by Eve Kasey
He shook his head. “I need to go.”
Elle pushed through the twinge of disappointment. She felt like she was getting to know the real Chen, the secretly thoughtful man who had helped her bury Melvin. She wanted him to stay. “You know what? I think I will have another. Maybe I’ll watch a chick flick. Julia Roberts, in your honor.”
He smiled as he poured her a glass. Elle rose from the couch and joined him in the kitchen. Chen took a sip from her glass before handing it over, doubtless to see how she’d react to the cheeky move. Apparently, they were still playing games.
She took a drink from the spot marked by a slight smudge; the place where his lips had been seconds before, and tipped her head defiantly. She licked an errant drop from the rim.
His cheeks grew redder and his eyes darker, and it wasn’t the wine this time. Game, set, match.
“Thanks for lunch, and for Chen 101.”
He didn’t reply right away. She couldn’t tell if his silence was because he wasn’t clear on what the term meant, or if it stemmed from something else entirely. Elle skillfully read people; she always had. Her ability was partly why she was so good at her job. Chen, maddeningly, remained a mystery much of the time.
“You’re welcome.” His hand dragged across the counter, fingers trailing, inches from hers, as he walked around to her side. He paused so close that she could feel his warmth. She looked up into his face, tantalized by his closeness. His eyes held such intensity that she felt them brush her skin. Her lips. Her hair. Her neck. He drank her in slowly, fully, without touching her. She listened to his breathing and tried to control her own.
“Any more questions?”
His low, gravelly voice swept through her like a tide, pulling her away from herself. His head dipped lower as her heart rate reached for the sky.
She was dying to know if he tasted as good as he looked. If he’d actually fucking kiss her this time.
He halted, then his gaze rested on her lips and stayed.
Yeah, she had more questions. Elle wanted to know why the hell Chen was holding back.
16
Chen rushed through his hours on the training jet with Harvey, his co-pilot, the next morning. He knew how to fly a T-38: very carefully, especially when it came to landing. They were notoriously sensitive to crosswinds. Hell, he knew how to fly Stratos though he’d only completed simulations. The hours logged were merely performative. He wanted to be up already.
Stuck in torturous meetings all afternoon, he could hardly pander to the worries of Thomas, his direct superior, about the change in weight and shift in Stratos’ gravity from the addition of the six passenger seats.
“George was the most meticulous notetaker I’ve ever seen. He’s as good as your instruments, if not better. The calculations will be easy, and we’ll see how the new payload looks in a glide test. It’ll be fine.”
George, OrbitAll’s original test pilot, had been Tate’s very first hire. Another former Navy pilot, like everyone else, he’d helped Tate build their program and get the right people involved. He’d flown every test flight, and OrbitAll had dozens of binders of data to show for it. It was into those very capable, detail-oriented shoes Chen had stepped when George left for Pale Blue Dot, Tate’s competition.
From the sour look on his face, Thomas did not seem to agree with his chief pilot.
“A glide test is the perfect way to productively pass time while we’re waiting for the FAA to show up and test my skills. Let’s get the glide scheduled.”
A glide test, a run of Stratos’ systems without releasing her from Mothership, offered a low-risk option to assuage Thomas’ concerns about changes to the plane.
Chen had been studying for the FAA certification, a written and flight test that would allow him to legally fly in U.S. airspace, but not hard. He wasn’t a big studier. He also wasn’t a worrier. He wasn’t worried about getting his wings and he wasn’t worried about the change in Stratos. No, he was only worried about how much longer he could go without tasting Elle. Fuck, she was more alluring than the sky.
“It’s my damn program, Lew. I’ll decide when we do the glide.” He glanced at his second-in-command, Jordan. “Get the glide scheduled in the next few weeks.”
Chen held back his snort.
“And you better be studying,” he snapped, turning back to Chen. “You get one chance to pass your checkride.”
“Says who?” Chen teased.
“Me!”
Chen chuckled. Thomas was easier than Elle to goad into a red-faced reaction. The Chinese military had promoted him more than once. He could pass a series of exams for the U.S. government.
He gathered his notes and headed back to his makeshift spot in the hangar, tracking the movement of each person who walked by. He knew he was looking for Elle. Her lips on a wine glass loomed so large in his brain that he couldn’t concentrate on anything else.
Chen knew he shouldn’t act on this crushing attraction to his neighbor. His time in Victory was limited. If shit went sideways with Elle, he’d have to face her every day for the next two years. And if shit went right? Well, that would be even worse. Chen’s future would play out thousands of kilometers away, regardless of what might happen between them. Duty dictated that.
Knowing she should be off-limits didn’t keep him from wandering up to her office on the second floor after the hangar emptied out. His body could not be without her for long, despite what his brain told him. He paused in her doorway, drawn there for no reason other than he wanted to be near her. Elle was alone, her back to him, muttering to herself as she drew on the whiteboard wall. She’d piled her wild hair in a bun, an act that should be outlawed.
She and Tate had been filling in the milestones and tasks in her journey map. Notes and lists were scattered around the board in varying colors. But it was her sketches that grabbed his attention. Chen had no idea she had such talent. She’d drawn OrbitAll’s sparse driveway with rows of trees flanking each side, lights strung between them. The bleachers Chen had suggested had been drawn on one side of the runway. Binoculars, refreshments was printed neatly next to the sketch. A sign at the entry from the road read, All dreamers welcome. OrbitAll’s star-sprinkled logo surrounded the words.
“Oh, Elle. That sign. Magnifique.”
Chen started. Quinn had appeared stealthily at his side while he’d watched Elle work. She gave him a questioning look as she pushed past him into the office. Now that he’d been caught, he had no choice but to follow.
Elle looked up, her dark-eyed gaze moving between them. “Thanks. I wanted to run with OrbitAll’s welcoming message.”
“This is looking really good.” Quinn studied the whiteboard, then brought her eyes to Chen. “How does Thursday work for school visits? The elementary school, Elle’s brothers’ middle school, and the high school are all arranged.”
Chen shrugged. “Sure. I’m in your command.”
Elle’s smirk made him think he didn’t get the statement right.
Quinn’s freckled face brightened. “Great. You wanted to tag along, Elle? How are you with a camera?”
“Oh. Fine?”
Quinn dug a manila envelope out of the giant bag on her shoulder and set it on Elle’s table. “Photo releases are in there. I’ll want posed shots at the elementary school and some candids with the older students. And some close-ups of Chen in action. There’s coloring sheets for the petits enfants and postcards for everyone else. Like I said before, we’ll take them up as part of the payload in the next test flight.”
She moved to leave, but paused at the door just like Chen had done. She turned hazel eyes on him. “What are you going to wear?”
He blinked. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Do you have your flight suit yet?”
He shook his head. “Not from OrbitAll. Just my old one.”
Quinn squinted at him, apparently thinking that over. “Intéressant. I actually like that. The Chinese flight suit supports our message of inclusivity. Wear
that.” She smiled at Elle. “I’ll get you a camera before Thursday.”
Alone, Chen turned to the brunette beauty. “I guess we’re going to San Diego together.”
Was there any possibility the conflicted way he felt about her wasn’t written all over him?
She capped the marker in her hand and crossed her slender arms under her ample chest. “I guess we are.”
“Any good Chinese food there?” he asked.
“I’ll look into it.”
“How far is San Diego from here?” Translation: How much alone time were they going to get out of this?
“Depends.”
He raised an eyebrow. “On?”
“Whether you’re driving the toaster or I’m driving the Audi.”
Oh, then they should definitely drive the toaster. “How about I drive the Audi?” he suggested, smile widening.
Elle shook her head. A smile threatened in the corners of her mouth. “You’re dreaming.”
He was, and not about her car.
17
They met in the apartment’s parking lot shortly after dawn. Elle had dressed in black jeans and a red draped top with charcoal block-heel pumps. She’d taken extra time on her hair because she wanted to look good representing her family and company, not because Chen’s eyes moved through the strands like he could feel them in his fingers.
She knew what she wanted in her fairy tale man—in her first real, whole relationship—and it wasn’t someone who held himself back. Elle wanted someone who went all in. Ariel had given up the sea for Eric, Belle fell for the beauty beneath the beast. Elle craved that same kind of world-moving love, the kind she’d give.
Chen waited by her car, holding a bundle of green utilitarian fabric in his arms that was clearly his former flight suit. She was annoyed to find that he looked perfect, and perfectly delicious, in aviators and super-snug business casual attire.
She remotely unlocked the car while she was still yards away. He tossed his suit in while Elle took her final steps and a sip of scalding coffee from her travel mug. By the time she buckled herself in, her car already smelled like him. She ignored the zing up her spine.
“Morning,” she offered.
He just smiled roguishly and stared at her profile for longer than was necessary. He looked pleased with himself. Maybe because he was the star of the day, while Elle was just along as his personal paparazzo. She would bet good money that he’d be intolerably cocky by noon. She’d found what seemed like a legit Chinese dumpling place, his professed favorite food, but she’d hold that card until she saw how he behaved.
“What are we listening to?” he asked, as she pulled out of their complex.
She tapped on the touch screen and set her playlist of favorite songs to shuffle. “All my favorites. If you’re good, I’ll let you choose on the way back.”
They didn’t talk much for the first few dozen miles. Chen chuckled at his phone as he scrolled through Instagram and some Chinese site. Yeah, she peeked. There was hardly anyone else on the highway that stretched across the barren, brown side of California. When he checked his email, though, his countenance changed. A weighted sigh escaped him. Sideways glances showed words and photos that he scrolled through more than once, but the only detail she could decipher was his unhappiness.
“Are you all right?”
He took a long time answering. Finally, he said, “Sometimes I just want to forget what I owe them.” He cringed, like hearing himself say those words condemned him.
Elle wondered who “they” were and if he owed them more than money. A lieutenant colonel in a foreign and feared military? His endless shoe collection? Mystery people able to puncture his permanently buoyant mood? The fact that twice he hadn’t kissed her when he’d had the chance? Even after their little taco date at her place, she had more questions than answers about the man next to her.
He leaned his head back against the seat and sighed again.
Elle let him be. She hummed along to the music, eyes roaming the empty landscape. San Diego was lush and wild, the antithesis of their current view. She wondered what Chen would think of her hometown. And her brothers, she thought, with a wave of nerves. Personal and professional worlds would collide. Though Chen himself hovered somewhere in between.
A new song started. A few seconds passed before the lyrics sank in, then Elle lunged at her screen with a squeak. Chen sat upright, probably startled by her sudden movement. “What is it?”
She skipped past the song, exhaling in relief. “Nothing.”
“What song was that? Wait, can I guess? Britney Spears? ABBA? It’s not K-pop, is it?”
“Don’t worry about it,” she snapped.
Chen ignored her and navigated back to the song. She knocked his hand out of the way and skipped ahead. He moved it back, and turned the volume up for good measure. “Pay attention to the road while I investigate your music choices.”
“Forget about the damn song!”
“Damn song? Elle, I’m sure,” he paused, reading the screen, “Tucker Grant would be offended by that.”
Elle squirmed as the country singer’s sultry voice invaded the car at top volume. If the voice didn’t transport her back to the sexiest weekend of her life, the lyrics would. Tucker had captured the physical aspects of their weekend together in lurid detail. The marks they’d made in the sand, fucking weightless in the water, her hair offering the only coverage. He sang about it all.
“I see what’s going on here,” Chen said, tone gleeful. “This song is hot. Are you a prude, Elle?”
“No!” She shot him a glare. “This song is about me. Tucker was on my island and we had a fling.”
His eyebrows leapt into his hairline. “Oh.” He dragged the word out with delight. He leaned forward and turned up the volume up even higher, taunting her with his eyes. Heat flooded her cheeks and she was not pleased about it. She shouldn’t have given him the ammo.
She stared at the road until the song was over. Then her head turned toward him of its own accord. She braced herself for the impish smirk, the familiar commentary injected with humor and hubris.
Instead, she witnessed his body screaming for hers. She saw hunger in his eyes, in the hands fisted on his thighs. For the first time, Chen wasn’t holding back.
Elle was unprepared for the crush of longing that filled her. Tucker had been cute and fun, but her mind quickly replaced him with Chen’s big, muscled body and overly full lips. Chen was all man.
She couldn’t handle the silence or the questions that came with the dark, desirous light in his eyes. She brought her eyes back to the road.
Long moments passed before he cleared his throat. “Sounds like you and Tucker had quite the fling.”
“Not really. We only had the one weekend. I haven’t had much luck finding the whole package. In my experience, it’s either one or the other.”
“One or the other? You mean love or sex?”
“Yeah. I’ve never had both with one person.”
“That’s sad, Elle.”
Was that judgement or empathy? “Maybe. But I have hope that someone out there can offer me both.”
A quick glance showed that he’d turned to stare at the scenery flying by. His hands were still fisted. His voice sounded soft, meant more for himself. “That’s my hope, too.”
For her or him?
18
Outside the sprawling elementary school, Chen tried to shake off his mix of emotions. He’d gone from giddy to be in Elle’s presence to nanoseconds away from ripping the clothes from her body—because of a fucking song. Now all he could see was her hair cascading down bare breasts as she moaned in the moonlight.
Her eyes on him as he wiggled into his flight suit in the parking lot did not help deaden the desire that had launched to the surface. Her confession had come close. She wanted real love, a real relationship, and she was free to find it. Chen? He had a little over seven hundred days left to pretend he was free, too.
In that dour mood, h
e followed her to the entrance, where they were buzzed in and escorted to a classroom full of children that lifted his heavy heart sky-high.
The teacher, a middle-aged woman with a blond bob, smiled and waved them in. One of the many signs on the whiteboard introduced her as Mrs. Pomms. “Class, this is Mr. Lew, our new astronaut friend.”
He grinned. Astronaut friend might be his favorite title yet.
Cheers and a stampede followed the teacher’s announcement. In a kaleidoscope of color and noise, they were assaulted by tiny hands and voices. Elle giggled as they moved en masse to a rug at the front of the room. The kids quickly dropped to the ground and Chen followed, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the mayhem. Elle hovered in the periphery, Quinn’s camera in her hand.
“This is a very special treat. Mr. Lew is going to answer all your questions, read us a story, and I understand he’s also brought something special for you to work on that he’ll bring all the way to space on his next trip.”
The kids lost their minds. Chen had never been more excited to be an astronaut than he was in that moment.
The high didn’t wear off as he answered questions like, “Why is the moon gray?” “Have you ever seen a UFO?” “Have you touched a star?” “How fast is your rocket ship?” “Are there Skittles in space?” or when he read them a book about a raccoon visiting the moon. He colored a picture of Stratos at one of the miniscule tables, his legs sprawled to the side because they didn’t fit underneath. Elle snapped what seemed like a million pictures of him coloring with two little girls in sequins. One of them had a headband covered in stars. On the way out, he got two dozen high fives, three hugs, and a selfie with Mrs. Pomms.
Chen glowed brighter than a supernova all the way to Elle’s car. Inside, he slid his sunglasses on and sighed happily.
“I’m just gonna say it. That was fucking adorable,” she said. Her grin widened as they pulled into the middle school that offered an epic view of ocean waves. “I can’t wait to see my brothers. They changed so much while I was gone.”