Kathleen drained her coffee to give herself time to phrase a response. How could she have let Andrew's name slip? It had to be all the research and paperwork on crashes that brought Andrew to mind. With her emotions stirred into an uncontrollable swirl, she'd slipped.
She didn't hide the fact that she'd been married. However, once she'd reclaimed her maiden name, her colossal mistake wasn't something she enjoyed discussing. She'd allowed herself to relax her guard and enjoy the Tanner Bennett everyone else knew. Big mistake. One she planned to rectify. "A lot of people have been married."
"Not me."
An opening for a subject change and she intended to leap all over it. "How come?"
"Uh-uh. You first." His feet braced against the floorboards as if driving the car—or flying a plane. "You were married to a fighter pilot?"
Given the thrust of Tanner's determined jaw, Kathleen knew there wasn't a chance she could dodge his questions. Even in the passenger side, he drove in theory. This guy didn't give up control with ease or grace.
Better to keep her answers simple and factual, then move on to safer discussions like leadership traits in Alexander the Great. "Yes. For two years.">"We have to get along for the next few weeks. We can't rip each other's head off whenever hormones kick in. If we're fighting all the time, we'll never figure out what went wrong with that plane."
Her mind churned through his words. Fighting all the time equaled turned on all the time.
He was turned on by her all the time? She definitely didn't need to know that. "All right. Truce."
"We'll start fresh."
She nodded. "Sounds good."
"No more snapping and firing up our hormones."
"Right."
His arms crossed over his chest. "I'll start by apologizing for whatever I did to make you pout."
Starch crept right back into her spine. "I don't pout."
"O'Connell, that counts as a snap." A dimple creased one cheek. "Breaking the rules already."
"Who says you get to decide all the rules, Captain Hotshot Pilot? I'm the rule expert. Remember?" His smile deepened, damn him, and she stomped her foot. "And I do not pout!"
Creases fanned from his eyes as a suspicious light twinkled. "Turning you on that much, am I?"
She almost shot into the car and drove off without the conceited lug. Then the twinkle turned so outrageously mischievous, her anger drained away. "You're teasing me."
He shrugged, but she recognized the playful Tanner from the airport, the lighthearted Tanner who made everyone smile. He was treating her like one of the guys.
Well, not exactly the way he would treat the guys, but he was joking with her in his own infuriating way.
A smile tugged at her cheeks, laughter tickling her mouth and finally bubbling free.
Tanner's low chuckles joined hers. "Time to lay down our arms and declare a cease-fire. I must say, Captain O'Connell, you've been a worthy adversary."
"You're a formidable opponent yourself, Captain Bennett."
"For a hotshot pilot."
She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the next laugh. "Did I really stamp my foot?"
"Not that I saw."
"Very noble of you."
"All in the interest of no more snapping."
No more arguing. No more sparks. No more heat to suppress and try to ignore.