Explosive Alliance (Wingmen Warriors 9)

"No problem." He knelt to set a chock in front of the nose gear. "And thanks."

"No problem," she repeated.

She studied him through narrowed eyes as if she couldn't see him clearly, when he knew full well her new glasses should be working fine.

Leave. Leave. Leave, he nudged himself. Drop your sorry, horny ass into the rental car and stay away from this woman.

Wasn't Seth due back sometime soon? How long did it take to drive to McDonald's, feed a kid and drive back?

Hours, out here.

He definitely needed to finish up and hit the road. He'd made Paige smile more than once.

Her job obviously brought her happiness. The way she'd calmed the horse had been a mesmerizing sight. After securing the plane at Anderson's place, he'd jogged the mile over to the barn and found her...gentle voice soothing the spooked horse while she listened to the heart, lungs, stomach for punctured organs, like an EMS tech for animals.

All the while handling an animal that could crush her with one stray kick.

This confident woman could take care of herself. No doubt she had baggage to deal with from her husband, but who wouldn't? And she had more help handling it than many single mothers, thanks to her brother and cousin. So what was up with the restlessness chewing his hide?

She followed him around the nose of the plane, gripped the wing overhead and leaned, stretching her T-shirt taut across generous breasts. "Have you always wanted to be in the Air Force?"

In need of an outlet, he kicked a chock secure under a rear wheel with extra force. "I didn't know what I wanted to do growing up, other than I wanted to fly planes and buy myself some kick-ass toys."

"You mentioned growing up in an orphanage."

"From the time I was five. Yeah."

"The same age Kirstie was when she lost her father." She trailed him to the other side.

"That must have been difficult for—"

"Yeah. I guess so." He didn't want to discuss those days. He'd rather talk about the scars on his hands than the morning he'd walked into his mother's room to ask for a bowl of Frosted Flakes and found her— "After I got to St. Elizabeth's, I had it good, safe, was well fed and got lots of hugs from the nuns."

Last wheel secured. He was done. Time to leave. But his feet wouldn't move.

He leaned against the side of the Cessna and stared into pretty brown eyes that invited him to share. "But when you're seven and ten, even twelve, you don't recognize how important those things are. You want dumb-ass things like a bike no one else has ridden.

A batting helmet with your name stenciled on it. To make sure I could have everything on my list—and the list was long—I figured I had to go to college."

"Which is why you took an ROTC scholarship." She nudged her glasses straight with one pointer finger.

"There were other offers on the table, but the ROTC deal came with money, a chance to fly and the most kick-butt toys I'd ever imagined."

"How many years do you owe the Air Force for the scholarship?"

"I'm coming up on the end of my commitment to the Air Force."

"Are you staying in?"

"I don't know yet."

That stunned her quiet for a full five seconds of silence filled only with dogs barking in their kennels. "What would you do if you left the Air Force?"

"It's tough to imagine being grounded. I could fly for the airlines, or any number of other things like doctors without borders, FedEx even."

His mind winged to the looming deadline for deciding whether to stay in the military and take off the uniform for good. He'd met his commitment, given something back to society like the nuns had taught him. He'd enjoyed flying Paige around today, but he wasn't sure how he would feel about going a lifetime without any more high-stakes missions. Except, he also couldn't face seeing another military brother like Tag take a boot in the ribs for him.

He slammed the aft cargo door and reminded himself he didn't have to decide jack right now.