by Jo Leigh
“That’d be great,” he said. “I was thinking maybe you’d like to go out, have some dinner with me?”
“Tonight?”
“Not necessarily,” he said, although he spoke so quickly it was clear that was just what he’d meant. “I’m sure you’re busy. With a...your life. Here. You teaching?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow. Great.”
She thought about telling him dinner wasn’t such a good idea, but the words wouldn’t come. She was walking now, nowhere in particular, down some stairs, past rows of cars. “How about tomorrow night?”
He sighed. “Tomorrow night would be perfect. You’ll have to say where, though. I’ve got no idea what’s around here.”
“Are you staying at the base?”
“Nope. But I’m close to it. So how about you text me the name and location of your favorite restaurant. I’ll meet you there. Tomorrow. Seven okay?”
“Yeah. Seven’s fine.” Her heels clicked on the concrete during a lull in jet traffic as she slowed to a standstill. “It’ll be good to see you again.”
“It will. Don’t forget to save the number, now.”
“I won’t.”
“Okay. Have a good one.”
“You, too,” she said, then hung up. When she pressed the keys to put him in her contacts, her hand shook a bit. Probably the surprise. Or maybe it was the surge of adrenaline that had hit her hard.
She’d loved Danny. She had. But there’d always been a spark between her and Sam. She knew he’d felt it. Their collective discomfort had been masked by the typical craziness that was life back then, especially after they’d been sent to Randolph AFB to finish training and she’d been working forty hours a week as a waitress while getting her degree at Texas A&M. The four of them had still managed to hang out together, and to get into all kinds of mischief. God, pilots were a breed unto themselves. Cocky, stupidly brave and loyal to a fault.
Sam had never said a word. She’d never given Danny a reason to be concerned. But the attraction had been real and had run deep. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to see him again. Three years had gone by. Enough time for him to have fallen for someone. To be married, even. Maybe the wife was selling their old place. The idea tightened her chest, which was ridiculous. It made sense that Sam would be married now. He was thirty-three, more handsome than was fair and a good guy. Really good. He’d have been snapped up in a heartbeat.
Although the air force life wasn’t for the weak, even for a spouse. It was a different universe from anything she’d experienced before, and she’d meant to get as far away from that universe as she could. And yet, here she was, in the last place Danny had been assigned. He’d never even gotten to the base. She’d come ahead to get them settled. He’d died a thousand miles away.
Sam, though. He must have been assigned to the F-22 Raptor, which aside from the remotely piloted aircraft was the largest unit. It was a hotshot plane for the best of the best. She wondered where John was stationed. If he’d gotten married. She had her doubts. He’d loved being a bachelor fighter pilot.
She’d spent a considerable amount of time with those guys over the years. They’d treated her very nicely, not at all like a Yoko. In fact, they’d gone out of their way to make her feel welcome. But a lot had changed since then. Odds were she’d regret tomorrow night’s dinner. Still, she wasn’t going to back out.
Maybe it was time she told someone the truth about what had been going on right before Danny died.
She pressed a hand to her jittery stomach.
Or maybe not.
2
EMMA HAD SECOND THOUGHTS a moment before she entered Stella Vita, the downtown restaurant she’d chosen for the reunion. In reality, there weren’t that many choices in Alamogordo. It probably would have been better to take Sam to her favorite Mexican place and then show him what he’d need to get around town, but she wanted wine with the food, not beer. Not tonight.
She took a seat facing the door, feeling more nervous than she had on her first date with Danny. She’d changed a lot in the years since she and Sam had seen each other. Her hair was shorter, a longish pixie cut that was meant to be messy-looking, which made getting ready in the morning less of a nightmare. Also her hair was lighter now than when he’d last seen her.
Her fingers went to the wisps at her nape, where she tugged on a stray curl. She’d probably left it too messy, and he’d think she was making some kind of statement, but no, that wasn’t like Sam. He’d never noticed her hair all that much, although he’d always commented about her T-shirts. A quick look at her watch told her it was too late to run to the restroom to check her do now. Besides, she could guarantee Sam hadn’t been changing clothes and agonizing over his makeup.... That made her grin. Sam wasn’t exactly the makeup type.
He was effortlessly gorgeous. Tall, well built, strong jaw, light brown hair that looked blond by the end of summer and a smile that turned women to putty.
Needing that glass of wine, she glanced around for the waitress just as he walked in. Sam wasn’t in uniform. Even though he’d said he was on leave, it still surprised her to see him in jeans. Or was it the way he looked at her that set her heart racing?
Eyes wide, his gaze stayed on her face as if she was the best thing he’d ever laid eyes on. When he didn’t move, just continued to stare, the urge to look away was strong, but there was nothing else she wanted to see. Finally, he smiled and headed to their table.
She stood. The closer he got, the more memories he sparked. The way he’d first introduced himself all those years ago by standing up, holding out his hand, as if she’d been someone important instead of the waitress taking his order. She’d already been flustered meeting Danny and John, and then Sam...tall at six-one, the most amazing eyelashes she’d ever seen on a man, and oh, his voice was all deep and rumbly even when all he was saying was “I’d like a beer, please.”
He hadn’t changed much. Still broad-shouldered and slim-hipped, he looked so fine in his jeans and a tan linen shirt that the thing started, the strange sensation that felt as if she needed a really deep breath even though she knew there wasn’t enough air in the world. She looked up to meet his gaze, inches away now and real in a way she hadn’t been able to conjure even with her vivid imagination.
He smelled like Sam. Like the old Sam. Her friend.
“Oh, hell,” he said, and he pulled her into a hug that practically swallowed her whole. She didn’t mind. The heat from outside was still on him as she pressed her cheek against his chest. Her arms went low and wrapped around him tightly.
She only realized he’d leaned into her hair when she felt him whisper her name. It made her smile and it made her sad in equal measure. This reunion was so filled with baggage they might crumble under the weight.
Before it got weird he let her go. “How is it possible you’ve gotten more beautiful?”
She blushed, of course. “Look who’s talking. You should quit this flying nonsense and model underwear. You’d make millions.”
The way he rolled his eyes was like a jolt into the past. It was going to be a rocky evening, she could tell. She hoped it was worth it. She liked Sam too much to have to avoid him. Not that he’d do anything on purpose, but that last year, whenever she’d seen him...
He had his hand on the back of her chair, and after she sat, he joined her, smiling. “This looks like a nice restaurant,” he said, looking everywhere but at her. “The walls are very...”
She glanced at his fingers. No ring. Didn’t necessarily mean anything. “Mustard. I think that’s the color you’re looking for.”
He nodded. “It works, though.”
“It does,” she said, hoping he wasn’t feeling too awkward. “The food’s even better than the decor. If I remember correctly, you’re a steak man.”
He nodded and l
eaned forward as if to say something, but the waitress showed up with menus and a wine list.
“Hey, I’m Crystal. Can I start you off with something to drink?”
Sam glanced down at the wines. “You still like merlot?”
She nodded. “That’d be great.”
Sam ordered a bottle and the waitress left, which was good because the woman had been staring hard at Sam, and not just because he was ordering. Emma had seen Crystal check out Sam’s chest. The big inhale hadn’t been very subtle and neither had the swipe of her tongue across her bottom lip.
“So,” Sam said, his gaze firmly on his open menu. “Steak, huh?”
“Everything I’ve had here is good.”
He nodded. She knew only because she kept sneaking her own glances while she tried to focus on the entrées. Clearly, this evening out had been a mistake. The awkward was inching toward nerve-racking, and she doubted things would improve. They had been step-friends who’d been attracted to each other. Right there was a recipe for disaster. Danny had been their anchor, and she knew Sam wouldn’t want to bring him up, and she sure as hell didn’t, but what was left? The weather?
“It sure is dry out here,” he said. “I just came from San Antonio and that place was a sauna. This dry air’s going to take some getting used to.”
“Moisturizer,” Emma said. “Get a great big old bottle and use it every day. Seriously. You’ll dry out like a chili pepper if you don’t. I go through tons of it myself.”
“I’ll do that,” he said. “Thanks.
She stared at the menu again, chanting silently for the wine to arrive.
“San Antonio?” she said at the same second he asked, “What are you teaching?”
He put down his menu and said, “Hell, Emma, you know pretty much everything I’ve been doing.... It’s the air force. No personal changes worth noting. My family’s fine. I’ve been to Iraq and Afghanistan, but it was as easy as active duty in a war zone can be. Frankly, I’d love to hear about your job, about this town. But mostly about you.”
She knew Sam well enough to know that his little speech was meant to make her more comfortable, but it backfired. All the times he’d gone the extra mile to be kind to her when things had been rough between her and Danny came barreling over her like an oncoming tide. He’d been a good friend. To both of them. Always ready to lend a nonjudgmental ear. He’d encouraged her to continue her education no matter where Danny got transferred, get her teaching degree, which was the best advice ever.
“Okay,” she said, hoping some small talk would put her at ease. “I teach at the community college. English. Which includes creative writing, rhetoric and composition, and some literature courses. It’s great, though, because the school is on the base, and we get all kinds of students. A lot of vets, of course, and freshmen, but we have a big contingent of adults who’ve been displaced because of the economy and they’re looking to broaden their chances of getting work. We’ve even got a gray-haired brigade of older folks who just love to learn, so...” She shrugged. “It’s challenging and fun to try and meet all their needs.”
“From what I hear, it’s getting harder and harder to be a teacher. Lack of funding an issue for you?”
She nodded but the wine came, and she didn’t respond until she and Sam had their glasses filled. “There’s not a lot of money in the school budget, though we’re better off than some other state universities. I feel sorry for the elementary and middle schools, but of course they have the military wives doing some serious fund-raising for them.”
Sam put his glass down, nodding. “They’re a force to be reckoned with.”
Emma closed her eyes, wishing she could stop the memories of her own days as Danny’s wife. She’d been the worst air force wife ever, even before they’d been married. College and a full-time job left no time for any of the group activities that had been available to her. When she had a break to relax, she spent it with Danny alone or with the guys. Fishing trips, hiking, having too much beer and pizza when there wasn’t anything better to do.
She opened her eyes to find Sam watching her. She managed a smile. “I didn’t really get it until after,” she said. “About the wives.”
“Hey, you were busy. No one expected you to do anything but love Danny.”
She grabbed her glass and probably would have drained it if Crystal hadn’t come back to take their orders. Once that was done, Emma said, “Alamogordo is pretty interesting, if you’re willing to do a bit of traveling. There’s great stuff nearby. Carlsbad Caverns, the White Sands National Monument and the space museum, and oh, there’s a pistachio farm, which is nice...well, if you like pistachios. We’re not far from El Paso, either. There are lots of things to do....” She felt the heat in her cheeks, but his smile wasn’t mocking. In fact, it was as warm as her blush.
“You’ve sold me,” he said.
She sighed, wishing she could disappear under the table. “And it’s a dry heat.”
* * *
SAM LAUGHED and felt the last of the tightness in his shoulders dissipate. Although he had to be careful not to stare too often. Emma hadn’t changed very much. Shorter, blonder hair, makeup now when she used to wear nothing but bright red lipstick and sunscreen. He knew that second thing only because she’d told him. She’d told him a lot of weird stuff back then, and he remembered thinking she needed a BFF. Bad. Not that she’d crossed any lines or anything, but he hadn’t known what to say when she’d asked if she should streak her hair, or if she could get away with wearing yellow. He’d just said the kind thing and hoped for the best.
Truth was, he always thought she looked great. Every time. Even when she’d wake up from one of their camping trips with terrible bed head. He didn’t care. He’d just been happy she was there.
“Those folks are so lucky to have you for a teacher,” he said.
She looked at him skeptically, those almond-shaped eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together. “That’s very nice of you to say, but you’ve never seen me teach. I could be horrible.”
“Not a chance,” he said. “Hold on a sec.” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his iPod Nano. After unwinding his earbuds, he held them out to her, and she put them up next to her ears. Then he pressed Play.
A few seconds later, her mouth and her eyes widened with such excitement, he might have just given her keys to a Ferrari. “Still?” she asked.
“Yep. I’m hooked. Just don’t spread it around. I don’t need a whole new base knowing that I listen to classical music.”
Grinning like a nut, she listened for a bit, then handed him back the iPod. “You’ve expanded your repertoire.”
Sam shrugged. “A bit. I still like the American composers, though.”
“No reason not to. Although a little Bach never hurt anyone.”
“You and Bach. Jeez, woman. That’s so eighteenth century.”
Her laughter fixed everything that had been wrong all day. Going to Holloman, hearing that his car wouldn’t arrive until Friday, the crappy coffee he’d had this morning.
The food came and the waitress gave him the look again. A pretty blatant invitation considering he was sitting across from a woman. A beautiful woman at that.
Dismissing the whole business, he waited until Emma picked up her utensils and started working on her duck before he dug into his rib eye, and the whole time the two of them were grinning as though they shared a fantastic secret. He supposed they did.
There was a maturity about her now, even though it had been only three years since he’d seen her. Being a widow left its mark, although there was nothing obvious about the change. He’d seen the old Emma for a few seconds there, listening to the music. He’d like to see it again.
“What about your family,” he said. “Anything new there?”
She shook her head. “They’re s
till in Philly, doing fine. My sister had a baby five months ago, so that’s nice.”
He finished off his wine and topped them both up. “Any significant others?”
Her gaze darted away as she shook her head. “No one. I’m not... I’m not really looking.”
“Right.” He had no business feeling pleased. None. “Me, neither. But I have been getting my bad self down with some midnight bowling.”
That made her laugh again. “Midnight bowling?” she asked, after sipping some water. “You’re not even joking. How did that happen?”
“A crazy-ass pilot, what else? He was dating this civilian, and there was a local bowling alley that did late-night stuff, with black lights and cheap beer, and lots of folks showed up. A group of us went when we had a chance. I know it sounds stupid, but it was fun.”
Emma looked around the dining room, either in search of the waitress or to make sure she wouldn’t be overheard. When she turned back to him she leaned closer. “We do the bowling thing here, too.”
“Really? You any good?”
“No, I kind of suck at it, but we have a league. It’s mostly teachers. Not a lot of airmen show up, at least not on our league night. But you should come sometime. We’re always missing somebody. You could be my ringer.”
“I’m not that good.”
“Can you break a hundred?”
He grinned. “Most of the time.”
“You’re in,” she said, but then her smile froze. A few seconds later she continued eating her asparagus, but something had changed. Most likely she hadn’t intended to see him again and was wishing she’d kept her mouth shut.
He wanted to ask her if he made things too painful. If she could look at him without thinking of Danny. If she had known Sam had compared all other women to her, and they’d always fallen short. Yeah, that wouldn’t be awkward and inappropriate. “Other than bowling, what else keeps you entertained when you’re not at school?”