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Maybe This Kiss

Page 7

by Jennifer Snow


  But for the first time, the man looked almost relaxed as he did answer. “It’s okay, sir. Yes, she does. Her father was a sergeant in the army for fifty years before retiring. The military life is all she’s known.”

  Neil nodded. “Glad to hear it.”

  “Two-two-six,” he heard over his radio. The men next to him laughed, then tried to hide their amusement.

  Shit. He must have missed communication from the tower based on their use of the old Air Force school joke code for “Would you like a kick in the ass to help you get airborne?”

  He cleared his throat and his thoughts. “Negative. Say again.”

  “Jayhawk T-1, Pueblo tower, runway two two right cleared for immediate takeoff,” the tower command controller repeated.

  “Roger, T-1 cleared for immediate takeoff, two two right.”

  The recruit next to him closed his eyes and clenched his hands in his lap as the jet picked up speed and left the runway. Neil radioed the tower once more and then turned to the recruits. “In two minutes, we will be flying over Pikes Peak near Colorado Springs…some of the most beautiful terrain in the country.” Despite his beach-loving ways, he could appreciate the beauty of his hometown’s rugged, mountainous landscape below.

  The jagged cliff and steep hiking trails made it easy to understand why people liked to hike here. Not during an avalanche warning, however. He couldn’t help thinking about how terrified the families of those missing teenagers must have been each hour they were gone. How terrified Becky must have been. And then her husband hadn’t come home.

  He flew the required course, instructing as he had for the last several weeks. An hour later, he turned the jet to head back to the airport. Seeing a chance of turbulence on the regular route, he set a different flight path. He didn’t need Lieutenant Spencer throwing up in the cockpit.

  But ten minutes from the tower, something mountainside caught his eye and his heart started pounding in his chest. “Do you see that yellow reflective glow on the side of that mountain, over there?” he asked.

  The quieter recruit, Lieutenant Harris, leaned to look through the windshield, squinting against the blinding glare of the sun on the snow-covered peaks. “Yeah. Looks like a backpack.”

  A search-and-rescue kit perhaps. Neil’s mouth went dry. This side of Pikes Peak was where those teenagers had gotten into trouble. Where the search-and-rescue crew had found them. Where Rob had gone missing. “I’m bringing her down.”

  “What? Why? Where?” Spencer looked around frantically.

  Neil didn’t answer the first two questions as he lowered the aircraft toward the top of the mountain peak. “There’s a high-altitude backcountry airstrip the military uses for training exercises around here.”

  “Sir, this is an unauthorized landing,” Harris said. “Is it even safe?” He looked out his window to the icy ground below the plane.

  Spencer had his eyes shut tight, and he looked like he was holding his breath.

  Yeah, this guy needed to stay on the ground.

  “I land here all the time,” he lied. He hadn’t landed on this airstrip since his own flight training more than a decade ago. “Think of it as a real crash course in operations.”

  “So, this is part of the training?”

  Technically no. “I said think of it as such.” He landed the plane on the airstrip a few moments later, opened the cockpit door, and lowered the stairs. Grabbing his gear from the back, he zipped his jacket higher. “Stay with the plane. I’ll be right back.”

  “Yes, sir.” Neither recruit looked happy about the unexpected detour.

  Head down against blowing snowdrifts, Neil hiked his way to the side of the mountain peak where he’d seen the survival kit. The distance was a lot farther than he’d estimated in the safety and comfort of the plane. Inhale. Exhale. Adrenaline caused sweat to pool on his back despite the frigid high-altitude temperatures. Breathing was tough in the thinner air, too, and it didn’t take long for his muscles to start to feel the strain of the lack of oxygen. He must be crazy to be out here. Especially during an unauthorized landing…with training recruits in the aircraft.

  But, what if he’d found Becky’s husband? His mouth was chalky as he reached the mountain’s edge and hooked his grappling hook to the snow-covered rock. Lowering his body down the side, struggling to keep a foothold on the slippery ice slope, he reached the survival kit.

  Relief mixed with disappointment to see only the kit. The name on the tag, Christiansen, confirmed it was Rob’s. Obviously the man had lost it somehow during the search. Picking it up, he carefully hurried back to the plane, where the tower had obviously noticed their unscheduled detour and was delivering an earful over the radio.

  The two recruits were wide-eyed and silent.

  Neil shrugged. “It’s all good,” he told them. He put on his headphones. “Pueblo tower, this is Jayhawk T-1. This unauthorized landing was my idea and I take full responsibility. I thought I might have found a missing person.”

  Spencer’s eyes widened, and he glanced at the survival kit.

  Neil shook his head to assure the terrified-looking man he hadn’t.

  “Return to the airstrip stat,” the command controller said.

  “Copy, over and out,” he said, preparing the aircraft for takeoff.

  “This kit looks like it’s been out there for a while,” Harris said.

  “Four years.”

  “You know who it belongs to?” Spencer asked.

  “Yeah.” The man whose ghost was haunting his future.

  * * *

  Packing up her things, Becky was the last to leave the Widows of Heroes group therapy session later that day. She stacked the chairs and placed them in the storage room and then collected the boxes of tissues and disposable coffee cups and tossed them away. Today’s session had consisted of four women, two of whom had lost their husbands in the last year or so. Their wounds were still deep and fresh, their tears still new, and their day-to-day struggles so real. They were learning how to live again slowly, the way she had.

  Today had been tougher than any other monthly session. Whereas before, she felt she could identify with them, offer support because she’d been there, today felt as though she was a silent observer. She hadn’t been able to connect as deeply with them as she once had. They’d leaned on one another and the shared bond of hurt, anxiety, and uncertainties about their futures.

  They, too, seemed to have sensed her disconnect.

  Over the years her pain had dulled, the memories had faded slightly, and the hurt had disappeared, despite her best efforts to hold on to it. Lately, experiencing a whirlwind of emotions around Neil had brought a new element to her healing. The possibility of moving on, not only in life, but in a life with someone else.

  Locking the door behind her, she made her way down the cleared, crisp-looking sidewalks to the military offices. She had to do the right thing for herself and the other women in the group, and that was leaving the organization. It was time. If the last few weeks had taught her anything, it was that she was right to be moving on. She needed a new start—wanted a new start—and she wouldn’t be able to do that staying where she was.

  Becky took a deep breath before entering Master General Gabe’s office. As the general in charge of their local division of Operation Homefront, he was in charge of Widows of Heroes as well. He’d hired her years before, and she wasn’t sure how he would take the news.

  Maybe she should wait. Prepare an official letter of resignation…But he saw her standing there and waved her in. She went inside and smiled nervously. “Hi, Master General Gabe, sir.”

  “Hi, Becky. Thanks for coming in. Have a seat,” he said, turning his attention to her. “How are you?”

  “Nervous,” she said with a small laugh, then continued on while she had the courage. “The thing is, sir, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I’ve decided that it’s time for me to leave Widows of Heroes. I want to assure you I’m not leaving today or tomorrow. I�
�ll make sure my replacement has all the training…” She paused.

  He was frowning, a confused look on his face.

  Wait. Had he said, “Thanks for coming in”? She released a breath and clutched her hands on her lap. “I’m sorry. Did you want to see me about something?” Well, at least her reason for her visit was out there now. No doubt they would be addressing it as well.

  “Yes, though we can talk about this first,” he said with a smile.

  Like a Band-Aid…She nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t feel like I’m the right person to lead the group anymore. I’m not…”

  “Grieving,” he supplied, his dark eyes understanding, his expression making her relax. “It’s okay, Becky. You’ve been wonderful as head of the support group. I know a lot of families have benefited from your involvement, passion, and commitment. But I understand. It’s hard to move on when you’re pulled back into the past. The group exists to offer support when needed. The goal is to get everyone to the point where you are now. Where I suspect you’ve been for quite some time?”

  She swallowed a lump in a throat as he echoed her thoughts, erasing the elements of doubt. “Thank you for understanding, sir” was all she could croak out.

  “Of course.” He handed her a tissue.

  She took it and dabbed her eye. “I’ll be here through the holidays and hopefully train a replacement to take over in the new year.”

  He nodded. “I appreciate anything you can do to make it a smooth transition.” He took a deep breath. “The reason I wanted to see you…” He reached under the desk and produced a search-and-rescue survival kit. “I think this, too, might help in your moving on.”

  The material was dirty and stained, the colors faded. Her heart raced as she noticed the name on the tag. “Is this…” Her mouth went dry and the words were barely more than a whisper.

  Master General Gabe nodded. “There are some things inside you might want to have.”

  Her hand shook as she reached for the weather-worn bag and opened it, careful not to break the rusted zipper. She removed Rob’s blanket and first aid kit and set it on the table. And then her pulse thundered as she took out a small figurine. A custom-made bobblehead of Taylor in her first hockey jersey. Her eyes filled with tears at the sight of something precious she’d never expected to see again. They’d made the figurines at a mall kiosk on Father’s Day, the year before Rob died. Hers in her hockey uniform. His in his police uniform. The two had exchanged figurines whenever he went out on a rescue mission. She put hers in his kit bag, and he set his on her nightstand until he returned. Taylor had wanted her dad to know she had his back, and he’d wanted her to know he was always there.

  She reached in again and took out several other emergency items that could have possibly saved his life, had he not lost the bag. Then her hand found something else that made her stomach do an involuntary flip.

  His wedding ring.

  In four years, she’d had no closure, no peace from the nagging doubts in her mind. She closed her eyes as she held it to her chest. Had he known he wouldn’t be coming back?

  “Thank you,” she said after a long moment, suddenly aware she wasn’t alone. “Where did you find it?” The search-and-rescue crews had searched all over the mountains in their recovery mission and had found nothing. No trace of her husband or his belongings anywhere.

  “It was recovered this morning from the side of Pikes Peak on an Air Force flight training session. It would have been impossible to see from the ground; that’s why rescue crews had never located it. Unfortunately, nothing else was recovered,” he said, answering a question she’d never have had the courage to ask.

  She nodded, her heart pounded even louder, echoing in her ears.

  “Lieutenant Colonel Healy was the one to retrieve it.”

  Chapter 8

  What a day.

  Neil closed his eyes and let his chin fall against his chest as the hot water rained down his shoulders and back. Bringing back the survival kit had been more emotionally draining than he’d expected. The lecture he’d received from the tower flight commander for the unauthorized landing hadn’t helped. Neither had the three-week air suspension he’d received from Master General Gabe, grounding him until after the holidays.

  Still he couldn’t bring himself to regret the decision to land.

  Lifting his face to the stream, he forced several deep breaths, as he stood there for a long time until the water started to run warm, then cooler.

  Shutting off the tap, he reached for his towel and stepped out. His doorbell rang, and, picking up his watch from the counter, he checked the time. Seven fifteen. Blake, always early for their Thursday night poker game. He didn’t know why the guy was so eager to play; he always left with barely his shirt. Neil may not be a pro at winter sports, but poker was poker anywhere, and he was good at it.

  He made his way down the hall and smirked as he opened the door. “Ready to have your ass—” He stopped. “Becky?”

  Her eyes scanned his bare torso and appreciation registered in them before she charged into his house.

  Stunned, he took a step back, letting the screen door slam shut behind her. She didn’t say anything as she wrapped her arms around his bare neck and pressed the cold fabric of her winter coat against his still warm, slightly damp-from-the-shower skin. Her mouth tempted his, just half an inch away, and he didn’t dare pause to question what was happening before kissing her.

  His hands gripped her waist through the bulky material, and he pulled her even closer, returning her eager passion. He savored the feel of her cool lips against his, suddenly aware he wore nothing but a towel. The irony of the reversed situation was not lost on him. Every fiber of his being came alive with each second their lips were together, and it was impossible to conceal the effect she was having on him.

  The stress of the day slipped away, and wanting her was the only emotion he felt. She moaned against his mouth, and he grew harder at the sound he used to love. Knowing he was pleasuring her with a simple kiss made him want to take her into his bedroom and spend the rest of the evening giving her much more to moan about.

  Her skin smelled like the cold winter air, and she tasted faintly of peppermint, but the kiss was full of fiery heat.

  Breathless, she backed away with a knowing grin. “Sorry about that,” she said, once again taking in the view.

  He readjusted the towel, but it didn’t help much. His vulnerable state had him at a disadvantage. One she seemed to be enjoying. “What was that, exactly?” he asked, pulling her closer again and unzipping her jacket. He wanted to even the playing field between them a little…or a lot.

  “A thank-you,” she said, her clear blue eyes revealing it was far more than just a thank-you.

  He nodded, knowing what she meant and kissing her again. “Thank you for the thank-you. Best one I’ve ever received, actually,” he said, moving her hair away from her neck to place a soft kiss to her skin.

  She sighed, trailing her hands up his back, across his shoulders, tangling in his damp hair. Then she took a small step back to look at him. “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other night in the locker room.”

  “Okay…”

  “You’re not Rob, and comparing you both was unfair.”

  He nodded.

  “I need to move on with my life. I’ve known that for a long time now, and what you did—the backpack, the closure—only helped me realize it even more.” She paused, looking nervous as she toyed with the edge of his towel.

  He held his breath as he waited.

  “And I’m not saying yes to us, but I’m no longer saying no,” she croaked.

  He pulled her closer again. His mouth caught the base of her earlobe and bit gently. “So, you’re saying maybe?”

  She laughed. “That’s the word I was looking for, yes.”

  He slid the jacket off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Then he reached for her sweater, lifting it over her head. “You have too many clothes on,” he
murmured, discovering yet another layer underneath. Though the tight white T-shirt hugging her breasts and slim waist was as much a turn-on as if she’d been wearing nothing.

  “It’s freezing out there,” she said, shivering as a blast of wind came through the still open main door.

  He glanced up and there on the doorstep stood his Thursday night poker guests—all six of them—grinning like idiots as they enjoyed the show. “Shit,” he muttered, tempted to shut the door and lock them out.

  At his curse, Becky turned and saw them as well, her cheeks flushing as the guys waved to her.

  “Hey, Becky. Nice to see you,” Blake called out, opening the screen door and entering without waiting for an invitation.

  She turned to Neil. “You have plans, I see.” She quickly gathered her sweater and coat from the floor.

  “You staying for poker?” Blake asked. “I could deal you in.”

  Neil shot him a threatening look, but the other guys were already spilling into the house, making the space seem small and incredibly awkward. Cock-blocking assholes. He drew Becky closer to the door. “Sorry about this. Had I known to expect this visit, I would have told these guys to take a hike.” He glanced at them. “I still could.”

  She shook her head. “No, don’t. You had plans. Sorry to hijack your evening like that. I just wanted…”

  “To thank me?” he touched her cheek.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Can I see you tomorrow?”

  “Yes.” She shook her head. “No. Tomorrow is the children’s Christmas party at the community hall and my brothers are in town for it.” She bit her lip.

 

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