Beach Reads Boxed Set

by Marie Force

  “How are the nerves?” he asked.

  “Better. How about you?”

  “Much better. Are you hungry?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m starving.” He seemed reluctant to let her go and kept an arm around her as he reached for his bag and led her into the restaurant.

  Seated by a window that overlooked the runway, he ordered a beer and a glass of white wine for her.

  “Dicey ride tonight.” He stretched the kinks out of his neck. “Really bumpy.”

  “Where were you coming from?”

  “Atlanta. We flew through all the crap you had earlier.”

  “Is that scary? When it’s bumpy?”

  “Not for us, but the passengers don’t like it. Freaks them out.”

  “I don’t think I’d like it, either.”

  He crooked an eyebrow in amusement. “Never been on a bumpy flight?”

  She hesitated before she said, “I’ve never been on any flight.”

  The expression on his face was priceless. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Just what I said.” She smiled at his amazement. “I’ve never been on an airplane.” She picked up the menu and got busy studying it, aware that he was still staring at her.

  “There’s no way you’ve never been on a plane.”

  “If you say so.”

  “So, by ‘never’ you mean—”

  “Never. I’ve never flown in a plane, a helicopter, a hot-air balloon, a blimp, or anything else that goes up in the sky.”

  He sat back in his chair. “Well, we’re just going to have to fix that.”

  Wary, she looked at him over her menu. “Define ‘fix.’”

  “I’m going to take you flying. Soon.” He picked up his menu. “I feel like a steak. What about you?”

  Over dinner, she learned his mother had died of cancer almost two years earlier, but because he didn’t seem to want to talk about it, she didn’t press him for details. She heard about his younger brother and sister, both of whom were married and living near their father in Lafayette, Indiana. What she really wanted him to tell her was the story of his heroic action on the January flight, but she figured he was probably sick of talking about it so she refrained from asking.

  “What do they do? Your brother and sister?”

  “My brother is a supervisor at the Subaru plant, and my sister works for Eli Lilly, the pharmaceutical company. They both went to Purdue, which is right in West Lafayette.”

  “Where did you go?”

  After a long drink of his beer, he said, “Embry-Riddle in Florida for aeronautical engineering.”

  “I don’t even know what that is,” she said with a laugh.

  “It’s the science of designing planes that stay in the air.”

  The simplistic explanation amused her. “Did you always want to fly?”

  “For as long as I can remember. There was a general aviation field about a mile down the road from where we grew up. I was about eight when I started riding my bike over there every day after school. I used to sweep the floors in the hangar for free just so they’d let me hang out.”

  She smiled at the picture he painted of the eager young boy who lived for airplanes.

  “When I was fourteen, my parents finally gave in and let me take lessons from the guy who owned the field. I soloed on my sixteenth birthday, and I’ve been flying ever since. In fact, I had my pilot’s license before my driver’s license.”

  “Not many people can say that. How long have you been with Capital?”

  “Just over three years. I did ten years in the Navy before that, flying fighter jets, which was really fun.”

  Olivia was mesmerized listening to him. He had led an exciting life, full of the kind of adventure she craved. “Were you ever in combat?”

  “When I was stationed on the John F. Kennedy—that’s an aircraft carrier—I flew missions into Iraq enforcing the no-fly zone between the two wars. I got shot at a couple of times but never had any serious close calls.”

  “What’s that like? Flying from a ship?”

  “There’s nothing more dangerous—or thrilling—than landing a jet on a carrier,” he said with a cocky grin. “Big plane aiming at a small, rolling target. It gets the blood pumping, that’s for sure.”

  “And of course you loved the rush,” she said with a smile.

  “Hell yeah. I miss it.”

  “Why did you leave the Navy?”

  He sighed. “I didn’t want to, especially since we were at war. But the Navy was phasing out my program, and I was anxious to get into the private sector. In the airlines, everything is based on seniority. I was already thirty-two, and we face mandatory retirement at sixty-five. If I did another tour in the Navy, I’d be getting a really late start on the second career. It was a tough decision, believe me.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “There was this young petty officer on my flight crew, he was maybe nineteen or twenty, and he knew I was struggling with the decision to get out. One day he said, ‘Commander, you’ve done ten years more than most people will ever do. You don’t owe your country anything. Go on home now.’ It was… freeing to know he felt that way.”

  “He gave you permission.”

  “Exactly,” he said, seeming pleased that she understood.

  “Did you go work for Capital right away?”

  “It took a few months to hammer out the details, which was frustrating because I wasn’t flying much while I waited to start. But it was worth the wait. I like the job. They’re a real pilot-friendly airline—a nice company to work for.”

  “You were so lucky to know what you wanted to do from such a young age.”

  “It’s my passion, that’s for sure.” His face lifted into a sexy half grin that melted her bones. “So you’ve asked me about everything except the elephant in the room.”

  Olivia felt her face get warm. She didn’t dare let on that she’d spent an entire evening online reading every word she could find about what had happened—including his brief but reportedly passionate relationship with one of the passengers. The pictures of him with the gorgeous redhead he’d broken up with months ago had made Olivia insanely and irrationally jealous.

  “I figured you’d tell me if you wanted to.”

  “Well, isn’t that refreshing. Everyone I’ve met since it happened has expected a grand retelling of the story.”

  “You don’t have to…”

  He shrugged. “I don’t mind.” Running his fingers through his hair and leaving it nicely tousled, he leaned his elbows on the table. “We were on final approach to LaGuardia in a nasty snowstorm. The ceiling had dropped much faster than they’d forecasted so we were coming in IFR—meaning we were flying totally reliant on the instruments because we had zero visibility.”

  Olivia shuddered. “I can’t imagine that.”

  “It’s fun,” he said with a big grin.

  “You have a queer sense of fun.”

  “So I’ve been told.” He took a sip from his beer. “Anyway, we’re on final approach, it’s snowing like a bastard, and all of a sudden, the captain just gasps and goes limp in his seat.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I shook him and called his name, but he didn’t respond. At that point, my primary concern was getting that plane full of people on the ground and then keeping it from skidding off the runway in the snow.”

  Filled with anxiety on his behalf, Olivia tried to imagine the situation. “It must’ve been awful not to be able to do anything for him.”

  Cole’s jaw tightened. “It was. He’s a great guy. A good friend.” He ran a finger through the condensation on his glass. “Anyway, I got the plane down and stopped right on the taxiway, called for help, dragged him out of the seat, and started CPR on the floor.”

  “The passengers had no idea any of this was going on?”

  “Not until I had to open the cockpit door so I’d have enough room to stretch him out.”

  “You must’ve
been freaking.”

  “To tell you the truth, I barely remember. It all happened so fast. By the time the paramedics got to us, the captain’s heart had started beating again, and he was breathing.”

  “That’s so awesome,” Olivia said with genuine admiration. “How’d you end up all over the news?”

  He laughed at that. “Just my luck that it was a slow news week. If Iran had decided to shoot off one of its missiles that day, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “Oh, I bet you still would’ve gotten plenty of attention. The handsome, heroic pilot saves the day and saves a life It’s made for Hollywood.”

  “You think I’m handsome, huh?”

  “Well, you’re not ugly.”

  He hooted with laughter. “Gee, thanks.”

  “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” she said with a giggle. “So you became an instant celebrity.”

  “Which was not what I wanted. Of course, it didn’t help when Bob Greenman went on the Today show and told them what a hero I was and how I’d saved his life. He even trotted out the grandchildren to thank me for saving their Papa.”

  Olivia laughed at his dismay.

  “Then they interviewed the passengers who’d coined the revolting Captain Incredible nickname.” He shuddered as Olivia continued to laugh. “The end result was months on the dog-and-pony circuit, thanks to the Capital PR people who couldn’t resist the opportunity to extol the virtues of their highly trained staff.”

  “You loved it.”

  “No, my father loved it. He even made a scrapbook of all the coverage. I just tolerated it. For a week or two, it was kind of fun, especially when the President invited me to be in the audience for the State of the Union speech. That was wild.”

  “Was it so cool to meet the president?”

  “It was amazing. Truly. After that, though, it all got really tedious, and all I cared about was getting back to flying. In fact, I truly hope I just told ‘the story’ for the very last time.”

  “Thank you for telling me, and for what it’s worth, I’m very proud of you.”

  He seemed taken aback and pleased by the compliment. “It’s worth a lot,” he said, clearing his throat. “Anyway, enough about me and my passion. Let’s talk about you and yours.”

  “I don’t know if I’d call it that. It’s just something I do.”

  “Why do you make light of such an amazing talent?”

  His eyes were intense and fixed on her. Olivia found she couldn’t look away.

  “I don’t know,” she finally said. “It’s just a hobby.”

  “Did you bring some of your work with you?”

  She nodded, reached for her bag, and withdrew her sketch pad.

  He took it from her, brushed the crumbs off the table that had been cleared by the busboy, and flipped the pad open.

  Olivia watched as he studied each page for what seemed like a full minute before he moved to the next one.

  “These are incredible, Olivia. I feel like I know these people. You don’t just capture how they look. You get to their spirit, the thing that makes them them.”

  Nothing he could’ve said would have meant more to her.

  He was quiet as he examined the other drawings—until he reached the one she had done of him after their coffee date.

  “Wow,” he said, laughing. “Do I really come across that confident and cocky?”

  “I just draw what I see,” she joked.

  “My father would love this. He’s always teasing me about being cocky.”

  Reaching across the table, she eased the page out of the pad, rolled it up, and handed it to him. “Give to him.”

  “Only if you sign it,” he said with a delighted smile. He took a pen from his shirt pocket and passed it to her. “I want him to know he’s getting an Olivia Robison original. It’ll be worth a fortune someday.”

  Touched by his faith in her, Olivia wrote her name in the corner. “I’ve never signed one before,” she said as she gave it back to him.

  “That’s a damned shame. You should take credit for every one of them.”

  Their waitress came by the table to see if they wanted coffee or dessert.

  “Olivia?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Just the check, please,” Cole said, glancing at his watch. “Damn it.”

  “Are you late for another date?” she teased.

  “Nope, but I’m about to turn into a pumpkin. I have to fly at eight in the morning, and I need to go to bed. The pesky FAA requires us to get a good night’s sleep.” He reached across the table for her hand.

  Surprised and unnerved by the jolt, Olivia stared at their joined hands.

  “I’m not ready,” he said.

  She looked up to meet his intense gaze. “For what?”

  “For our date to be over. I looked forward to it all week.”

  “So did I.”

  Neither of them looked away for a long, breathless moment that was interrupted only when the waitress arrived with their check.

  Cole opened it, and his face went blank.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He crumpled up a piece of paper and tossed it on the table. “Nothing.”

  Olivia reached for the paper, unrolled it, and couldn’t believe that the waitress had slipped him her number along with the check.

  “Olivia—”

  “Does this happen often?”

  His face was set in an unreadable expression. “It’s let up some, but I’m still astounded by how rude people can be. I’m clearly here on a date. Does she honestly think I’m going to call her?”

  “I can’t imagine what she’s thinking.”

  “At least she didn’t fake a heart attack hoping I’d give her mouth to mouth.”

  Olivia stared at him, aghast. “Has that really happened?”

  “Three times so far.”

  “Unbelievable.”

  He drew an American Express gold card from his wallet.

  “Let me chip in.”

  “No way. I asked you.”

  She propped her chin on her fist and studied him. “So if I ask you somewhere, I can pay?”

  His grin lit up his face. “Does that mean I can look forward to you asking me out?”

  “Maybe.”

  “We’ll negotiate terms if and when you ask.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “The Sheraton Old Town. The airline has a deal with them, so we always stay there.”

  “That’s right down the road from where I live.”

  He got up and reached for her hand. “Share a cab?”

  “I don’t normally do cabs, but since you’re pressed for time I’ll make an exception.” She curled her hand around his and followed him from the restaurant. “Oh, look, honeymooners,” she whispered, nodding at a couple across the corridor.

  “How do you know?”

  “Well, I don’t know for sure, but I love making up stories for the people I see in the airport.”

  He released her hand and put an arm around her, drawing her close to him. With his lips against her ear, he said, “What would you guess about us?”

  His nearness made her lightheaded. “With you in uniform and pulling your suitcase, I’d say you picked me up in the bar and we’re heading to your hotel.”

  Abruptly, he steered her away from the exit and up the escalator to the second floor, which was all but deserted late on that Friday night.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Since my hotel isn’t an option—at least not tonight—we’re going over here.”

  “Over here” was a dark corner that overlooked the well-lit runways. Across the Potomac, the U.S. Capitol building lit up the night sky.

  “Pretty, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “I never get tired of looking at it.”

  “Neither do I.”

  But when she glanced up at him, his eyes were set on her, not the Capitol. And then his hands were cradling her face and his lips were gliding soft
ly over hers. Any jolt she had felt before paled in comparison to what she experienced when his tongue traced her bottom lip. Her hands landed on his chest and then found his shoulders under his uniform coat.

  As it was happening, Olivia told herself this was a moment to be remembered. No matter what happened—or didn’t happen—between them, she would have this perfect kiss, this perfect moment.

  She felt his hand encircle her neck as his other arm tightened around her.

  His tongue nudged at her lips, and when she opened her mouth to welcome him, he groaned.

  Never in her life had Olivia experienced a kiss quite like this—a kiss that made her want to tear off his clothes and have him. Right here. Right now. She whimpered under the weight of the need that blazed through her.

  Misinterpreting her whimper as one of distress, he quickly pulled back from her.

  She straightened him out by reaching for him to bring him back.

  The second kiss was somehow more than the first. After several long, hot minutes, his fist tightened in her hair and his lips moved to her neck.

  “Cole…” Her voice sounded huskier and deeper than usual.

  He rolled her earlobe between his teeth. “Hmm?”

  She trembled. “You have to go. The FAA, remember?”

  “Never heard of ’em.”

  With a hand on his chest, she held him back. “Flying, eight o’clock. Ringing any bells?”

  This time he whimpered as she took his hand and led him to the exit.

  The moment they were in the backseat of the cab, he picked up where he’d left off in the terminal. His lips were soft, his tongue insistent, and Olivia gasped when his hand brushed against her breast.

  All at once they seemed to realize they were on the verge of losing control in a cab. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him for the remainder of the ride.

  “After tomorrow, I’m off for eight days,” he said. “I could catch a hop and come back for a couple of days next weekend—if you want me to.”

  “I want you to.”

  “Will you have to work?”

  “I’ll figure something out.”

  “Remember when you asked me what this is that we’re doing?”

  She nodded against his chest.

  “I’m still not entirely sure, but whatever it is, I’m liking it.”