Lindsay snorted. “That’s not going to happen.”
He knew it wasn’t possible, but still he bristled at Lindsay’s outright refusal to even consider the possibility. Sheesh. He wasn’t the Antichrist.
Wait.
Calm the hell down.
His ex wasn’t a bad person, just ill equipped to handle military life, complete with a husband who hurtled out of airplanes and only spent two or three months a year at home.
Who could blame her? He never had before. Why the resentment now? He’d stopped loving her long ago.
Because for some reason he found himself wondering what a real life would be like. The kind of life she was building. Not with her, though.
Ah damn.
Nola gestured for him to turn left. He nodded, before resuming his conversation. “I’m concerned about Lauren. She didn’t sound happy.”
“She’s at her friend’s mountain cabin for the week. Maybe you remember me mentioning Becca Levy to you. Or maybe you don’t,” Lindsay said with one of her traditional not-so-subtle digs at his crappy parenting. “She’s having a great time skiing.”
Could be, and Lindsay undoubtedly knew Lauren better than he did. He’d barely spent any time with his own daughter. Although now that he thought back to her call, she’d sounded mighty upset for a girl playing ski bunny with her friend.
His mother would be ashamed of him. That burned. He was working to be a better man, a better father. Hopefully he would get there sometime soon.
Starting with being more perceptive—and he could swear his daughter was upset. But he’d learned long ago not to argue with Lindsay once she’d made up her mind.
“Okay, she’s homesick. Still, I would appreciate it if you would give her a call and check in. Or better yet, you could give me the number and I’ll call her. The number she used didn’t come up on my cell and her cell is out of range.”
“You want the number?”
Lindsay’s shock was unmistakable.
“Yeah, what’s so strange about that?”
“I tried like hell for years to get you to call her more often.”
The censure bugged him more than a little. He knew he’d screwed up in being “Father of the Year” material, but he had made an effort. “I couldn’t help it that there were times I didn’t have telephone service. There were times I needed to go silent. Communication is better now with cell phones and e-mail.”
Not that any of it mattered since he was out of the service anyway, something he would be telling Lauren and Lindsay soon. And maybe he was getting wiser thanks to the insights of a certain pushy—hot—lady pilot.
“Sure, whatever. I’m just glad for Lauren’s sake. I don’t have the number handy, but I’ll text message the number to you after Ben and I finish up our lunch at his partner’s.”
Sounded like Lindsay had the life she’d always wanted. “That would be great. Thanks.” He hesitated, wishing the towering pines lining the road could offer up some help on what he should say to smooth the way with this woman he would be linked to forever through their kid. “And hey, Lindsay?”
“Yeah, Rick?”
“Congratulations. I hope this guy makes you happy.”
“Thank you, Rick, he does.” Her normally confident voice went tentative, soft. “He may not be an out-there, big personality like you, but life feels good now. I’m at peace.”
“I’m glad for you,” he said, and meant it.
He thumbed the Off button and clenched the phone for a long moment. His feelings for Lindsay had ended over eight years ago. They’d said their goodbyes. But this farewell brought a finality and—he searched for the word—a peace for him, too.
His past was finally just that, in the past.
Nodding to no one in particular, he tucked his phone in his pocket and tossed his best grin to the fascinating woman beside him, determined to make the most of the rest of this Thanksgiving. “So, lady, what do you have in store for us today?”
“Take that right turn up there and you’ll see.”
He saw the turn and the sign for…a small county airport? She couldn’t be planning what he thought.
A tentative smile lit her face even as he sensed a big-ass storm cloud heading toward his day. “Just because you’ve been retired on disability from the Air Force anymore doesn’t mean we can’t take to the skies.”
Chapter 10
Yoke in both hands, Nola guided the plane through the late-afternoon sky with none of her usual joy since she waited for Rick’s verdict on her gift. He hadn’t been rude, but his brooding silence worried her.
She’d been so sure he would enjoy this as she’d made her plans. She had her private pilot’s license as well as her military training, she’d asked a friend to let her use the small craft for a two-hour flight around Charleston airspace. Nothing fancy or hair-raising as they’d experienced on missions. Still, clear blue sky stretched out like a baby boy’s blanket to cushion them.
She’d expected Rick to absorb the experience, soak it up after so long without. Instead, he’d gone silent since the moment they’d pulled into the airport parking lot.
Maybe she was being presumptuous in assuming she’d caused his moodiness. Perhaps his quiet had more to do with his conversation with his ex-wife than the flight.
She thought about keeping her distance…but she and Rick had slept together, for goodness’ sake. She’d made a promise to herself to start embracing life again. If he didn’t want to discuss it, he could say so. And if he did, then she would have done well in gently broaching the subject. “So your ex-wife is getting remarried.”
“Apparently so.”
Not a resounding endorsement for conversation but then didn’t all those Internet info blurbs indicate that men used half as many words as women to get their point across? If so, then those two words carried a lot of weight. She would toss another open-ended question out there for him to pick up—or not—as he saw fit.
“How do you feel about that?” A simple question, but once voiced, it scared her with how much she wanted to know. Wow, these tangled feelings scared the bejesus out of her.
He shifted in this seat, leather crackling, his serious face set in hard lines. “I don’t have any feelings for Lindsay if that’s what you’re asking.”
Whoosh. She hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath. “Wow, you sure don’t beat around the bush.”
“You’re the second woman to say that to me today.”
“I’m not sure I like being compared to your ex-wife.”
“My apologies.” His expression eased a little, closer to the Rick who romanced her with milk shakes and bubble baths. “I’m still in a mood from the conversation. Our daughter isn’t happy about the marriage and for that reason I’m not okay with it.”
“I can understand that.” She churned the info around in her head and couldn’t help but ask, “Why not have your daughter come live with you now?”
“You may not have noticed, but I’m still recovering from serious injuries.”
She should shut up. Should. And still she couldn’t stop from opening her mouth. “She’s fifteen, right? Well past the diaper stage.”
“Uh-huh.”
Uh-oh. His conversation had seriously fallen off. She couldn’t even say those were small words anymore. She’d better taper hers off now, too. “Hmm.”
“You have an opinion.” He traced his fingers along the copilot’s yoke in front of him, one that moved in tandem with her hands guiding the controls on the pilot’s yoke. “Go ahead and spit it out.”
“I’ve already said my bit. It’s not my business, anyway.” There. Now she’d wised up. Hush and enjoy the flight. She gripped the yoke tighter.
“You’ve got that right.” His jaw flexed so hard he might well crack a crown. “In case you haven’t noticed, I live in a one-room garage apartment.”
“Not for much longer hopefully.” Wait. She wanted to call back those words. She hadn’t meant them the way they sounded bu
t backpedaling would probably only make it sound worse.
He cocked a brow. “Are you booting me out already?”
“You know better. I only mean I hope we catch the creep soon.” Where would Rick go then? Where would their relationship go?
An emotionally confusing question, especially when she still had the smell of him swirling through her senses. Why did she have to make this complicated? She really had intended this day to be special, but then he’d gone all brooding and silent on her. The confined space compacted the emotions to smothering levels until she had to speak or suffocate.
“There was a time I would have given anything to have a child.”
“Jesus, woman,” he blurted, “you don’t pull any punches, either.”
“Why should I? You’re a strong man.”
“Thanks.” Some of the anger smoothed from his angular features. “I think.”
She stared and realized what was niggling at her. His hands moved in synch with hers. “You have your civilian pilot’s license, don’t you?”
He jolted. Not hugely, just a hint, but enough for her to notice. She thought at first he wouldn’t answer. Then finally he nodded slightly. “I did, at one point. But it’s not current anymore since I haven’t been able to log airtime with an instructor this past year.”
“I’m an instructor. You can take the controls and it would be legal.”
His hands flexed. His gaze so hungry no way could she miss how much he wanted this even if he didn’t speak.
Why wouldn’t he go for it? She wouldn’t know if she didn’t ask. “Is it that hard for you to have anything to do with the past?”
“Don’t overanalyze me.” His voice, a low rumble invited no argument.
Nola stared out at the late-afternoon sky and found none of the beauty she’d enjoyed just minutes before, instead seeing more of a flattened meringue look. “I’m sorry if this wasn’t a good idea after all.”
“Ah hell.” He exhaled the curse. “Women have to make everything so complicated.”
He placed his hands on the yoke in front of him, feet on the rudders and she felt control slip away from her as he took over. And lookee there, those clouds poofed right back up, all pretty again.
Grinning, she lifted her hands away, slid her feet off and the plane continued on its path without so much as a bobble. His jaw flexed.
He didn’t look at all happy or peaceful. He looked more like the Biblical Jacob wrestling with his destiny.
The answers seemed so simple to her. “There’s not a doubt in my mind that you’re hurting your daughter with this ‘wait until I’m well’ attitude of yours.”
“Back off, Nola,” he barked without looking away from the horizon. “She’s my daughter. You don’t even know her.”
“No, I don’t.” She lounged back in her seat without once taking her eyes off the controls. “But I have a brain. I was a teenage girl.”
“So you have a few father issues of your own?”
He was far too perceptive for his own good. This flight was supposed to have been about giving him a moment of peace and here they were jabbing at each other. Maybe the flight and the call—and making love—had left them both feeling too raw for reasonable discussion.
“Okay, yeah, I’m strong enough to own up. My father walked and ignored me in lieu of his new bachelor footloose world. I was a messy loose end from his old life. He figured it was better to let me move on with my mom and her new husband, since it was a traditional family setup. Nobody ever thought to ask me. Now they’re all dead and I don’t have the chance to be with any of them.”
Much as she loved both her parents, she resented being shuffled around like a playing piece during her childhood. Could she help it if she felt a tug of empathy for Rick’s daughter?
“Nola, I’m sorry you’ve lost your family—” he offered her a nod of sympathy “—but one person can’t compare their life to another’s.”
Fair enough. She searched her mind for other possibilities for reasons for his distance. “Is your daughter some mega athlete?”
A grin tensed his jaw. “Hardly. Throw a ball her way and she puts her hands in front of her face and screams. She’s into theater and dance. She has an amazing voice. She’s more of a romantic.”
The pieces fell into place for her. “You want to live up to her heroic ideal of being a superhero Daddy who can save the world.”
His knuckles went white on the yoke. “Did you study how to go for the jugular or is it a natural instinct?”
Contrition nipped. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I had a bigger point to make here if you would just—”
“Thanks, but no.”
Why couldn’t he see the heroism of his survival? Or that daddies were heroes to their little girls simply because they existed? “I would have given anything to have the chance to be a parent.”
He didn’t pull his gaze from the purpling horizon, but lifted one of his hands from the yoke and rested it on hers. “I’m so damn sorry you didn’t get to have your baby.”
She tapped the fuel gauge even though it was working just fine. “Aren’t you going to tell me how I should consider adoption?”
“It’s not my place to offer advice or platitudes.” And didn’t that comment speak volumes about how he would prefer to be treated?
The plane’s engines hummed in the stretching silence.
God, she’d been rude and he was being nice and perceptive. This really sucked because now she had to be honest when pissed off and sulking would have been so much easier.
Still, she did keep her eyes averted, thumbing moisture off every gauge. “Yes, I’ve considered adoption, but with my health problems I’m a poor candidate. Then there’s my travel schedule. When it comes to motherhood, I believe my time has passed.”
She didn’t appreciate the way the old hurt came up to bite her now, harder than ever, when she’d successfully stuffed down the heart-shredding regret countless times before. Maybe Rick’s daughter had gotten under her skin deeper than she’d realized if this young woman she’d never even met had the power to elicit so much heartache from the past.
His hand skimmed up to her shoulder, a steady weight, squeezing gently. Firmly.
Unexpected tears blurred the horizon. “I think I could use a platitude now.”
“I don’t have one to offer,” he said, even as his eyes glinted with a hint of sympathy she couldn’t miss. “We’ve both seen how unfair life can be, but I swear to you I’m going to see this stalker thing through. I won’t let you down.”
This flight, the sky, the sympathy in his eyes—and yes, making love—had definitely left her feeling more vulnerable than she’d expected. She’d never let her emotions gain control during flight before, a dangerous habit. Rick had a power over her no one, not even her ex, had exerted before.
This whole surprise gift had backfired on her, because now more than anything, she needed breathing space.
Steering the SUV along the dark back roads to Nola’s house, Rick had to acknowledge he’d learned something unexpectedly valuable on that flight.
Nola had a way of tearing down defenses.
Once he’d woken up from surgery after the Hurricane Katrina accident, he’d planned to put his Air Force days behind him. He’d done a pretty decent job of that—until Nola strutted into the rehab center with her chocolate chip cookies and killer legs.
Now, forgetting was damn near impossible while sleeping with a hot lady pilot, not to mention living in her house with all the military gear and photography scattered throughout her cluttered home. Then she’d up and thrown his past into his face with that flight.
He could still smell the open blue sky even in the murky night. Yeah, that sounded nebulous and all woo-woo. But the clouds and open air up there filled him with a familiarity he’d missed more than he’d been willing to admit.
Would flying in a little civilian prop plane every now and again be enough for him? Or would it be like dribbling bourbon on an alcoholic’
s tongue? Could he turn his old life into a hobby or did he need to cut ties with everything Air Force—including Nola?
All moot points at the moment because first he had to call his daughter. As conflicted as he felt about Nola, the woman had dropped some heavy-duty guilt on his doorstep in regard to his parenting. He’d been so sure the kiddo should live with her mother.
He was such a mess himself. How could he deal with a typical teenager whose moods swung around with about as much regularity as a hurricane? The stakes were so damned high.
Rick dialed the number and waited for the pickup. Moonlight streamed through the towering trees arching over the road on one side, marshy shore on the other. God, this deserted area left too many places for someone to hide.
“Levy’s house. This is Joel,” a child’s voice answered. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Yes, could I speak to Lauren DeMassi, please? This is her father.”
He scanned the nearly deserted road, the entrance to the nearby tiny subdivision, the ex-cop Malcolm Cuvier’s house blazing with lights but no cars. Seemed he was alone for the holidays in spite of his assertion he had family flying from the West Coast. Something to file away.
Rick pulled his attention back to the phone conversation.
“Sorry, you’ve got the wrong number, mister. This isn’t Lauren’s house.”
Wrong number? Dread and a dawning realization gripped his stomach as he neared Nola’s home. “My daughter goes to school with Becca Levy. They’re spending Thanksgiving together.”
“Right. Becca’s here, but Lauren didn’t come home with her.”
Sweat popped along his forehead. This dawning nightmare-come-true sucked for a parent.
“Hey, Joel, could you get your mother or father to come to the telephone, please?” He pressed the earpiece more securely in place while the cell phone rested in his lap. He reassured himself Becca’s parents would have answers. The kid Joel was just confused. Could Lindsay and Lauren have gotten their wires so horribly crossed?
Waiting for the kid to track down a responsible adult to clear up this mess ASAP, Rick turned the steering wheel, maneuvering the car off the road and onto Nola’s tree-bowered driveway. His mind rolled through a hundred possible—positive—scenarios.
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