Private Maneuvers (Wingmen Warriors 4)

He opted for the first diversion that came to mind.

Max arranged his expression into that checking-out frown, not at all a difficult proposition. "Wanna go out for a drink tomorrow night?''

Sure.

Darcy winced at her inane reply to Max's invitation earlier.

Even eight hours later as she stood on the flight line at Andersen AFB, Guam, she still wanted to exchange her answer for something...snappier. So much for her grand plan of being like her sister, Alicia. But talking with Max had been interesting, then distracting, and before long she was coming on to him for real, being herself.

Boot propped on the load ramp, she watched Max direct the unloading of Lucy and Ethel. The fiberglass crates moved on rollers toward two flatbed trucks.

Palms rustled in the breeze, the ocean visible just beyond the trees. The morning sun crept over the horizon in a shimmering orange ball, warming an already muggy day. Seduced by the sultry tropical breezes, she could almost forget Guam was the scene of so many bad memories.

Darcy plucked at her grimy flight suit, Max looking too darned fresh. The slicker gone, he'd cuffed his chambray sleeves to work with the loadmasters. He steadied the crate during the crane transfer, muscles straining against his well-worn jeans until her toes curled in her boots.

This sexy, fascinating guy had asked her out and the only answer she'd scrounged up was, Sure.

Not, I'll have to get back to you once I've checked the flight schedule.

Or something elusive but witty like, We always gather at the Officers' Club. I'm sure we could find an extra bar stool for you.

Or even just a mature, straightforward, That sounds great. How about I meet you at the Officers' Club around seven?

Nope. She'd gone all shivery like some high schooler standing beside her locker with the quarterback.

Sure.

In the distance, wild boonie dogs howled a mocking salute. Not a great omen for her drink date.

Max pulled a clipboard from Tag's hands and flipped through the pages, scrawling notations. His pen stopped, hovering on the papers.

He looked up, straight at her, and Darcy forgot all about confrontations with her commander and dreaded calls to her father. For a moment she could have sworn she found an echo of her own confusion in Max's eyes. Not that she actually could have seen it since he stood a good twenty or so yards away.

But, oh, what if she had? The notion teased at her, warming that inexperienced "sure" part of her more than the morning sun rising overhead.

Perhaps with all that time spent in the hallowed halls of academia, he might not be as savvy as he looked. His dedication to his job and sea mammals was obvious. What if his social life stunk as much as her own, thanks to work?

Her fling fantasy with a beach-bum, genius lothario morphed into a new scenario. Maybe he was shy.

Confident in his academic realm, but as awkward as she was when it came to relationships. That would explain why he'd suddenly blurted out an invitation after seeming reluctant to talk.

Darcy's flagging confidence upped a notch. She didn't imagine for a minute the guy might actually be a virgin, especially after the slow-simmer looks he'd given her. But maybe, just maybe, she'd found someone she could trust enough to be herself with, dopey "sure" sorts of answers and all.>A restlessness that inched her so close he could read the stitched lettering on her patches. Her arm declared her squadron's motto of Anything. Anywhere. Anytime.

With her soft-scented body a reach away, the words curled through his brain with shades of meaning he didn't want or need now. "Well then, I'll get back to—"

"Are they both girls?" Darcy pointed to the other transport crate. "Or is that one a boy?"

The woman had a knack with questions, and for a man used to being the one who excavated answers, the experience set him on edge. "Females, both of them."

"What're their names?"

"Lucy and Ethel."

"Lucy and Ethel? And?" Darcy waved a hand for him to continue. "Spill it. There's got to be a story there."

So many people wanted to talk about themselves, he never had trouble keeping his own life closed away by asking the questions. Few pushed past his lifelong reserve.

Certainly no one since Eva.