But Mack had come out and admitted he wanted more than his career. Guys in his line of work needed a reason to make it home. He had his girls, but he had physical needs, too. She got that. Hell, it’d been almost two years since Eric died. Because he’d deployed three months before his death, even longer since she’d been with a man. She deserved a freaking medal for not jumping Mack when he’d put out the signals and then spent the night in the next bedroom.
Watching him and his team today, she wanted to chuck the rules out the window. Good thing the Lundgrens were home, and she and Mack weren’t alone together anymore.
Twenty
Back at the airfield, the men debarked and gathered to discuss their run-throughs. From his position, Mack watched the aviation crew tie down the blades of the Black Hawks, then meander past the operators before they disappeared into the office where the flight crew debriefed.
The pilots and crew filed out of the office minutes later. “Any thoughts, Sergeant Hanlon?” Ray drew Mack’s attention back to their wrap-up.
“You guys sucked. We need to run these exercises again tomorrow. Maybe a few days next week, too.” His gaze followed the pilots, well, Kristie mostly, coming in their direction while the men groaned and disputed him.
Mack watched her scan the faces of the men, lingering when meeting his eyes before she glanced away and focused on Ray.
“Lunch?” The pilot Mack had mistaken as Kristie’s date last week issued the invite.
“Sounds good. You guys buying?” Ray attempted to keep a straight face.
“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” the pilot countered.
“We’re doing the dangerous stuff,” Dominguez protested with several of the team chiming their agreement.
“Oh, poor babies,” Kristie lamented. “Next time we won’t make you jump out of our perfectly good aircraft. You can just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“You wouldn’t do that to us, would you?” Jeremy Milledge feigned horror.
“It’d be torture, wouldn’t it?” she teased.
“Hell, yeah!” Milledge voiced for the group.
“Tung Sing Buffet over on Bragg Boulevard?” one of the pilots suggested.
“We’ll meet you there,” Ray agreed.
“I get to ride with you, sweet cheeks?” Milledge tried to slip an arm around Kristie’s shoulders.
“Sweet cheeks? Seriously? Go ride in the truck.” She elbowed Milledge in the ribs hard enough for him to wince and rub his side.
Clearly, they knew each other. But how? At least she wasn’t taking his flirting seriously. Mack loved how she didn’t take guff from him or the guys. Though Rochelle interacted with the guys at numerous get-togethers over the years, she never acted this comfortable around the men on his team. The pull in his gut returned as he envisioned Kristie hanging out with him and his friends.
If he could knock down the brick wall—or get her to unlock the door …
Inside the restaurant, the aroma of spices made Mack’s mouth water, and his stomach rumble. The diminutive Chinese hostess eyed the group of uniformed men filing in. She muttered something under her breath, pointed to several empty tables, then scurried to the kitchen.
The group pulled tables together. Mack hung back, hoping to sit next to Kristie, but Milledge edged in and took the vacant seat on her right. Pick your battles. Making a scene over a seat could draw unwanted attention. He stepped around to the other side of the table, where he could sit and enjoy the view.
After giving their drink orders, the group headed to the buffet. At the back of the pack, he encountered several all but empty pans as he moved down the line. He scooped out the last spoonful of Hunan beef and added it to his lo mein when Kristie walked past. Her steps slowed enough for him to notice. She met his gaze. Though he couldn’t read her expression, his mind went into overdrive.
At the table, several conversations went on around them, but he primarily listened to Kristie. Hearing her views and observing her interact with their peers had the longing for more clawing its way out of his stomach.
“We need to do this kinda thing more often,” Kristie’s young co-pilot, Powell, stated.
“We were saying the same thing,” Ray agreed.
Mack didn’t fess up to the real reason he wanted more joint missions.
“I wasn’t expecting your guys to come out of the woods.” Powell shoveled a forkful of food in his mouth.
“Grant wasn’t supposed to expect them, either,” Mack said. “Anybody warn him?”
“Not me,” Dominguez answered.
The rest of the men shook their heads.
“Prepare for all contingencies,” Grant said.
“Be prepared? Told you he’s a Boy Scout.” Vincenti leaned forward, peering past Mack at Grant. “Did you get your Eagle badge?”
“It’s not a badge. You have to earn Eagle Scout.”
Vincenti laughed harder at Grant’s correction.
“Give him a break. The kid did good today.” Mack gave a nod of approval to Grant, then eyed the other Bad Karma members. “Better than most of you on your first air assault training with the team.”
“Boy Scout,” someone coughed out.
“Naw. He’s just smarter than the average bear, Boo-Boo,” Dominguez mimicked, punching Grant in the arm.
Grant sneered at Dominguez, though Mack could swear the kid was blushing, too.
“You liked today, Grant?” Mack already knew the answer. Something about the newbie’s enthusiasm took him back to his own early days in Special Operations.
“Oh, yeah. Especially the jump.” Grant’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.
“It was cool, but coming in fast and low over the treetops was sweet!” Powell speared a piece of chicken and brought it to his mouth.
“Donovan here’s a Special Ops groupie. What was your favorite part today?” Milledge bumped his shoulder to hers, jarring her enough to spill the food from her fork. “It was the fast-roping. Don’t try to deny it. I remember how you and Eric would—”
“Shut up! TMI.”
Based on the way Milledge jerked, Kristie must have kicked him under the table.
“Okay, okay. Geez. I was just gonna … Never mind.”
The glare she fixed on Milledge made Mack want to strangle him. Shit. Milledge couldn’t keep his big mouth shut.
After several tense, silent moments, Milledge leaned over and whispered to her. She nodded and gave Milledge a sad smile. Whatever he said next made her rear back, eyes wide before they narrowed, and she elbowed his arm, unable to suppress an exasperated laugh.
She discreetly contemplated Mack for several seconds, then took a few bites, but mainly pushed food around her plate for the remainder of lunch. She didn’t say much else, either, appearing to listen to others, wearing a distant look as if she was off in her own wounded world.
Twenty-One
“You want to run over and ask? Kristie?”
Stephanie calling her name jerked Kristie’s thoughts out of the clouds and back to the present. “Sorry, what were you saying?” She paused in the act of slicing the cucumber and willed her brain to process what Stephanie had asked but came up empty.
“The first time or second?” Stephanie teased.
“Um, both. Guess I was, uh …”
“Distracted?” She laughed. “I noticed. That’s why I asked if you wanted to
go over and invite Mack to dinner.”
“Why? What did I …?” Shut up. As it was, Stephanie read Kristie like a roadside billboard.
“You can drop the act. I’ve seen you look across the street seventeen times in the past ten minutes.”
“I have not.”
“Oh, did I miss one? Eighteen?”
“Why would I be watching for Mack?” She resumed cutting to hide her face.
“You tell me,” Stephanie persisted.
“There’s nothing to tell.” Kristie had told Ray and Stephanie about Sheehan following her, Mack and Tony planting the tracker, and even that Mack had stayed overnight—on guard duty.
“A blind woman could see you two are attracted to each other.”
“He had my back with Sheehan, but nothing is going to happen with Mack and me.” She dumped the cucumber into the salad bowl and began peeling carrots.
“Why not? You two would be great together. He’s a lot like Eric.”
“Exactly. He’s Special Ops.”
“Just your type.”
“Not anymore.”
“Right.” Stephanie didn’t even try to hold back her smile while she sprinkled seasoning onto the burgers. “You’re into what, teachers and lawyers now, because they have safe jobs?”
“I’m not looking for another man. Why can’t I be happy alone instead of disappointed when a relationship doesn’t live up to what I had with Eric?”
“Who says it won’t? I mean, it will be different, but it might be better.”
“Are you forgetting Mack’s an NCO, and I’m a warrant officer?” Tinsley’s warning about Colonel Ball echoed in her head.
“You could transfer to the Reserve or the Guard.”
Her friend meant well, but this wasn’t helping. “Why should I give up my career? What if things didn’t work out? It’s not worth giving up my shot at flying MEDEVAC.”
Stephanie’s skeptical look made Kristie want to shrink away. “You’re afraid of losing another man, I get that, but don’t give up on the things you really want. After Sam died, I was suddenly a young, single mom scared shitless about how I was going to take care of myself and a child. Then Ray came back into my life. I knew what his job meant. I read the names of the military casualties they would list in the newspaper back then. I could have shied away and let fear keep me from taking another chance. But I would have missed out on a man who loves me more than I deserve and loves my daughter as his own.”
The first time Stephanie had ever mentioned her first husband to Kristie was after Eric died. She’d told her then to help her through things, but Kristie’s situation was different. She didn’t have a child. She had a job—for now—and could provide for and take care of herself.
“Yes, something could happen to Ray on a mission. Or driving to the store.” Stephanie threw up her hands. “He could get cancer. Or have a heart attack. He’s more likely to live another sixty years. Ray and I’ve had thirteen great years so far and some not-so-fabulous times—but that’s life,” she stated in her pragmatic way. “If you could go back in time, would you still marry Eric if you knew he’d be killed in action?”
“Of course.” Kristie didn’t hesitate. “I might ask him to get out of Special Ops, though.”
“And change him from the man you fell in love with?”
Ouch. She hung her head as Stephanie’s point pierced her heart. She loved Eric for who he was. As he was. Giving up serving in the Rangers—a step toward his dream of Delta—would have changed him. She couldn’t ask Mack to give it up, either.
“How’d you get over loving and losing Sam?”
“Realized I never would completely and that loving another man didn’t diminish what we had. As much as I loved Sam, I love Ray even more. Just because your ‘until death do us part’ came way too early doesn’t mean you can’t have a second chance at marriage and a family. Unless you make flying that damn helicopter your life. It won’t make you laugh or return your love. And it isn’t always going to be there to help you escape. What then?”
Unable to answer, Kristie dropped her gaze to avoid Stephanie’s challenging stare.
“My husband is as dedicated as any operator in the CAG, but they have more than their job. They have friends and families. Their service sometimes costs them their lives or their marriages, but life goes on. And when you find another shot at happiness, you grab on and hold tight. ’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” Stephanie picked up the plate of burgers. “I’m going to put these on the grill.”
Kristie finished peeling the carrot with shaky hands.
If anyone knew both her and Mack, it was Ray and Stephanie. Stephanie wouldn’t give her a shove in Mack’s direction if she didn’t think he was a great guy. She couldn’t shoot him down solely because he was divorced. Divorce was all too common in the military, especially in Special Ops units.
The time she’d spent with Mack had been easy and enjoyable. He’d been appreciative of the things she did—like cooking, and he even helped with the cleanup. No red flags there. His sense of humor was easy-going and fun without cutting people down. She shouldn’t base her opinion of him on physical attributes, but it didn’t hurt that he had an appealing face, great smile, and solid muscles.
What were his flaws? Thinking he knew best. Yeah, she’d seen that. She hadn’t minded his take-charge attitude too much. He’d actually listened. Okay, not a flaw. Based on what she’d seen of him with his girls and overhearing his conversations with them when he called each night, the man was doing all he could to stay connected to his daughters despite the divorce and work taking him away from them.
“Why did Mack and his wife get divorced?” she asked after Stephanie came back in and began washing the meat platter.
“That’s not my story to tell. If you want to know, you can ask him. I’ll just say he deserved better. Rochelle was no Kristie Donovan.”
What the heck did that mean? Instead of backing up her reasons to steer clear of Mack, Stephanie had given her a lot to think about. For so long, she’d clung to the idea that Eric had been the one for her. What if there wasn’t only one “right one” and she could have that kind of love again? What if she didn’t have to give up her dreams of a husband and kids?
Twenty-Two
Waiting at the stoplight, Kristie picked out a quarter from the car’s change holder. Heads with an eagle on the flip side. She twirled the quarter between her thumb and fingers. Heads or tails? Heads, I use my head and play it smart, or tails, I put my ass on the line.
The car behind her tapped on their horn after the light changed. She turned left, still holding onto the quarter. Letting a coin toss determine her future would be stupid. Why did it have to be an either-or decision?
She felt like a contestant on “Let’s Make a Deal,” where she could keep the current prize—her career—or give that up and maybe trade for something better. She didn’t know what was behind door number three. She might end up with a booby prize. If only she could peek behind the curtain and see where things might go with Mack.
She couldn’t give up her commission to date him. That defied common sense. But what about one date? Or two? They could fly under the radar. After all, who knew more about covert operations than Mack? Real life rarely lived up to fantasy and imagination anyway. They might not click. Or he might be a bad kisser. Then she could get him out of her mind.
On the other hand, it’d be nice to get attention from an appealing guy to ease the loneliness since losing Eric. If anyone questioned things, they could back off. She might get a verbal warning. A note in her file. Busted in rank. An Article—Stop it! Don’t think worst-case.
What Stephanie said last night—about not being able to fly forever—hit her with a dose of reality. Yes, she had a career she loved, but was it enough? Maybe now. But would it be in five years? In ten?
Even Jeremy inadvertently brought it up when he went from saying he missed his buddy, to joking in true, inappropriate Mille
dge form about taking care of her “needs.” It wasn’t Jeremy she wanted taking care of the needs Mack had resuscitated.
Dammit, she deserved the chance at the future she wanted—and would have if Eric hadn’t been killed in action. Who was the Army to say that more than eighty percent of its personnel were off-limits because they were enlisted? Being in different units, it wasn’t like she’d be giving Mack orders, or he’d compromise her authority. Hell, she could always play the poor-widow card.
If his truck wasn’t there, it’d be a sign. Divine intervention that would keep her from making a huge mistake. She cruised down the street, scarcely able to breathe, waiting for a sign to take control of her future.
In his driveway, Mack’s truck was backed in, ready should he need to make a fast getaway. She needed a fast getaway. No, she was going to do this. Before she lost her nerve.
She parked in the Lundgrens’ drive, then crossed the street and rang Mack’s bell. One. Two. Three. Maybe he wasn’t home after all. Four. Five. Six. He could have gone to dinner with a friend. Or out on a date. No. Then he would have driven. Right?
She flinched when the door swung open.
“Hey.” He looked stunned to see her.
“Hi. Can I, uh, come in?” Her tongue seemed swollen and thick in her mouth. Her heart pounded in her chest. This wasn’t a conversation for the front porch where a neighbor might see or overhear.
“Yeah.” He stepped aside, keeping some distance between them, his expression wary yet curious.
“You were right.”
“Right? O-kay. A guy always likes to hear that, but about what? I’d hate for us not to be on the same page here.”
The pressure in her chest didn’t let up. “Us—being friends. It’s, uh …” She shifted her weight as she scanned the room, her gaze finally returning to his.
He took a step closer, a smile spreading.
“I’d like to see if we could be more—than friends. If you still want …?”