Hotshot

by Jo Leigh

  Just saying those words calmed his heartbeat and settled his stomach. “Since I was seven I wanted to be a pilot. I wanted to be a fighter pilot when my dad took me to see the Thunderbirds at an air show. At fifteen I got my pilot’s license. I was first in line to join the ROTC in high school. There was nothing in my life that I wanted more than to strap on an F-15 Strike Eagle.

  “My goal had nothing to do with serving my country, with honor, with duty or my fellow citizens. I became a fighter pilot because it was the coolest damn job on the planet. And because it was my first-class ticket to the hottest women.”

  Even more laughter of the feminine kind, but he didn’t want to reach only the ladies. He wanted airmen of all stripes.

  Luke latched on to a pretty blonde sipping a big old iced coffee who hadn’t stopped staring at him, despite the fact that her boyfriend kept nudging her to get her attention.

  “What I didn’t know,” he continued, “about life, about what was important, about myself, was a lot. I had a great family and they supported me and taught me things I’ll always be grateful for, but I learned who I am and what I’m made of because I enlisted in the U.S. Air Force for all the wrong reasons. I am the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.”

  His gaze shifted to the boyfriend, who was paying attention now.

  “A pilot I met when I was in training told me that there was only one real path to finding satisfaction in life, and that was to focus my efforts and my strengths on a cause that was bigger than myself. Because my ego was a whole lot larger than my good sense, that lesson didn’t sink in for a long, long time.

  “Let me go back a bit. To when I got into Fighter Pilot Training. I was designated, by real pilots, as Boner-5. My fellow classmates were Boners-1,-2,-3,-4, all the way up to Boner-8. At least, we started out at eight. That’s because the washout rate was so high, nobody bothered to find out newbie’s real names. Man, we were hot shit, ready to take on the world and fly the fast movers. One through eight.

  “To give you some perspective—Air Force Pilot Training receives fifteen thousand applications per year. There are two thousand admissions per year. One thousand-one hundred airmen graduate from flight school each year. Fifty pilots are accepted at Seymour-Johnson Air Force Base in North Carolina for Fighter Pilot Training on the F-15 Strike Eagle. The average number of pilots who graduate from Fighter Pilot Training is eight. My class graduated five pilots. Of those five pilots, one became Top Gun. It wasn’t me.”

  SARA LEANED BACK in her chair as she tried to process what she’d heard. She’d been surprised at the motel, hearing his vulnerability, seeing it, but his words on stage had shocked her.

  Who was this guy? What had happened to the Luke who’d had the world at his fingertips, who never lost his cool? Not during finals, not in ROTC, certainly not in bed. She couldn’t remember a single time that Luke had truly been humble. He’d been scared when he’d tried to kiss her for the first time. But by the third kiss, he’d mastered the course, and hadn’t looked back.

  This made no sense. She felt off balance.

  He’d just admitted in front of God and everyone that he’d joined the air force to meet women. He’d confessed and she was sitting right here. She’d been sure of that, but she’d never in a million years expected to hear it from him. Not at Lefty’s on open-mike night. “You okay?”

  O’Malley’s voice snapped her back to the room. “Yeah. Fine.” She threw him a smile, briefly remembered that she’d have to watch herself more in front of O’Malley, nearly forgot to resent the fact, then went back to staring at the man on the stage. This imposter wearing a Luke suit.

  If anything, she’d have thought becoming a pilot would have made him worse. How could he have become this guy? She couldn’t wrap her brain around it.

  But she’d seen him in the conference room. He’d had no idea about tonight. The way he’d gripped his pen! As if the next word was the most important thing he’d ever write.

  She should be looking at the crowd. He was still talking, although Sara didn’t think she could stand it if he said one more terrific thing. Dammit, she hated him. She had every reason in the world to hate him. He’d treated her horribly. Dumped her after five years of pretending to love her. No one could change this much in seven years. It wasn’t possible.

  She turned in her seat, facing the crowd instead of Luke. Some of them had left already. Not as many as she’d expected. But people had laughed when it was called for, paid attention. There was even a small crowd gathered at the back of the room. Okay, so maybe a crowd was an exaggeration, but these folks were listening.

  Many were women, which she’d anticipated. It didn’t matter, though. Because, by and large, the faces watching Luke were attentive and interested in more than his body. That’s what she needed. Someone who would keep them looking, keep their cell phones in their pockets. Get them engaged and imagining new possibilities.

  She’d had a lot of experience in public relations. Listened to so many recruitment speeches, she could recite the basics in her sleep. The only thing that really got to an audience was when the speaker told the truth. She knew that for a fact. She’d chosen her speakers based on their ability to connect. There’d been dozens of candidates for the positions, but the six who’d made it had been those who’d bared their souls. Each one of them had shared from the heart.

  That’s what Luke was doing. But where had he gotten that heart?

  Not a soul in the audience had any doubt that he was a hotshot fighter jock, even though he wasn’t in the flight suit he’d wear on the tour. Central casting could not have done better. He looked like a hero. And real heroes didn’t lie about what counted.

  She glanced at the stage. At how it appeared he was speaking to one person. Her gaze followed his, and found a beautiful girl at the end. Okay, that was better. That, at least, made sense.

  Despite what she’d heard, Sara wasn’t yet willing to say Luke was a different man, but she would concede that differences existed. He’d asked for help, seemed dedicated to making the job more important than himself. It could be it was all bullshit. In fact, that was a much more logical conclusion. He could have planned his speech, knowing he’d have to appear to be humble, appear to be earnest.

  But why? Why come at all if he was just going to lie?

  Whether he was lying or telling the honest-to-goodness truth, it was working. He had the crowd, and if he could get the crowd in here, with no notice and not nearly enough time to prepare, he would be one hell of an effective speaker. Fine. It meant she’d have to rearrange her head, but she could do that. She was a professional.

  O’Malley leaned over closer. “What was that nod about?”

  “I believe we have a recruiter, Sergeant.”

  “Lotta women gonna be joining up, that’s for sure.”

  She looked at O’Malley. “You have a problem with that?”

  “What do you think?”

  She smiled as she turned back to watch Luke. O’Malley thought women should run the world, no joke. He’d been raised by a single mother and five older sisters. No wonder she got along with him so well.

  Luke loved women, but he didn’t understand them. Which didn’t matter, not for her purposes. He understood the job and that’s all she required from him. She might never uncover the truth about what had changed him—if he’d really changed—but who cared? What counted was that the tour could move forward confidently with a full roster of speakers.

  Even if he’d miraculously turned into a saint, it didn’t change the past. Nothing could.

  LUKE HAD TALKED FOR twenty-two minutes and answered three questions. Then he’d been met by a few people at the foot of the stairs. Which would be great on the tour, not so great now. It was late and Sara was exhausted.

  “Want me to do it?” O’Malley asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Extract him?”

  “I was thinking about having another cup of decaf, but I suppose you should.”

  O�
��Malley gave her a look and mumbled something she knew was unflattering, not to mention disrespectful, as he entered the fray.

  She concentrated on her coffee, which was down to the dregs, and didn’t look up until the two men were standing next to the table. She grabbed her purse from the back of her chair and stood; her gaze met Luke’s when she looked up.

  “Captain,” he said.

  “You ready?”

  “Actually, I’d like to get a cup of coffee and make a pit stop before we go.”

  His voice sounded calm, his look easy, but then his jaw twitched. Nervous? Playing her? She closed her eyes, knowing she had to let go of motive and deal with actions. “Go,” she said. No matter what, he deserved a few minutes alone.

  When he walked past, a chair from the next table made him shift closer and the back of his hand brushed against hers. It wasn’t intentional, and with a wipe against her service pants, it was gone. Sara decided to get Luke his coffee so they could get on the road.

  When he returned, he accepted his cup with a nod, sipped it, smiled. “Thanks.”

  “Let’s go.”

  O’Malley went to the parking lot via the back door as she and Luke walked toward the curb.

  “Listen, Sara,” Luke said, and Sara paused to look at him. He seemed shaken, but that could be adrenaline.

  “I know I messed up there, too many numbers, not enough about what it takes to get into the flight program. I haven’t had the chance to put it in order.”

  She cleared her throat as she regrouped. “Luke, you did a great job. This was a difficult room, and you made it yours.”

  He ran a hand through his dark hair, leaving a cowlick sticking up in the front. “The other speakers are really good. I can be, too.”

  She blinked, felt her own frustration that she wasn’t prepared to deal with this Luke. First though, she had to know one thing. “The things you said up there, were they what you were working on back at the motel?”

  “Oh, hell, no,” he said, the last word buried in a laugh. “I was scared to death, and just started talking.” He glanced away. “I don’t remember half of it, but I won’t let that happen again. I swear.”

  If this was acting, it was far beyond anything she could catch. She felt his anxiousness, his need to please her, his fear that she would make him leave. When her hand went to his arm, it was a jolt for both of them. “You did well. I mean it. I was watching the crowd, and you had them.”

  “I don’t care about them,” he said, looking at her hand, then her eyes. “I won’t let you down. There are four more days, and I don’t care if I have to work 24/7, I’ll nail this. Your tour will be a success, Sara.”

  She should have taken her hand back, because the contact wasn’t helping, but she couldn’t. Whatever else might be true, he had come here for her. She believed that now, and if it came back to bite her in the ass, so be it.

  Of course, believing him made everything more complicated. How she’d been treating him, for one thing. If he’d been a stranger, would she have thrown him into the pit like this? Shanghaied him into a public performance where he could have crashed and burned?

  No. She would have bent over backwards to do anything she could to help. Now, she released him, embarrassed that she’d acted so unprofessionally. Damn it, she had to reassess everything. Where was O’Malley?

  “Sara?”

  She met his gaze again, that same concern was there, so evident in his eyes. Luke had never wanted to be anything less than the best. When it mattered to him, he would go to any lengths to be number one. That could work in his favor, and her own. “You’re part of the team now, Solo. We’ll make it happen, and you won’t have to get on a stage again until you’re prepared. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure of that. If there’s something you need to talk over, you come to me, okay? I’m good at this stuff, and I can help you hone your strengths.”

  He stepped closer, and for the first time that night he seemed relaxed. Pleased. It was his hand now, on the back of her arm. “Thanks.” “No problem.”

  “So we’re…?”

  “We’re on the same team. I wasn’t prepared for that, given our history, but I believe you told me the truth. You came here to help. You’re helping.”

  He nodded, searching her face, her eyes. She let him look. It was her turn to pitch in, to show him she was capable of being the kind of leader he could count on.

  It would be easier if the feel of his hand didn’t make her knees weak. But that was her problem, not his. “Never thought I’d hear you admit you didn’t make Top Gun.”

  “Yeah, that surprised me, too. It was a hard pill to swallow. Still is, sometimes.”

  “I’ll bet you were runner-up.”

  He grinned. “You’d be right.”

  Where was he? If O’Malley was doing this on purpose…

  “Look, about tonight,” she started, but when he casually leaned into her personal space the way he used to, she almost choked. “If it seemed unfair throwing you out there…” She shifted closer to the curb, pretended she was searching for O’Malley. “I had to see if you had the right instincts for a live tour.”

  “Of course,” he said. “I needed to know that, too.”

  When she looked at him, he smiled. She couldn’t help smiling back.

  The van swerved into the loading zone, and the two of them took their seats. During the quiet ride Sara thought about Luke, and how he’d become a whole different kind of problem than she’d ever anticipated.

  DESPITE THE DECAF, Sara’s mind had still refused to settle forty-five minutes after she’d gone to bed. It was late, and she had an early-morning meeting, but she couldn’t seem to slow down. She adjusted her position until it felt right and concentrated on her breathing. She had a goto-sleep routine, flexing and releasing her muscles from her toes to her head, which had always worked for her. It hadn’t tonight. Yet.

  The tour would start in four days and there was so much to do, so many details dangling that she should, by all rights, be thinking about nothing else. Instead, big surprise, her thoughts kept returning to Luke. How he’d looked at her in the gym, how he’d walked across the stage at Lefty’s. How it had almost felt like old times waiting for the van.

  Her eyes closed as she sighed, tired of her confusion. It didn’t seem to matter how many times she told herself their relationship was strictly professional, he still ran through her like a low-frequency sound wave.

  Four times she’d caught herself remembering details from their first date, then pulled back, turned her thoughts to anything but Luke. The fifth time, she’d given in. She wasn’t sure why that memory was so insistent. Because they’d been so young, perhaps? Because it had been so simple? They’d both been sixteen. Five months separated their birthdays, and she’d enjoyed teasing him about her being older. Only kids joked about that.

  He’d worn jeans, Air Jordans and an Eminem T-shirt. She’d snuck a spritz of Romance perfume from the mall and after a dozen changes, finally went with the pink shirt that made her boobs look bigger.

  They’d been terrified in the third row of the Multiplex. Galaxy Quest was on the screen, not that she’d paid any attention. All her senses were tuned in to the boy next to her. She’d felt him shaking when he’d placed his arm on the back of her seat. Who was she kidding? She was the one who’d been shaking so hard her teeth had chattered.

  He’d tried to kiss her three times. The first one turned into a cough. The second, she worried she might be sick. The third time, he’d put them both out of their misery and kissed her full on the mouth, as if he’d done it a hundred times before. And even though she’d practiced her first kiss over and over again, on her pillow, on the back of her hand, on the inside above her elbow, the real thing had been like fireworks, like an earthquake. Neither one of them had so much as thought about parting their lips.

  They’d walked out of that movie boyfriend and girlfriend. She’d been madly in love, as only a sixteen-yearold can be. He’d told her she w
as the prettiest girl in school. He’d asked her if maybe, one day, she might like to go flying with him. If his dad said it was okay. When they’d reached her front porch, it seemed as if he’d grown a foot and aged a year.

  A couple of months later, they’d moved way past kissing. He’d wanted everything, every way, everywhere. She hadn’t had a problem with that. Even when the where had been dangerously stupid.

  It surprised her that her hand, the one he’d brushed at Lefty’s, was on her stomach. Low. Moving down. She whipped it up, away, over the covers.

  Nothing good could come of letting that train of thought get to the end of the line.

  Which pretty much guaranteed it would take a house falling on her head to stop it.

  Her hand slipped beneath the covers, all the way. She tensed even before her finger touched her clit. Behind closed eyes were images from the past, sounds, one after another as real as the room, as her heartbeat.

  At the debate, senior year. In a broom closet. One door away from a room full of people. Professors. Her parents. His parents. A crying child. Luke behind her, lifting her skirt, pulling down her panties. His right hand over her mouth, his cock hard and slamming into her as she braced against the door.

  The sound of his panting in her ear, his moan when he came so loud she was certain they’d be caught.

  She’d had to bite the back of her own hand when he spun her around and finished her with his mouth.

  When she came in her motel-room bed.

  5

  WITH TWO DAYS UNTIL the start of the tour, Luke had been working his ass off, they all had. They’d thrown in the towel at nine-thirty with orders to get some dinner and some sleep.

  Luke pushed open his motel-room door and headed for the shower, a private shower with lots of water at the perfect temperature, something he’d never take for granted. He groaned as the heat hit the back of his neck.