Running Blind

by Gwen Hernandez

  Kurt’s lips thinned and he stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

  “I wouldn’t have bothered to provide specifics except that I see him frequently,” she said. “I hoped if he thought my boyfriend was real, he’d back off. But he’s the kind of guy who would verify my story, so I gave him your name and told him we had been dating a few years. Recently, I elevated your status to fiancé—” she wiggled her left ring finger, showing off the faux diamond ring “—hoping that if he thought we were more serious he’d finally get the hint and back off.”

  “Did he?”

  She sighed. “Not really.”

  “Why me? Why not Terrell?” Kurt asked, his voice sharp as a talon.

  As her closest friend, Terrell Washington would have been the obvious choice. The three of them had once been inseparable. “Because he was in a serious relationship with Selena already. If Glenn or his dad checked my story, I didn’t want it to fall apart that easily.”

  “And what if I had started dating someone?”

  “It was a risk, but last time I flew Dan and Alyssa to St. Isidore, Dan said you weren’t seeing anyone and hadn’t dated for a while.” She cringed internally.

  “You’ve been keeping track of my love life? Or the lack thereof.” He flipped a pencil across the desk, his voice laced with bitterness.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, softly. “I never thought it would go this far. But now I’ve been invited, practically ordered, to attend this party and to bring you. I think both Glenn and his dad want proof that I’m not lying to them. Glenn because he’s obsessive and cocky, and his dad because he wants to know he can trust me. If I show up alone, it throws my integrity into question.”

  Kurt stared at his fingers, his face impassive. After several seconds, he asked, “Why would a client invite you to this kind of family event?”

  Not the question she’d expected. “Because I saved his life.”

  His thick eyebrows rose. “How?”

  “I knocked him out of the way of sniper fire.”

  “Christ.”

  Caitlyn shrugged. “It was instinct. I’m not even sure the guy’s life was worth saving.” She’d had a lot of time to think about it after the initial rush of success. Had she been able to ignore her gut, or just drop to the ground to save her own hide, it might’ve solved everything. “Then again, that’s when I was invited inside and found Rose.”

  If Lambert had died, would Rose have been set free? Probably not. After all, Glenn would take over, and he was as bad as his father, if not worse.

  “You couldn’t let him die any more than you could stop yourself from breathing,” Kurt said with a hint of a smile. “There’s a reason we called you Braveheart.”

  Caitlyn looked away from his intense gaze. The sun shone on DC, making the monuments glow against the backdrop of red and yellow trees, but even in October it was already far too cold for her taste. The sooner she got back to Barbados the better.

  The squeak of Kurt’s chair drew her attention. He leaned back to look at the ceiling, hands clasped behind his head in a way that showcased his impressive biceps. An unwelcome shock of desire bolted down her spine.

  “I know I’m asking a lot,” she said. “And I know that it’s even more awkward given our history. But I wouldn’t expect you to do this for free. I can hire you.”

  “No you can’t.” He dropped his hands and sat forward, propping his forearms against the desk. “This isn’t about money. Never mind that I have a business to run, there’s a reason I don’t work in the field. There are things you don’t know about me that could change your mind.” He sighed. “And if I did say yes, there are things we need to hash out, because there’s no way I can act like a loving fiancé to you right now.”

  All she could do was nod. She was the one who needed his help, so she would do whatever he wanted, no matter how painful. “I know you were injured. I know it had to be serious for the Air Force to medically retire you.” She almost dreaded knowing. Dreaded the thought of him being hurt… “Will you tell me what happened?”

  Kurt pushed his chair away from the desk and stood, pausing for a second before he walked around. He stared at her for several heartbeats, the muscle in his jaw jumping. “I was on a call in Helmand Province when our bird took a hit.” He lifted the hems of his pants to reveal black plastic and shiny metal where his legs should have been. “This happened.”

  CHAPTER 3

  EVERY MUSCLE IN Kurt’s body tensed as he prepared for Caitlyn’s reaction.

  “Oh, shit,” she blurted at the sight of his prosthetics.

  He dropped his pant legs. “I was one of the lucky ones.” The shock and pity and sorrow in her eyes wouldn’t gut him if she were anyone else.

  Her lips pursed. She took a deep, shaky breath, squared her shoulders, and gave him a slow once-over that might have heated his blood under other circumstances. Setting her hands on her hips, she said, “Seems like you’re taking this whole Man of Steele thing a bit far.”

  He blinked.

  Then he laughed as a relieved breath tumbled out of him at her use of the nickname that wouldn’t die. “Yeah, I guess so. Though technically, it’s titanium and aluminum…”

  Holy hell, she was perfect. No tears, no apologies, no angry tirades about the unfairness of the world, no questions about why he bothered to get out of bed in the morning. Just humor. Just his old friend who still understood exactly what he needed.

  Except he had to check the impulse to kiss her right now. Though, really, that wasn’t a new problem.

  Her emerald eyes—yes, emerald, goddammit, green as the pendant his mother had worn every day—met his, and his stomach bottomed out. Twelve years since he’d last seen her, and she was even more beautiful than he remembered. Freckles still spattered every inch of skin bared by her V-neck T-shirt, and her auburn hair was pulled into a twist, the way she’d worn it in the Air Force. She still wore confidence as a second skin too.

  She bit her lower lip and his mind took off into dangerous territory. “So you think you can’t do the job because of this,” she said, her voice flat as she gestured to his legs.

  Her words slammed him back to reality with a sickening thud. “Yes.” Jesus, no need to belabor the point.

  “But you’re running a business, so your brain’s okay, right?” she asked. “No TBI?” Traumatic brain injury was common among vets, especially those who’d suffered catastrophic injuries. Her concern had merit.

  “No. I got lucky there. There was no explosion, and my helmet did its job.”

  She grimaced and gave a sharp nod. “How’s your aim?”

  “Probably still not as good as yours, but I do all right.” In their Air Force days, she’d been the best shot in the maintenance squadron, and probably the best on base. More than a few of her ex-boyfriend Aaron’s Security Forces buddies had lost their dignity by betting against her at the range.

  “Great. I don’t expect any trouble, but just in case…”

  An exasperated grunt escaped him. “You don’t get it. Unlike many amputees—even some of the older veterans—I’m lucky enough that Uncle Sam gives me the most advanced prosthetics money can buy. I’m highly functional. But I don’t have the tactical mobility to be effective in the face of a threat.”

  “I’m not hiring you for security. But if I were, it would be for your strategic mind. Your ability to create a plan and anticipate problems. That’s your real strength.” She waved her hand down his body like one of those game show models on The Price is Right, an appreciative expression on her face that made his skin tingle. “I mean, you’re obviously strong…”

  Her green eyes met his and he could almost imagine he saw desire there. Could almost imagine leaning in, pressing her to the wall, and— He gave himself a mental head shake. She’d made his “friend status” clear a long time ago in the worst possible way.

  But he couldn’t pull his gaze away from her mouth, from the little freckle that perched on the line at the edge of her upper
lip.

  Jesus. This was such a bad idea. He’d totally lied. He’d have zero trouble pretending to be the besotted fiancé. But playing the role, knowing she didn’t reciprocate, would be pure hell.

  And yet, how could he say no? He’d never been able to walk away from a friend in need. If she was just doing this to fend off an overzealous admirer, he’d tell her to shove it. But, one, this guy Glenn sounded more like potential stalker material, and two, her cause was just. If helping her meant saving innocent lives, not to mention her sister… What choice did he have?

  Fuuuck. “If I’m going to agree to this, we need to set some ground rules. The first being that you find yourself a new fake boyfriend once the party is over.”

  Caitlyn looked as if she’d eaten something bitter. “Fair enough.”

  “But before that, I think we need to clear the air.”

  “Unfortunately, I’m tied up all afternoon. Can you be back here at five?” Kurt asked, his expression making it clear that never would be preferable.

  “Of course. I know I sprang this on you, but I’m flying home in the morning, so I’ll be as flexible as you need.”

  Caitlyn killed the time with a six-mile run around the Mall and monuments that did nothing to calm her nerves, a late lunch at a deli in Arlington, and a short, fitful nap in her hotel room before returning to Steele’s offices.

  “Hi,” Tara Fujimoto said with a smile from behind the massive reception desk when Caitlyn entered. “I’ll let Kurt know you’re here.”

  “Thanks.”

  Caitlyn had met Tara briefly a few years ago. According to Todd Brennan—one of Kurt’s guys—she was Steele’s receptionist, business manager, supply ninja, and team mom, rolled into one. And she somehow did it all while looking as if she’d just stepped out of the pages of one of the fashion magazines Caitlyn’s mom still read from cover to cover.

  Tara was too short to be a model—maybe five feet out of those towering heels she wore—but she was petite, polished, and beautiful, with long, glossy black hair, wearing a tailored blue dress that was both professional and sexy.

  Next to her, Caitlyn probably looked freakishly tall and drab in her V-neck and jeans with running shoes, hair pulled off her face. But, as a pilot, comfort—especially given the Caribbean’s humidity—and deflecting unwanted interest were her top fashion priorities. Besides, even if she made an effort, she couldn’t compete with a woman like Tara. Caitlyn had inherited none of her mom’s sense of style.

  Which was fine. She’d rather not waste the energy.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?” Tara asked, after she’d spoken to Kurt over the intercom.

  Caitlyn declined and sat on the long, brown sofa, laying her parka over the armrest. Magazines were artfully scattered across a low, glass coffee table: Foreign Affairs, Guns & Ammo, Men’s Health. Tara returned to her work and the office was silent, save for the heat blowing through the overhead vent and the tapping of a keyboard.

  Five minutes later, as Caitlyn thumbed through an old issue of The Economist, Kurt emerged from the hallway behind a tall, thin black man who towered over Kurt’s six feet. The man buttoned his suit coat and slung a leather messenger bag across his chest.

  “Thanks for walking me through everything, Gordon,” Kurt said.

  “No problem. I should have the paperwork ready for your signature early next week.”

  “Perfect. Enjoy your weekend.”

  “You too.” The man waved to Tara and left the office.

  Kurt stopped at Tara’s desk. “You don’t have to stay. I can close up.”

  “I know,” she said, with a quick smile. “But I want to finish double-checking the numbers before I release everyone’s payments on Monday morning.” She glanced at Caitlyn and pitched her voice too low to hear from across the room.

  He shook his head. “No. Nothing like that. I just thought you might want an early start on the weekend.”

  “I don’t think Netflix will mind if I’m running a little late. Might as well get this done so I’m not stressing over it.”

  Netflix? In her interactions with the people at Steele, Tara had struck Caitlyn as a social creature. One who would always have a date or a night out with friends on her calendar. But what did she know? Maybe Tara was one of those super-friendly introverts who retreated to her home at the end of the day to recharge in solitude.

  Now that Caitlyn could understand.

  “I appreciate it,” Kurt said. “But remember, there are no bonus points for being a workaholic around here.”

  “Thanks, Pot.”

  He chuckled. “Sure thing, Kettle.”

  Aww, weren’t they flippin’ adorable? Caitlyn feigned interest in the magazine on her lap. Could she be disrupting a fledgling relationship with her request? Kurt and Tara would be beautiful together, but the thought left a sour taste in her mouth. Which was stupid. She had no right to be jealous, especially since she had no desire to get romantically entangled with a man she couldn’t walk away from, no matter how sexy.

  A long-term man was not part of her long-term plan.

  Kurt turned to her, his smile fading. “Ready?”

  Never. “Sure.” She grabbed her coat and followed him to his office. Through the east-facing window, the low sun washed the Capitol in gold, setting the colorful trees aflame. “Your view is incredible.”

  He gazed out over the Potomac. “I like it, though I’m sure it’s nothing compared to the view from your office.”

  The view from her cockpit was tough to beat. “A little variety is good.” She hung her jacket on a rack near the door and slid into the same seat she’d taken earlier.

  Kurt settled across the desk from her and rearranged a stack of papers. “So…”

  Might as well get to it. She let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask permission, or at least warn you that I’d used your name. I honestly never expected it to matter, but I figured if Lambert did follow up, you’d be both legit and intimidating.” She caught herself wringing her hands and clasped them together in her lap. Be strong. “As much as I love Terrell, even if he was single, Glenn would never believe I was dating a guy who owns a comic book store in Maine.”

  Kurt studied her, his expression unreadable, not leaving even the tiniest crack in his mask from which to gauge his thoughts.

  She swallowed hard. “Besides, there are very few people I trust in this world, and you’re still one of them.”

  “Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about you.”

  The air rushed from her lungs. Wow, direct hit. But then, she deserved it, didn’t she? “I’m sorry for how I treated you.”

  He twiddled a pencil between two fingers, but his eyes never left her face. “I get deciding you’re not ready for a serious relationship, especially with a guy who’s staring down nearly two years of training. And I know all we did was kiss before I left, but after two years of being friends, it felt significant. Like the start of something. I spun foolish, elaborate fantasies around you while I was gone, and you were back at Tinker fucking other men.”

  Her cheeks flamed. The urge to defend herself rose hot and eager as lava in a volcano, but she tamped it down. No matter how much it hurt him, she’d rather he believed the lie.

  “At any point during the ten weeks I was at Indoc,” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft, “you could have told me you didn’t plan to wait around.”

  That hadn’t been her plan at all, but telling him so would only confuse things. “I didn’t want to distract you, but I know I could have handled it better. I’m sorry.”

  His mouth twisted.

  Did he want her to be more contrite? More apologetic? There was no point. She couldn’t change what she’d done. He’d either get past it or not.

  “Why did you even kiss me then?”

  Her stomach dipped. Kissing him had been like sipping champagne. Delicious and sparkling and fun, and so, so hard to stop. She looked down at her hands intertwined in her lap.

  Somet
hing had changed in her that night. They’d been waiting outside after dinner at a popular Mexican restaurant in Oklahoma City while Terrell used the restroom. Kurt had leaned against his battered Explorer, hands in his shorts pockets, looking hotter than ever after all the workouts he’d done to prep for PJ training. And it hit her.

  He was leaving.

  She’d kept him at arm’s length for the two years since he’d joined their maintenance crew, initially because she was dating Aaron, a cop on base, and later because they were coworkers. And, ultimately, because he was the kind of man she could fall for too easily. Smart, fun, handsome, honorable to a fault, and sexy as hell. But Caitlyn hadn’t wanted to fall. Not ever again.

  She would not be her mother, who repeatedly gave away her heart, gave away her power to men, and received nothing but misery in return. Caitlyn would no longer allow herself to be that emotionally vulnerable.

  But that night, she’d wanted a taste of Kurt, of what she was missing out on. A little piece of him to carry with her when he was gone.

  “I don’t know,” she finally said, because how did you ever explain the magnetic draw of another person? And why you would run from it. “You were leaving and I wanted to know what it would be like.” Could she come up with a more pathetic answer? When it came down to it, she’d been selfish.

  His lips curled. “Not good enough, apparently.”

  God, that he could doubt his appeal. “You’re a great kisser.” In fact, part of her wouldn’t mind a repeat right now. “I just can’t do long term, and I sensed that you wanted more.” That wasn’t entirely untrue. “I wasn’t ready for that. I’ll probably never be ready. I’m sorry I didn’t handle it better.”

  “Me too.” Kurt sighed and gave a slight head shake. “This is ridiculous. It’s been twelve years. I should be able to move past something that happened when I was twenty-fucking-two years old.”

  She scoffed. “If you learn how, let me know.”

  His eyes narrowed at her slip.

  Rushing in before he could question her, she said, “I’m not asking you to forgive me, just to give me a chance now.” She stared at her hands. The cold weather and artificial heat had already dried her cuticles and caused a hangnail.