SAM CHECKED the bathroom again. He’d bought her a case for the toothbrush she’d used last time. He’d stuck it away in a closet half an hour after she’d left. Maybe it would stay this time.
Emma was still sleeping, although he’d have to wake her soon. He’d laid out towels for a shower, a brand-new washcloth, toothpaste. Everything was squared away in there, so he went back to the kitchen. There were pancakes warming in the oven, coffee brewed, OJ if she wanted some.
He sipped from his own mug, then set it down. This acting-crazy business had to stop. Right now. He was an airman. He had dignity and purpose. He was not going to be undone by an after-sex breakfast.
After adjusting the table settings one more time then growling at his idiocy, he headed for the bedroom. Emma might not have to be at school until ten, but he needed to be at the base. It was back to work for him, although classes wouldn’t start until Wednesday. Tomorrow was orientation. Today would be setting up his shared office, which amounted to a big crate in the middle of the desert.
They were air-conditioned crates, but from the outside they looked like something from a shipping yard. All sand-colored to blend in to the arid land on which they were parked.
Inside most of them, and there were a hell of a lot, they’d find computer monitors, a couple of big old chairs, joysticks and enough electronics to send a nerd to heaven. The student pilots would sit on the left, and the sensor operators, who monitored the aircraft and weapons system, on the right. They would interact with the most vividly realistic images of terrain available on the planet as they learned how to navigate, observe, collect data and deploy armaments.
When they graduated, they would move to different bays, only the exercises would no longer be simulated.
But all that could wait, because the woman in his bed was moving, and he got a bird’s-eye view of what she looked like waking up.
He wanted to rip off his uniform and climb in next to her.
“You’re already dressed,” she said, her arms flung high in a luxurious stretch that spread all the way down to her toes. He knew that for a fact, as he’d watched her stiffen beneath the covers.
“You know the military. They just hate it when you show up for work naked.”
“I’d like to see that, actually. If you wouldn’t mind.”
He grinned. “For you? Anything. But you might want to know that there are actual pancakes ready in the oven, and coffee and orange juice in the fridge. Eggs, too, if you want.”
“God, how did you know I’d be starving to death?”
“I didn’t feed you last night.”
“Right,” she said. “Totally worth it.”
“If you want to shower, go ahead. I don’t have fresh clothes, but everything else is at your disposal.”
Her smile lit him up inside. “Damn shame about that whole work thing.”
He groaned, almost moved toward the bed, but stopped himself. “You...are trouble,” he said, his stern look undermined by the rasp in his voice.
She smiled wider and he turned away. He had to. She was far too tempting, and he couldn’t trust himself any longer. He busied himself in the living room, turning on the stupid-ass fountain. Then reading the titles of the books on his shelf.
When he figured it was safe, he went to the kitchen and waited. It should have been no big deal. He was a ten-year veteran of the hurry-up-and-wait air force. But he paced like an expectant...boyfriend.
At least he hoped he was no longer in the friend zone. Because, damn, last night had been about as good as it ever got. The only thing better would be more of the same.
When she finally arrived in her shorts and T-shirt, she didn’t even look at the table. She just threw her arms around his neck and kissed him until he got dizzy. He hadn’t even realized he’d picked her up until she kicked him in the ankle.
“Sorry,” she murmured, looking anything but.
“It’s okay. Now sit that gorgeous bottom down and let me serve you breakfast. Coffee first?”
“Need you ask?”
He poured her a mug, not the one with the boobs, then brought out the pancakes.
“What’s on the agenda today?” she asked, reaching for the milk he’d set on the table. “First class?”
“Prep for the first class. Getting my desk squared away, along with the study plans.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“I’ll undoubtedly come begging for help when classes begin. Although I did some of that during my training. It’s different, though, when it’s the real deal.”
“Just try and do name mnemonics at first. It’ll automatically make the students like you better if you remember their names, and they’ll want to please you more.”
“These guys are pilots. I don’t think that trick will apply.”
She gave him a funny look, which he couldn’t quite read, but it still made him wish he’d kept his mouth shut. But airmen, pilots in particular, were accustomed to being addressed by their rank and surname.
“Oh, right. Yeah. I forgot we were talking about pilots and not mere mortals.”
“Hey.”
Emma shook her head. “I’m kidding.”
“You’re not. But I understand. Officers can be...a unique challenge. But I like your thinking. Any other tips?”
“Yep. How about we make plans for you to buy me that dinner you promised?”
The kick he got from knowing there would be more of Emma took the sting out of her comment. It had to be difficult for an outsider to put up with all the military crap, especially where pilots were concerned. Modesty wasn’t exactly a sought-after trait. “How does tonight work for you?”
Emma ate some more of her pancake, then shook her head. “I’ve got an online workshop tonight.”
“That’s okay. Fine.” He put down his fork. “Can I see you after?”
She smiled again, and he felt her toes running up his calf. “I think we can work something out.”
“It’s going to be a long damn day.” He reached for her foot and almost caught it before she pulled back, trying not to laugh with her mouth full. “I need to ask you something.”
“Yes?”
“Does this mean we’re going steady?”
The look she gave him was almost perfect. But he couldn’t help catch the tiny hesitation, the darting glance. “I think we’ve both ruled out the friends-only thing.”
“But...?”
“I haven’t heard that stupid term in a million years, although I can’t think of one that’s better. So, yes. We’re going steady. However, I have to clear up some things on my end before we take out an ad in the paper.”
“Is that something people do in Alamogordo?”
She flicked a crumb at him. “You’ve been my boyfriend for less than five minutes, and you’re already giving me sass?”
“I’ll show you sass,” he said, standing up and giving her no time to prepare before he swept her into a kiss that almost sent them both tumbling.
He had her, though. And he wasn’t about to let her fall. He might not be having the career he’d always wanted, but if he played his cards right, he just might end up winning after all.
* * *
THE RERUNS OF THE NIGHT and this morning had been a continuous, wonderful loop all the way back to her place. But once she stepped inside, the rainbows and unicorns stopped. She had to speak to Gary. Today, if at all possible.
He already knew something was up. She’d hurried through their day at Cloudcroft, had shown her hand at bowling. Gary hadn’t even questioned her disappearance from the funnel-cake booth at the festival. In fact, he’d asked her why Sam hadn’t come to sample a treat for himself. Coming from another guy it might’ve been a snide remark implying he’d seen them in the car. But not from Gary. That was what made what she had to tell him so difficult. He was at heart a decent man and a good friend.
As soon as she’d finished changing clothes and pulling all her things together for her afternoon class, she called him. He would be in his office at the moment, and she was pretty sure she’d get his voice mail. Nope.
“I thought you might have come in early today,” he said. “Late night?”
“Not particularly,” she said, wincing. He might have meant that innocently but then again maybe he was capable of being snide. “Can you meet me for coffee after our two o’clock class?”
He didn’t say anything for a drawn-out moment. “Sure. X-Presso?”
“Yes, great. See you then.” She disconnected, but didn’t move from the center of the kitchen as she tried to figure out what she was going to say to him that wouldn’t hurt their friendship.
* * *
GARY ARRIVED FIRST, and he’d already bought her a cup of chai and found them a table. If she’d gotten there before him, she’d have ordered his mocha with a shot. There were surprisingly few airmen in the base-exchange café. She was glad. This was a conversation best not overheard.
“So, I’m guessing this is about Sam?”
She didn’t bother to outright deny it, although his declaration messed up the opening she’d rehearsed. “Actually, it’s more about me than Sam. I didn’t expect him to come back into my life. Now that he is, things have gotten complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
She sipped her drink to cover her surprise. This wasn’t going the way she’d imagined. “I don’t want things to change between you and me. You’re one of my best friends. We’ve gotten to know each other well over the last year, and I like you. A lot.”
“But...?”
“Sam is important to me, as well. I’m not sure how it’s going to wind up. Maybe friendship, maybe more.”
“I see,” he said, nodding. He seemed disappointed, but not as much as she’d expected. In fact, his whole attitude was disconcerting.
She leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic chair. “You understand that I don’t want to change the status quo. With us, I mean.”
“Yeah, I do. I get why things seem complicated. Sam’s an old friend. The two of you share a lot of history. And hell, he’s a good-looking man. A fighter pilot. I imagine it’s very exciting to be with him.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Emma didn’t see where he was going with this. Gary wasn’t a vindictive man, and she didn’t want to believe he’d be ugly about this.
He leaned forward and looked her straight in the eyes. “But I don’t think he’s the right man for you, Emma. You were young when you married Danny, and the excitement of being with a fighter jock was great. A real thrill, I’m sure. But you’re not that kid anymore. I know you want a family. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but you’ve brought up the subject of fighter pilots a few times. How you were done with all that flash and burn. That dating a flyboy was fine for a while, but not for the long term.”
She felt her face flush and her anger rise. Had she actually told Gary something so personal? Or had Sharon? “Wait a minute—”
“I’m not making that up. Sharon was there.”
Wow, Emma didn’t remember that, which was pretty messed up. “Even if I did, that’s really none of your business.”
He looked down, but only for a few seconds. When he met her gaze again, he was full of determination. “I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable, but I take being a friend seriously. And I believe you deserve better. Someone who can offer you stability, who’ll be around. Someone you can count on for the long run. Someone patient. Like me.”
Emma could barely breathe she was so filled with confusion and, frankly, outrage. “You and Sharon been plotting this talk for a while?”
He shook his head. “No. Although I’m sure she sees the same things I do. I’m not asking you to give up your friendship with Sam. Go for it. Not that I have any say. But you need to know that I’ll still be here on the other end.”
“The other end of what?”
“Sizzle like that only lasts for so long.”
“You do know he’s not a fighter pilot any longer. He’s an instructor.”
Gary nodded. “The job may have changed, but the man was and is a fighter pilot. He’ll always be that. Think about the retired pilots we both know. The ones with the speedboats, who do stunt flying in air shows. It’s in the blood, Emma.”
“Well,” she said, gathering her purse and standing. “I appreciate your opinion. I’ll certainly keep it under advisement.”
“Look, all you really need to know is I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay.” She barely managed a token smile. “Thanks for the chai.”
“Running tomorrow?”
“We’ll see,” she said. “I’m having dinner with Sam, and I’m not sure how late I’ll be out.”
“Either way, I’ll be at the track.”
She nodded, then left the BX, her anger fueling her quick walk to her car. Of all the nerve. Gary had no business shoving his way into her business. No right. They were friends. Colleagues. So she ran with him in the mornings. And they’d palled around outside work sometimes. He didn’t get to have an opinion on who she dated or what she did with her private life.
As she made her way out of the base, she had to brake suddenly for a motorcycle. It wasn’t the sports model that Sam was interested in, but it stopped her inner rant short.
Okay, so Gary wasn’t completely wrong. She couldn’t deny that, at least not for long. He’d brought up most of her own arguments and held them in front of her face. But the thought of not seeing Sam tonight made her ache.
What Gary didn’t know, what no one could know, including her, was how his nonflight status was going to change Sam’s life. He wanted a family. He knew what it was to have an absentee father. One of the things that kept popping up in articles about the new RPA fleet was how it gave active duty pilots an eight-to-five life, which they’d never had when flying the fast movers.
Yes, she and Sam would have to discuss the motorcycle, but she had faith he would see reason. He wasn’t a kid anymore, just as she wasn’t. They weren’t destined to crash and burn. And she wasn’t going to bail when they’d barely started.
* * *
THE BANKS OF VIDEO SCREENS were spaced just far enough apart that Sam could efficiently keep his focus on one simulator bay at a time in short bursts of intense concentration. He and two other instructors that he barely knew had been assigned their individual sections, and as it was the first day for the trainees to be in the simulators, the instructors had fed in the same practice video, each spooled to run at the same time.
Sam’s coffee was growing cold even though he held it in his hand. It would take some getting used to, this arrangement and the screen array. During his own training, things had been just different enough that he’d need to reprogram his movements and find a new rhythm.
“Sandoval better be having first-day jitters.” Captain Cooper jiggled the keys in his uniform pocket. An unconscious habit, evidently, and one Sam refused to let under his skin. “Because he’s lost tracking on that vehicle three times already.”
“I’d give it a week before coming to any conclusions about this batch,” Lieutenant Colonel Adams said. He’d been an instructor at Holloman for three years and had a lot of experience, which was why he was in the instructor’s bay with Sam and Cooper, who were the new kids in town. “Almost everyone gets a pass before we get down and dirty.”
Even though they went through the first phase of instrument simulator flying and academics, the students would be piloting real MQ-9s and using live payloads.
Not today, though. First three days were simulations only. Second through fifth week was tracking with no armaments. The students needed to get their bearings, but more important, the instructors needed those first weeks to get the true measure of their trainees. Not everyone made it through.
Sam’s gaze went back to the top row of screens, and while there was some sloppy tracking going on, his section seemed to be doing okay.
Something on middle row right caught his eye. The pilot was an 18X by the name of Second Lieutenant Zachary. The sensor in the next seat over was a former helicopter pilot, Lieutenant Wilson. It was Zachary whom Sam was watching, and the guy was moving lower than recommended and damned if he didn’t trigger an arms release. All the students had been given the mission of tracking a specific white SUV through desert terrain. Tracking did not mean blowing shit up, even if it was all pretend.
“Colonel, I’ve got a problem in simulator bay 4A55.”
“Go handle it,” Adams said, and Sam left the trailer.
The sun was brutal outside, and the walk was a long one to Zachary’s bay. This was the kind of behavior that had to be nipped in the bud, and Sam used the time before he got to 4A55 to go over what he’d need to say.
He surprised the two men, but they didn’t stop the mission, which was good, because he would have raised hell if they had. Positioning himself at the back of the crowded simulator bay, Sam crossed his arms, focusing on Zachary, but his sensor would take the heat as if he’d done the deed. “You know why I’m here, gentlemen?”
“Yes, sir,” Zachary said. “I stepped outside the mission parameter, sir.”
“Yes, you did. And it troubles me, Lieutenant, because every time you put your thumb on a red button, you are prepared to kill. Every time. This is not a video game where you get to try again. Just as with your service weapon, the only time you aim is when you are prepared to end lives. There is no room in this air force for men who treat these RPAs as anything less than the active and dangerous weapons they are. Do you understand, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Lieutenant Wilson, did you go over the mission parameters with your pilot before you put your MQ in the air?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Were you aware that Lieutenant Zachary had engaged the armaments?”
“No, sir.”
“I suggest you gentlemen reread your regulations, and go over your training materials, because this is the last warning you’ll ever receive about misuse and mishandling of an RPA. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Carry on,” he said, then stepped outside once again. Those two would be on their best behavior, knowing that getting called out on day one was no way to get ahead. And Wilson would probably have plenty to say to his partner. All Sam knew for sure was that he did not want one of his trainees to wash out. In fact, he didn’t want to hear of any kind of misconduct, malicious or not, from any member of his team.
Frankly, the whole screwup pissed him off. God, they were young. Sam remembered the kind of stunts he, Danny and John had pulled during their initial training, but never in class, never with the equipment. They’d gotten stupid in bars and cars and, God knew, with women.
But the three of them had understood that when they were in a classroom or a simulator or a plane, it was all business, all the time. His students would learn the same thing before the initial phase of training was over. He’d see to it.
As he headed back to his trailer, he pulled out his cell. Emma would be between classes at the moment. Her schedule was more complicated than half the missions he’d flown, but he’d memorized most of it.
“Hey, Captain,” she said, answering on the first ring.
“Got a minute?”
“You bet.”
“I just had to give one of my students hell.” When she didn’t reply, he realized his voice had probably clued her in that he wasn’t finished. “It was hard. I didn’t like it.”
Emma laughed, and he wasn’t sure if it was with him or at him. “Oh, sweetie, you really are a rookie teacher. But don’t worry, it gets easier.”
He was grinning himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to chew out a subordinate, but he’d still milk the situation for all it was worth. “Ah, so you were laughing at me.”
“Completely.”
“Fine. Be that way. The thing is, I want my people to want to do well. I want them to fight to be the best. It’s my job to motivate them to do exactly that.”
“Ah, sweetie, it’s your first day. Give it a minute. I can’t imagine you being anything less than the best instructor at the base.”
“Thank you,” he said, making it sound like he was pouting. “I think I deserve to go out for Mexican tonight. How late is your online class?”
Emma cleared her throat, but she couldn’t completely hide her laugh behind it. “Wow, if you’re going to eat a couple of chimichangas every time you have to dress down a student, you won’t be fitting in those tight jeans of yours for long.”
“How’d you remember I like those damn things?”
“There’s lots I remember about you. And yet I still want to know more.”
“I look forward to it.” Shit, he had to stop grinning like this while in uniform. “Starting tonight?”
“Dinner still won’t work for me, but save room for dessert, will you? Oh, gotta go.”
He hung up and slowed his walk, trying to convince his enthusiasm over dessert to settle the hell down so his fellow instructors wouldn’t think he got off on chastising students.