Aiden: Military Heroes (The One I Want Series Book 1)

by Ellie Masters

  As the OIM moved her from one catwalk to another, the blood in her veins raced inside her body with the same ferocity as the wind buffeting her outside. As a helicopter pilot, height wasn’t something she feared. How many times had she stared between her feet, watching the ground drop away? Or how about all the times she’d willingly rappelled out of a helicopter? She lived most of her life between ground level and five-thousand feet.

  She'd conquered any number of fears in life, survived the heat of battle, and never had she been afraid. That roiling sea, with its unrestrained fury, made her feel small, inconsequential, and terribly vulnerable.

  The fear running rampant in her body had to be a combination of the wind, the darkness, and the driving rain which had her gritting her teeth and struggling to take the next step. Rain soaked the thick fabric of her flight suit and the wind chilled her to the bone. Her teeth chattered and her hands shook.

  Hypothermia much?

  That walk took less than five minutes, yet she arrived in the throes of a full-bodied shiver. She'd have to walk back the way they came, and it wouldn’t be quick. Not with two stretchers to maneuver. How was she going to fly out of here when she could barely control her hands?

  “Take the hall to your left.” He spoke in one of those sexy Texas drawls, and the way his eyes had sparked when he laughed made her belly flutter. She didn't need to deal with school girl infatuation and decided that she needed to stay far away from this man.

  “Second left, and then take the first door on your right.” He guided her from behind, keeping pace as she stomped down the halls. Why was she angry? There was no reason to be this pissed off at a guy who was merely doing his job.

  It wasn't him. It was her reaction to him. The one thing in life she abhorred was not being in control, and he'd stolen all her self-control the moment those baby blues of his breached her defenses. He reminded her of a disaster of a man, one who took her heart and shredded it to pieces.

  Ariel took in a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. At least she now knew what stirred her anger. Except for the drawl, he was a dead ringer for Rick, the last disaster in a string of failed relationships with blue-eyed men.

  “Thanks,” she said, feeling a little calmer after that cleansing breath. Maybe another one, two, or four would help? Now that she knew why the OIM had triggered such a strong reaction, she could do something to counteract it. At least, that was the plan.

  She opened the door the OIM indicated and stepped inside. Andrew and Larry were already hard at work, leaning over two men stretched out on two gurneys. Their injuries hadn’t been a part of her pre-flight brief, but she’d listened in on the two men during the flight. There’d been some accident that crushed one of the men and knocked the other one unconscious.

  “How’s it looking, guys?” She glanced between them, admiring their efficiency.

  Andrew looked up. “ABCs on this one are stable, but the breaks are bad.”

  Airway, breathing, and circulation; those were the basics of first aid. She’d been trained in Buddy Care in the military and knew enough to put someone into the recovery position and how to stop most bleeding.

  “Can I help?”

  “I’ve got a good pulse in both feet, but he shattered his legs.” Andrew turned back to his patient.

  “Just tell me what to do.” With adrenaline kicking in, all thoughts of being cold moved from her mind. She rubbed her hands together, bringing warmth back to her icy fingers and crouched down on the other side of Andrew’s patient.

  “Help me with the splint, then we’ll get him loaded on the stretcher.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “What can we do?” The OIM asked.

  He’d mentioned his name, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember what it was. What she did remember was everything else he said, things about tossing her over his shoulder and…she blinked hard and forced those thoughts from her mind. The OIM squatted beside her and she couldn’t focus on what Andrew said.

  “Help Ariel,” Andrew instructed. “Support his leg while I put on the brace. It's hard to tell if his pelvis is fractured, but it looks like it might be. It’s going to be tricky getting him on the stretcher. I’ve given him all the pain meds I dare. Doesn’t look like there are any other injuries.” Andrew glanced at Ariel. “It looks pretty bad out there. What are your thoughts about flying out?”

  She pursed her lips. “It’s going to be dicey to be sure. I’ll need to check the wind speed before we take off. Book answer is Gulf safety take-off limits are set at forty knots, but I’ve been out in fifty-five. Not sure I’d want to take off in much more than that.”

  “What does that mean?” The OIM leveled his powerful gaze at her, making her gulp. “Can you leave or not?”

  Ignore those mesmerizing eyes, she forced herself to swallow against the lump in her throat. It was the only way to silence the fluttering in her belly. “Winds are pegging forty right now. It’s going to be dicey and those gusts are only going to intensify. Obviously, the sooner we get loaded the better.”

  Larry looked up from placing an intravenous line in his patient. “This one is also stable. Large knot on his skull. Not sure what’s going on in his head. Concussion for certain, but could be worse. How far out is the hurricane?”

  “Last I looked, 150 nautical miles.” She turned to address the OIM and was determined to treat him like any other Joe. They’re just eyes. “Where’s your weather station?”

  Penetrating, mesmerizing, incredibly blue eyes.

  Separated from the helicopter, she no longer had access to her weather radar or communication back to base.

  “Not far,” the OIM said. “I can take you there if you want.”

  She pursed her lips. “I can push a takeoff to sixty-knot winds. It’s ill-advised, but I’m thinking hanging out here is a worse option.”

  “The rig hasn’t sunk yet. It’s endured hurricanes before.”

  “A Category Five?” She asked.

  “Well, we don’t get those much in the Gulf, but yeah, she’s withstood one or two.”

  “Hmm, I don’t think we want to get out there only to find out we can’t take off.” She scrunched her brows. “Where’s your ride?”

  “Inbound behind you. These guys are our priority. Once you leave, our ride will land and take us out.”

  She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t see that happening. The gusts we’re getting are already bad. If they’re on their way, it’s best if they head back to base.” She glanced at his other two crew who hadn’t yet said a word and did quick math in her head. “I don’t have the weight allowance to take all of you, but I can take one, maybe two if we offload some gear.”

  “Duncan and Randall can go with you. I’ll hunker down here.” That was impressive. It didn’t take him a second to make that decision.

  She respected that, but then she had a thing for men who took charge. Some would say it was an unhealthy obsession. Next to blue eyes, men who wore authority like a second skin were a sure-fire path to her destruction. She should add that to the reasons to stay far away from this one.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’d take everyone if I could.”

  “You can’t change the law of physics. Don’t worry about me. I’ve seen worse than a simple storm.”

  Holy rocking that confidence!

  Blue eyes, authority, self-assuredness? He hit all her buttons. She responded too, dry mouth, lump in throat, and butterflies in her stomach which refused to sit still. Get a grip!

  She and the OIM held the splint in place while Andrew secured it around the injured man’s leg. Once that was done, she was shivering again.

  “How does it look, Andrew?” She glanced at Andrew and the deep-set scowl on his face.

  “It’ll do. Maybe another fifteen minutes to get them loaded on the stretchers.”

  That would give her enough time to check on the weather. She stood and took a step back. Mr. OIM rose with her.

  “You ready to check
it out?” Had his drawl thickened in the past five minutes?

  Ariel closed her mouth. She’d been looking at the prominent bulge in his pants. “Excuse me?”

  “The weather radar?” He arched a brow, then checked her out, letting his gaze linger on her tits.

  As cold as she was, her nipples had hardened into rocks beneath her flight suit. Thank goodness he couldn’t see them. She would be mortified if he knew.

  “You’re shivering.” His tone softened. “Can’t let that happen. Need you to fly everyone out. We need to get you into something dry.”

  Right, while leaving him behind. Alone to sit out the storm.

  “You know, if we went to the helicopter, I could try to dump more weight. I might be able to get all of us back to shore.”

  “I appreciate that.” He paused. “More than you know, but you saw what it was like out there. No way can we lighten that helicopter safely. Best we make sure you can take off and take it from there.”

  “Okay, it’s just…”

  He bent down to look her in the eye.

  “Sugar, I’ll be fine. It’ll be rough, but this place is built for this shit. Won’t be my first rodeo.”

  “How long do you think it’ll take to get them to the helideck?”

  “It’s not going to be easy. Twenty minutes maybe?”

  “Okay. I guess we have time to show me your radar.”

  “Sure, luv. Let’s go take a look at my radar.”

  She paused, then cracked a smile when he gave her a wink. Humor too? This man had it all.

  She waved to Andrew. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Andrew had the OIM’s other two crewmen setting up the stretchers. They should be ready to go by the time she got back.

  Chapter 4

  Aiden

  Aiden didn’t miss the spark which flashed in the pretty pilot’s eyes. If they had been anywhere else, he knew exactly how the evening would end; his place or hers with twisted sheets beneath them.

  As it was, all hell was about to break loose as Hurricane Julian slammed into them.

  She wanted to look at the radar, gauge wind speed, and decide whether to fly out of this shit storm. He couldn't believe she would even consider it. Hell, he thought she'd been crazy to land on the helideck. As it was, he would respect any decision she made. She was the only qualified individual to fly that helicopter, which meant only she could determine if it was safe to take off. But she’d be taking four of his men with her, two of whom were injured. If he thought for a minute their lives would be placed in greater danger in that helicopter rather than hunkering down on the rig, words would be exchanged between him and the pilot.

  A short trip through the crew quarters brought them to what functioned as a control center. He held the door open and let her step inside.

  “Weather radar is over there.” The rig had a fully functional weather station on board.

  Ariel didn’t waste any time. She familiarized herself with the controls then set to it. He stood silently while she pulled up information on the path of the storm, its speed, wind velocities, and whatever else she needed. Meanwhile, he stared out the windows as they rattled and shook with the advance of the storm.

  Hurricane Julian wasn’t fooling around. It wasn’t supposed to hit for another couple hours, but it seemed like it was far ahead of schedule. Hurricanes had been known to slow down as they approached land, and he hoped Julian chose to do that. It would increase the chances of getting his men off the rig and home to safety.

  Keeping his thoughts to himself, he planned for every contingency. If they got stuck, he needed to find the best place for everyone to shelter. Someplace protected from the worst of the winds, unlikely to be damaged during the storm, and yet close enough to the emergency lifeboats in case the unthinkable happened. Not that anything would happen to the rig. It had been built to withstand the storm of the century and then some.

  “Shit!” Ariel punched at the screen. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  The girl had a mouth on her.

  “That doesn’t sound reassuring.” He turned and crossed his arms over his chest.

  As if it were possible, her anger only made her more attractive. He loved the way her tiny fists punched the screen, and the way her lips twisted in frustration. A spitfire attitude promised many things in more intimate surroundings, but then he’d always been a man who enjoyed aggressive, private play.

  He really shouldn’t be thinking about sex, but she made that damn near impossible. Not with the flashing of anger behind her eyes, that tight body the flight suit did nothing to hide, or the fierceness she brought to her job. Everything about her screamed sex.

  “It’s a total clusterfuck.” She kicked the console. “That’s what this is.”

  “Such words from a lady.” He teased, trying to keep the mood light. “My ears are burning.”

  She spun around and cocked her hip forward. Sparks ignited in her eyes and he could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. “I’m pretty sure my language is the least offensive thing you’ve heard all week.”

  “True, but I have to say, you’d give the men a run for their money with that filthy mouth of yours. Good thing we don’t have a swear jar around here.” He unclasped his arms and leaned against the counter.

  “You’re kidding, right?” She glanced left and right, searching.

  He couldn't help but grin. In a place like this, they needed a swear barrel and it would need to be emptied daily.

  “One thing you’ll discover about me is that I seldom kid," he said. "Fortunately, we don’t have one here. Consider yourself safe.”

  She seemed to consider his words and he wondered if her thoughts traveled down any of the filthy paths he had already taken ten times over.

  “I bet,” she said. “You’d all be broke.”

  A sense of humor. He liked that.

  He gave a laugh. “True, but I do have one at home.” Let her extrapolate from that.

  “I’m guessing the wife doesn’t appreciate swearing around the kids?”

  Uh-oh, that was a wrong turn. He didn't need her thinking he was unavailable. Truth was, it had been a long time since he'd dated, but he was definitely unencumbered. Time to steer her in the right direction, but he needed to make sure she understood certain things. Surprises like his weren’t generally accepted well. If his daughter was going to be a deal breaker, best to know up front. It was time to test the waters.

  “When my nine-year-old spouted out cunt motherfucker I knew something had to change.”

  She placed her hand to her mouth and laughed. “Oh my, that is a mouthful for a boy.”

  “Well, I guess she wanted to be like her old man.”

  “A girl?” Her laughter spilled through the room. “Now that is priceless. I bet you need a swear jar and I bet your daughter is the richest nine-year-old in the neighborhood."

  “That might not be far off from the truth. It was most definitely not my finest parenting moment.”

  “I bet your wife was pissed. Of all the words for a girl to hear, let alone repeat…”

  “Yeah, I got an earful, but not from the Missus.” One of the reasons he didn't date, other than working on an oil rig two weeks out of every month, was because he spent every minute of his time ashore with his kid.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I meant to say there is no Missus. Just me, Callie and Jewels, her pet iguana.”

  “An iguana? I expected a dog or cat for a girl, or a fluffy hamster, not a salmonella infested reptile.”

  “Well, Callie isn’t like most girls, and I'm surprised you'd stereotype considering what you do for a living.” His comment seemed to give her pause.

  She gave him a look. “So, are you divorced or…?” Her question held more than casual interest. He was willing to feed her interest; he was interested in her but would begin with the truth first. Best to get that shit out of the way at the start.

  “Widowed.” One of those gut-wrenching twists
grabbed him in the gut. It never got easier, but he made a promise to his late wife. He would honor her dying wish no matter how impossible it seemed. “A little over eight years.”

  “I’m sorry.” She placed a hand over her heart.

  “Don’t be. I had a great marriage. We had Callie, and I have the best memories.”

  “How did…” She seemed hesitant to ask the question polite conversation demanded.

  He wasn’t going to leave her hanging. He’d had years to get over Samantha’s death. It was far past time to move on. He made a promise he hadn’t kept and something about this pilot told him it might be time to rectify that.

  “Breast cancer, the aggressive kind. They found cancer when Sam was pregnant. Already aggressive, there were few options; start chemo and lose the baby, or wait and deal with it after. Sam didn’t hesitate, even knowing what delaying treatment would mean.” The cancer had eaten at Samantha’s body while she nurtured their growing daughter in her womb. “Chemotherapy started after Callie’s delivery, but it was too late, the cancer too advanced.”

  “Aiden…” Samantha’s voice trailed off. Too weak to speak, she tried nonetheless.

  “Shh, you don’t have to say a word.”

  “I know.”

  All the color had left her face. He stared down at her pale complexion and the wan smile she struggled to keep for him. Such a trooper, she remained strong until the end.

  “I…” Weakness pulled at her and she closed her eyes.

  He brushed the hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. “You don’t have to say it. I love you too.” He knew what she wanted to say, but couldn’t bear the heartbreak it would bring. Sam wanted him to move on, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

  Too frail to move, her fingers twitched on the starched hospital sheets. He took her hand in his and rubbed the pad of his thumb over the thin crepey skin and spider veins. Her eyes pinched with pain. Relentless in its attack, the cancer had settled into her bones, bringing unrelenting pain.