GARY BRANDON, bigshot cardiologist. Well-traveled speaker.
Molly’s ex.
Someone Blake would rather not see.
As if on a cord, Molly pushed her chair away from Blake’s, the shriek of metal against tile echoing off the walls around them. “Do you mind if we leave? I don’t care where we go.”
The man who’d warned Molly moved in and squeezed her arm. “I’ll try to hold him off for a minute, if you want.”
“Thanks, Doug. I’d appreciate it.”
Blake got to his feet, not exactly sure what was going on, but Molly obviously didn’t want to run into the guy. Why that should make his psyche do a quick slide across the floor he had no idea.
“We can go back to the plane. I’m okay to fly, if you want to go home.”
Home. Unalaska wasn’t Molly’s home. At least not yet. But the word had sounded good coming off his tongue.
“Yes. Thanks.” She gave her friend a quick hug. “I owe you.”
He lifted his brows. “Bet you’re glad I made you get on that flight now.”
“Get out of here.” Molly rolled her eyes, then turned and headed for the nearest exit. “Is the plane still in front of the hospital?”
“They’ve probably already moved it to the hangar. We can get there through here.” He shrugged out of his coat and put it around her shoulders as they made their way to the door.
Molly shoved her arms through the sleeves.
“This is getting to be a habit.”
One that was going to be hard for him to break.
Sure enough, the plane was no longer on the stretch of tarmac behind the hospital, so they walked toward the terminal. It was chilly outside, but Blake was used to the weather. Besides, he needed to clear his head. Not wanting to see her ex meant nothing. He’d bet Sharon had no desire to run into him any time soon either. Maybe he was simply the lesser of two evils in Molly’s mind.
“You won’t say anything, about my trying to avoid him, will you? I’d rather he not know.”
“Gary was the man you dated?” He already knew the answer, but her reaction to Doug’s news made him uneasy.
Molly glanced at him. “I guess the hospital grapevine is alive and well.”
He nodded, preferring not to tell her he’d seen them together at the hospital or the irritation he’d felt while standing in line at the cafeteria and hearing the man cut Molly off in midsentence when she’d tried to make a point about hospital policy. He might be charming and good at what he did, but the guy was an overbearing jerk. Or was that just his own reaction to seeing Molly with him?
“Anyway,” she went on, “things were…awkward at the end.”
Realization dawned. “That’s why you took the job at the clinic.”
“Yes.” She paused. “And I’d rather that didn’t get out either.”
“I told you, I can keep a secret.”
She shot him another glance and gave a quick laugh. “You’ve said that before. You’re not with the CIA or anything, right?”
“Not CIA, but I was in the service. Navy.”
They reached the hangar, only to find the plane was in the process of being refueled. He opened the door so they’d at least have some shelter from the wind.
“Were you a pilot there as well?”
“Yep.”
“Really?” She smiled. “I didn’t know the navy recruited stunt pilots.”
He didn’t return her smile. Just like Molly had wanted to avoid her ex, this was one subject he’d rather steer clear of. So why had he mentioned being in the navy in the first place? Maybe because he wanted to gauge her reaction. He sucked down a deep breath and went for it. “I was a fighter pilot.”
A fighter pilot.
Molly’s throat tightened. What had started as light teasing on her part turned deadly serious. If he’d wanted an Evel Knievel-style job, a combat pilot was about as close as one could get. So what was he doing, flying shuttle service from Alaska to the Aleutians? “Why’d you get out?”
He paused and leaned against one of the hangar walls. “Just decided it wasn’t where I needed to be.”
That was a nonanswer if she ever heard one. Time to drop the lid on the curiosity box and lock it tight. If he wanted to tell her more, he would.
Move to a safer subject.
Before she could think of one, he jammed his hands in his pockets and looked away from her.
“On the way home from a training mission, a buddy of mine had some trouble with his aircraft. We made it back to the carrier and thought we were home free.” Blake stopped for a second. “His timing was off—whether it was due to engine malfunction or pilot error, I’m not sure. Anyway, he overshot the flight deck and his hook missed the wires completely. In trying to pull up to come back around…He didn’t make it.”
Molly understood almost nothing of what he’d described, but the raw grief in his voice told her everything she needed to know. Blake’s friend had died during a flight. Just like her father had. Her heart ached. “I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Even so.” She wanted to touch him, but his crossed arms and tight jaw warned her not to. “That’s why you got out?”
“That and…” he gave a hard laugh “…after the accident, my wife threatened to divorce me if I stayed in after my six years were up.”
“Oh.” He’d done as his ex-wife had asked, so he must have saved the marriage. At least temporarily. But in the end it hadn’t been enough. Who’d initiated that final separation?
None of your business, Molly. Remember that lid you just closed? Keep it shut.
Why would a woman divorce a man like this? What wasn’t to like about him?
That flash of straight white teeth and accompanying dimple when he laughed—even in anger—had gone right to her stomach, wiping her mind clear of any rational thought. The long sexy groove in his cheek was like an open invitation, and her eyes wanted nothing more than to stick around and explore further.
The words came out before she could stop them. “Your wife was a fool.”
Their eyes met and held. Molly wrapped her arms around her waist, her mouth going dry. Why had she said that?
She’d never felt this unsteady around a man. Not even Gary.
Fear of flying. It had thrown everything out of whack. Including her emotions.
It made sense. She’d met Blake and almost immediately had received a shot of adrenaline large enough to bring down an elephant. Put her nerves on edge enough times, and her reactions to him were bound to become ingrained, just like Pavlov’s dog.
Ding, ding, ding. She could almost hear the little bell that had sent the poor dog’s salivary glands into a frenzy.
At least she didn’t drool.
Yet.
A man peeked inside the hangar door. “Plane’s fueled up and ready to go.”
Blake straightened, his gaze slipping away. “Thanks.”
Once on the plane, he checked switches and buttons, a dizzying combination she couldn’t even begin to grasp. He’d said she could fly if she had to. She didn’t see how. Nothing on that panel made any sense to her.
“Buckle in.” His voice had gone back to pilot mode—not that the pitch was any lower than it was on the ground. He just infused it with a dose of calm certainty that said all would be well.
Yeah. And her nervous system still wasn’t buying it. Not yet, anyway. Fastening her seat belt, she pulled in a deep breath. “You sure you’re not too tired to fly back?”
“I’m fine.” He glanced to the side. “Do you need to take something?”
“I’ll be okay.” Sure she would.
All too soon they were speeding down the runway, then into the air. To her surprise, her stomach tagged along for the ride this time. Yay. That was a step in the right direction.
“You’re clutching again.”
“What?”
“Hands.”
She glanced down and blew her breath out in frustration. “Sorry.” She released her grip.
“I really am a decent pilot.”
His tone held not a hint of boasting. He wanted to reassure her. Nothing more.
“I know.” She held her arms out straight and wiggled her fingers. “Look…no hands.”
He sat up, rolling his shoulders as if relieving an ache. “Do that while landing, and I’ll be suitably impressed.”
“I bet I can.” Gulp. What?
But it worked. As they swooped down toward Dutch Harbor with its minuscule landing strip three hours later, she pressed herself deep into her seat, but held her hands up dutifully. They shook harder than the plane had during that first storm, but she kept them where they were. She did close her eyes, however.
They touched down—the lightest of bumps telling her they’d made it back to the island. Still alive. She parted her lids as Blake taxied off the runway, following the guidance of the ground crew. Once there, the engines shut down with a sigh of relief.
“Wow! Did you see that? I did it! No hands.” No one was more surprised than she was.
“You certainly did.”
He unstrapped his harness and shoved it away before turning toward her. The flare of heat in his gaze made her breath catch in her throat. Her lips parted.
Had she done something wrong?
Without a word he curved his hand around the back of her neck and hauled her toward him. She barely had time to gasp in a desperate bid to get some air into her lungs before his mouth came down hard on hers.