“Okay,” he conceded. “Where do we go from here? Because I’m not going to lie to you. I want to see you again. I’m not talking booty calls, either. I know you come through Kabul every couple of weeks and there’s always the chance that I could fly to Kandahar once in a while.” He shrugged. “We could just grab a bite to eat, or maybe catch a movie at the rec center.”
Jenna studied him for a moment before turning away to stare moodily out the window. Chance wished he knew what was going on in her head. He didn’t miss how she drummed her fingers against her thigh, and he knew she was considering his offer. He realized that he’d told her the truth when he’d said he wanted to get to know her. The sex was amazing, but he wanted more. He wanted to know what made her tick; he wanted to know what she liked. He wanted to know why she’d become a pilot, and why she avoided guys in the military. Most of all, he wanted to know if they could make a go of a real relationship. From what he’d seen so far, he believed they could.
She turned around to face him, and in the instant before she guarded her expression, he saw the vulnerability in her eyes. “Okay, fine.”
“What?” He was certain he’d misheard.
“I agree,” she said smoothly. “Since we’re speaking candidly, then I admit that I want to see you again, too. I’d be crazy not to.”
Chance felt something shift in his chest. He had looked for an argument at the very least. The last thing he’d expected was for her to agree so quickly. He couldn’t stop the grin that spread over his face.
“That’s great.”
“I do have one condition.”
He only just prevented his shoulders from sagging with defeat. He’d known it couldn’t be so easy. “Okay, I’m listening.”
“If I agree to see you again, it’s on the condition that this remains casual.”
“Define casual.”
“As in, no commitments and we’re both free to see other people.”
Chance bit back the snarl of denial that sprang to his lips. Just the thought of Jenna with anyone else unleashed something feral inside him. But he knew if he protested and insisted on any kind of exclusive relationship, she’d balk and he’d never see her again.
“So in other words,” he said, allowing a trace of sarcasm to color his voice, “we’re back to the booty calls.”
“Call it whatever you like, but those are my conditions.”
“Why?” he demanded. “Why are you so determined to keep this superficial?”
He watched as a range of emotions crossed her face, almost too fleeting to identify. Hurt. Indecision. Determination. Despite what she’d said about never having dated a pilot, Chance was convinced that someone had treated her bad.
“Look,” she said tightly. “It’s not personal. I just prefer to keep it casual, and not have everything else get in the way.”
“Everything else? What—our careers? Our families? Our feelings?”
Jenna sighed and pushed her fingers through her hair, sweeping it back from her face. “I just think it would be easier if we kept everything else out of it. I don’t want to compete with you.”
What the…?
Chance stared at her in bemusement, but there was a part of him that understood her fear. Not that he believed for one second that he would ever want to compete with her, but he’d seen it happen with other pilots. The fact that she believed he would fall into that category irritated the hell out of him.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said drily. “Look, I’m not saying that it doesn’t happen, but it wouldn’t happen with us.”
Jenna gave him a doubtful look. “Oh, no? What makes you so sure?”
He grinned. “Because my job is definitely more dangerous and more important than yours. And even though I’ve never seen you fly, I know I’m the better pilot.” As her mouth fell open, he laughed. “Relax. I’m totally kidding. I don’t believe any of that for a second.”
Even saying the words aloud sounded arrogant and he hoped that by teasing her a little, she’d realize how ridiculous it was for her to think he’d act that way.
She shrugged and gave him a sheepish smile. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I don’t, either. But I do believe we’re better off avoiding a committed relationship.”
“How do you figure?”
She didn’t meet his eyes. “Speaking from my own experience, pilots have this weird inability to remain monogamous. Even though you think you want a relationship, eventually you’d have the urge to explore other waters. I just think that if we both acknowledge that now, we’ll save ourselves a little bit of heartache down the road.”
“You really do believe that?” he asked, incredulous. Admittedly, he hadn’t done much in his six years as a pilot to dispel the reputation of being a player, but this was different. He was different. He was finally at a place in his life where he was happy with who he was, and he no longer felt he had anything to prove.
“I haven’t seen any evidence to the contrary,” she replied stiffly.
Give me a chance.
He almost said the words aloud, and just barely bit them back. No way was he going to beg. He wanted to show her how wrong her perceptions were, but he could see by the expression on her face that if he continued to argue with her, she would walk away. He told himself to take whatever she was willing to give, and show her that he was different. Eventually, she’d learn to trust him.
“What about you?” he asked. “You’re a pilot. Do you fall into that same category? Are you unable to maintain a monogamous relationship?”
She gave him a faint smile. “I’ve never wanted to, so it’s never been an issue.”
Chance didn’t like the implications of her words. He didn’t want to think about her with anyone else, doing the things she’d done with him. He was an idiot. Every brain cell that still functioned told him to walk away from this, because to do anything else was just asking for trouble. But then again, he’d never been one to take the easy way out. He’d always been a risk taker, and this was no exception. He could make this work.
“Okay, fine,” he said, spreading his arms wide. “I agree to your terms. We keep it casual. No strings, no commitments.”
“Really?” She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly suspicious.
“I’m getting a distinct feeling of déjà vu here,” he said, smiling. “I’m pretty sure we had this conversation that night at Pope airfield.”
“Yes, but I didn’t know you were a pilot, and we both thought that was just a one-time hookup. I never expected to see you again.”
“Which begs another question. Is this a public relationship, or do we keep it under wraps?” He knew from her shuttered expression what her answer would be. “Under wraps. Got it. So we can forget about grabbing a movie or a bite to eat, huh? This is strictly about sex. I think your roommate might have already guessed there’s something going on.”
“I trust Laura,” Jenna said, “but I really prefer that no one else in my unit—or yours—knows about us.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he said, hating the conditions she imposed but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. “I have my own housing unit, so as long as we’re discreet…” He glanced at his watch. “I’d suggest we head over to the chow hall and grab some breakfast, but that’s probably out of the question, right?”
Jenna pressed her lips together. “Not a good idea. I mean, technically there would be no reason for us to even know each other, and I’d rather not give people something to talk about.”
Chance thought about her precipitous flight from the gym and how he had chased her into the dust storm. He wasn’t stupid enough to remind her that they’d probably stirred up all kinds of gossip, not to mention the fact that the two mechanics in the hangar knew he’d come out here looking for her an
d hadn’t returned for nearly an hour. Would that generate talk? You bet. But he just nodded.
“I’ll take off, then. You might want to wait a few minutes before you head out.” He hesitated, not wanting to leave her, although he knew there were other, more practical reasons why they shouldn’t be seen leaving the MH-60 together. They could both find themselves in a lot of trouble if anyone discovered what they had been doing. “You’ll be okay? The visibility is zero out there. It would be easy to get disoriented, lose your way.”
She drew in a deep breath and smiled, but it was clearly forced. No matter what she might say, he’d bet money on the fact that she wasn’t any happier about this arrangement than he was. She might think she wanted to keep it casual, but he had a feeling she wasn’t a casual type of gal.
“You go,” she said. “I’ll be fine, really.”
“Okay, then.” He stepped toward her and caught her face in both hands, covering her mouth with his in a possessive kiss. He knew he’d surprised her, but he didn’t pull away until he felt her body sag against his, and her hands crept to his shoulders. Only when she was returning his kiss did he step back, noting her bereft expression with satisfaction. “I’ll see you around.”
Before he could change his mind, he swiftly unlocked the door and slid it back, stepping out into the scalding wind and closing the door behind him. Leaving her like this went against his better judgment. But he’d play by her rules.
For now.
9
JENNA SAT ALONE IN THE helicopter after Chance left, trying to collect her thoughts and pull together the shreds of her shaky self-composure. No guy had ever made her respond the way he had, as if he knew her body better than she did. And what was it about him that made her want to peel her clothes off the second he drifted into her orbit? Sure, he was good-looking and had a body honed to perfection, but so did a lot of other guys, and she’d never found herself spread naked across their laps. And in a military helicopter, no less! She hated to think what might have happened if anyone had discovered them. She prided herself on her self-control, yet it seemed whenever Chance was near, she lost it completely.
Could she really have a casual relationship with him? She recalled the intensity of his kiss, the confidence and skill he’d shown in handling her body. There was absolutely nothing casual about the guy. He radiated a vibrant energy that was impossible to ignore. She still couldn’t believe she’d had sex with him in a Black Hawk. If her commanding officer ever found out, she’d find herself grounded for a lot longer than just a few days.
Was this how her mother had felt when she’d first met Jenna’s dad? Jenna had heard the story enough times. Lisa Colbert had just graduated from college and had rented a summer cottage on Cape Cod with her roommates. On a whim, they’d decided to book a one-hour helicopter tour of the Cape and islands, and Erik Larson had been their pilot. But when the tour was over, he’d asked Lisa for a date. At thirty-five, he’d been nearly thirteen years older than her. As handsome and confident as he’d been, he must have seemed bigger than life. He’d flown her to the island of Martha’s Vineyard for dinner, and then back to Cape Cod, where they’d been nearly inseparable for the next two months. And when the summer had drawn to a close, he’d proposed.
But, according to her mom, Erik Larson was an adrenaline junkie, and when he wasn’t flying, he looked for other ways to get his fix of excitement. She’d said there was an emptiness inside him that neither she nor Jenna could fill. He drank too much, and he liked to gamble. And after Jenna’s mom had become pregnant, he’d begun to have affairs. Jenna recalled the bitter arguments and her mother’s tears. Her father would leave the house and sometimes wouldn’t return for days. Those were the times that scared Jenna the most. When she was older, she’d learned that during those periods, he’d take one of his helicopters and fly to New Jersey, usually to the casinos, where he’d indulge in a spree of drinking, gambling and womanizing.
Her parents had finally divorced when she was eight years old, and Jenna had spent every subsequent summer on Cape Cod with her dad. He’d tried to be a responsible father, but he hadn’t been very good at relationships. What he was good at was flying helicopters, and he’d had Jenna behind the controls of a small Bell 47 before she was a teenager. At first, she hadn’t loved flying. In fact, it had scared the hell out of her. But she’d desperately wanted to please her father so she’d stuck with it. When they were in the cockpit together, she’d had his undivided attention. It was the only time that Jenna felt he really saw her as anything other than a responsibility. He’d been a patient instructor, and when she’d finally mastered the controls, she’d actually believed that he was proud of her. And what had begun as a chore had eventually transformed into a true love for flying.
Erik Larson still operated a small charter helicopter company, providing aerial tours of Cape Cod and the islands, survey flights, photography services and occasional lift work. Since her mother had remarried, Jenna actually spent more of her free time on Cape Cod, helping run the charter business, than she did with her mother and stepfather. But she felt no closer to her father now than she had when she was a child. In fact, the only time she really felt a connection to him was when they were flying, or talking about flying.
Chance wasn’t at all like her father. She knew that. Her dad had lived with a lot of internal demons that had made it difficult, if not impossible, for him to have normal relationships. But Chance had a lot in common with the pilots she’d known since she’d joined the military. Men who put their careers ahead of their families. She didn’t really blame them, because the military demanded complete and total commitment. Which was why she couldn’t see herself married to a pilot.
Eventually, she wanted to have a family, but only when she was ready to put her own military career behind her, and only when she met the right guy—preferably a civilian. So it was important that she not develop any attachment to Chance. She knew instinctively that the military was his life. He’d never voluntarily leave. Which was why their relationship could only ever be casual.
When she felt like she’d regained some perspective, she made her way carefully back to her housing unit, skirting the hangar and glad for the extra pair of goggles she’d found in the cockpit. The dust storm showed no signs of abating. If anything, it had grown worse, and the wind-propelled sand stung as it struck her exposed skin. By the time she reached her hut, she was coated in dust and nearly gagging from the amount of sand she had ingested.
“There you are!” Laura exclaimed as Jenna burst through the door and closed it hard against the wind. “We’re supposed to be over at the operations shack in fifteen minutes.”
Despite the fact all aircraft were grounded, crew members were required to sit through an in-brief each morning. But surely she hadn’t been gone that long? Jenna glanced at her watch, shocked to see how much time had passed since she’d left to go to the gym. She wouldn’t even have time to shower. Laura was already fully dressed and impatient to leave.
“Okay,” Jenna assured her. “I’ll be ready in ten. Why don’t you head on over and I’ll be right behind you.”
Laura arched an eyebrow. “I guess I don’t have to ask if your boyfriend found you. You have razor burn on your face.”
Before Jenna could protest that Chance was not her boyfriend, Laura pulled her goggles and scarf on and stepped out into the storm. With a muttered curse, Jenna quickly stripped, grateful to have the small hut to herself. She used a water bottle to wash up, examining her face in the small mirror next to her bed. Laura was right; the area around her mouth and jaw looked slightly abraded. Even her lips looked bruised, and Jenna’s body tingled at the memory of Chance’s kisses.
Shaking the dust out of her hair, she pulled it back into a neat braid and pinned it into place, before swiftly yanking on her uniform and boots. With five minutes left to spare, she pulled on her goggles and left the B-Hut at a dead run, bending her head into the dry wind and using a clean handk
erchief to protect her nose and mouth.
She was the last one to arrive at the operations shack, a small wooden structure near the flight line, where pilots assembled each morning for mission assignments.
There were already a dozen or more crew members standing around the briefing table. She recognized several of them from her previous visits to Kabul Airbase, but only knew a couple of them personally. With the exception of Laura, they were all square-jawed men, including Captain Kevin “Mongo” McLaughlin, the only other Black Hawk pilot from her unit. He nodded at her as she entered the room, and she didn’t miss the appreciative glances she drew from several of the other men as she threaded her way through the assembled group.
She was acutely aware that Chance leaned against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest. She refused to look directly at him, and chose a spot along the same wall, where she would be out of his direct line of vision. She didn’t know if she could keep her emotions from showing on her face, and the last thing she needed was to fuel speculation that there was something going on between them.
“Hey, honey, you lost?” one of the younger pilots called to her with a cheeky grin.
“Nope, I’m exactly where I should be,” she replied easily, “but I believe the preschool is located on the other side of the base.” She smiled sweetly. “Just in case you’re lost.”
There was a collective hooting of laughter and ribald jokes as the junior pilot accepted the jibe in good humor.
“You do know this is the pilots’ briefing room, right?” asked the man standing directly beside her, a smirk tilting his mouth as he assessed her.
Jenna could have turned so that he could see the aviator insignia on her shoulder, but before she could respond, Laura spoke up from his other side. “Captain Larson landed her MH-60 in complete brownout conditions, in a space no bigger than this conference table,” she informed the room. “She was flying helos before most of you were out of grade school.”
Uniformly Hot! Volume 1 from Harlequin: Letters from HomeBreaking the RulesComing Up for Air Page 43