Tara. His sister who'd been murdered in a carjacking attack. Kathleen didn't know all the details, but she'd been there firsthand to witness the aftermath for Tanner. He hadn't worn sunglasses over his eyes in those days.
Clearing his throat, Tanner pulled his elbow back in the car. "We always knew we were loved, but it was hard for Mom going it alone. If I ever get married, I need to be sure it's forever, for my wife, for the kids."
Tanner with kids, now there was an image. Too easily she could see the big playful lug with a little girl on his back and a chubby-cheeked baby crooked in one arm like a football. She and Andrew had talked about children near the end. The conversation hadn't gone well at all. "So you break off a relationship when you realize it isn't going anywhere?"
Rather than just continuing to use the woman for sex as Andrew had done.
There was a certain amount of honor in Tanner's method, at least. It still galled the hell out of her that her ex had slept with her the night before he'd served her with divorce papers.
Tanner shrugged. "I've always thought I should treat women with the same respect I would want some guy to show my mom and my sister."
Kathleen kept her eyes on the road, not that it helped. The sincerity of his words, the inherent honor, twined around her.
Scared the starch right out of her flight suit.
Almost against her will, she whispered, "You're a nice guy, Tanner Bennett."
Slowly he stuck his head out the window, looked left and right.
"Tanner? Is something wrong?"
He ducked his head back inside and grinned. "You paid me a compliment. I'm just checking for an eclipse or some other natural wonder. Maybe a bolt of lightning to strike the car."
Apparently, heavy discussions had been canceled, and she exhaled her relief. Tanner's good mood was infectious. She couldn't stop her answering smile. "Those superstitions again. I called you nice. I didn't submit your name for sainthood."
His low chuckle rumbled along the breeze. "There's the O'Connell I know and admire." His laughter faded. He swept aside a strand of hair from her jaw. "You know, Kathleen, just because flyers are alike in some ways, doesn't mean they're all scumbags like your ex."
The easy camaraderie faded with his laughter, his words. His touch.
She never should have told him about Andrew. With what could be weeks left to spend together, she needed to keep her guard up.
Intellectually she understood what Tanner said about flyers being different, but maybe she harbored a few superstitions after all. Because seasoned soldier that she was, she still couldn't find the courage to test her luck on that one.
Chapter 6
Tanner watched Kathleen's pinky tap the turn signal as they neared the Palmdale Testing Facility. He'd watched her a thousand times before, wanted her, admired her, been mad as hell at her. But he'd never been so confused.
She'd been married. It shouldn't surprise him. Of course she would have had a life during the nine years after she'd graduated and before she'd been stationed in Charleston.
Kathleen had been married. No big deal.
Yet, it changed something—something he couldn't quite target. He'd carried an image of her for years, had grown comfortable with that, and now it had changed.
He'd always seen her as a solitary woman. She dated, but quietly and nothing serious. Apparently, she'd been serious once. Tanner couldn't help but wonder about the man who'd gotten through to Kathleen O'Connell.
A fighter pilot Tanner swallowed a curse. Couldn't she have at least chosen a crew dog?
Rivalry between the different airframes was common. Bomber, fighter, cargo aviators—they all collected reasons why the others were bottom feeders.
Camaraderie within the unit was important. He'd thought Kathleen was one of them, a flight surgeon for the cargo guys. Maybe that was what had his shorts in a knot, her momentary defection to the other side. Yeah, that was what had him frowning.
Not the thought of some other guy dragging down the zipper on Kathleen's flight suit.
Tanner bit back another curse. They'd definitely spent too much time alone together. He needed distance. Soon.
The investigation was too important. To some it might seem like a simple case of an airlift drop gone bad. No fatalities. But it was more than that to him. A certain amount of Air Force honor rode on this. He'd heard the whispers of crew cover-ups. Let the press get ahold of that and morale would self-destruct.
Looming ahead was the factory, a sprawling lone structure at the end of a dirt road. Cars filled the parking lot. The main building towered, a warehouse with gleaming white siding and metal framing. Brick add-ons fingered off to the sides, three stories tall with office windows along the top floor. The warehouse, located twenty miles from the base, ran tests on minor parts subcontracted out by major manufacturers.