Grayson's Surrender (Wingmen Warriors 1)

Seconds later the commander leaped into a truck. Sirens blaring, it followed the fire trucks past the line of parked planes next to the lengthy runway.

As quickly as that, her world rocked.

Lori felt a hand on her shoulder and startled. She found Gray's father standing behind her, Magda still on his shoulders jingling Angela's bracelet.

"He'll be fine, Lori." Dave held his wife's hand, her face pale but in control. "Rapid dees happen all the time. The trucks, the noise, it's all procedure. Since he's only twenty-five miles out, he'll be here in minutes. Probably landing in less than five. Should be breaking the horizon right about … now."

Like magic, a speck appeared.

Lori exhaled. She pulled the fragmented pieces of her reason together. What right did she have to accept comfort, anyway? She wasn't anyone to Gray, not like his parents beside her. And Julia had a husband to worry about.

That didn't stop Lori's heart from punching her rib cage or her hands from shaking.

Julia's hand fluttered to rest on Lori's arm. "Really, thank goodness it's just a rapid dee. Those can be absolutely nothing big."

Lori looked around at the fire trucks positioned along the runway. If this was "nothing" she didn't want to consider "something." How could they all be so blasé?

The plane roared closer, growing larger. She started breathing again. Her pulse only raced double time now, not too bad.

Julia laughed a slight wobble. "I remember once when Lance came home and told me—"

Angela cleared her throat, shooting a pointed look Lori's way. "Save that one for another time, dear."

"Ooops, sorry, just nervous chatter." Julia clutched the champagne bottle to her stomach. "We'll all laugh at the party."

Of course they would. She could always count on Gray for a laugh, and in minutes he would surely step from that plane as carefree as ever. "I'm fine. Dave, do you want to pass me Magda?"

"Let her stay."

Lori held Magda's foot, anyway, needing the comfort of contact. Eyes trained upward, Lori watched the plane near, slow, touch down.

Relief turned her limbs to oatmeal. Thank God she wasn't holding Magda because she surely would have dropped her.

Engines whined as the aircraft slowed, fire trucks pacing alongside. The cargo plane turned, heading toward them.

Dave nodded. "That's good."

"What?"

"If it was a serious emergency, they would have stopped on the runway. But they're still coming over. That's good. Probably nothing more than a loose seal."

Swallowing twice, Lori tried to moisten her gritty mouth. The lumbering aircraft neared. She could even see Gray through the window, his headset on as he parked the plane.

Lori inhaled deeply, the exhaust-tinged air stinging her lungs with each gasp. This was nothing, she reminded herself. Just a little in-flight emergency, practically an everyday occurrence for him.

She would have a heart attack by the end of the week. Handling a crisis had always been her strength. Why was she freaking out now?

Because she was helpless. Out of control. There was nothing she could do in a situation like this, and she needed control over her life after so many years of chaos.

The side hatch door opened. A firefighter in his silver fire suit waited, firehose poised and ready.

One at a time crew members ambled down the few steps onto the runway. Burly Bronco. Too-pretty-for-his-own-good Lancelot, Steady Tag.

Finally Grayson.

His smile as bright as the sun glinting off his airplane, he loped down the stairs.

"Congratulations, Major Clark," the firefighter shouted. "And farewell!"