Hadn't made a bit of difference to Mako, but then, flight crews lived to razz each other.
They played hard, joked hard, lived hard, because you never knew when the missile hit was a second away. A reality he understood well from that flight in Rubistan—a subject guaranteed to sink his mood into opaque territory.
And he still didn't know what he planned to do with the rest of his life. At least he had a firm plan for the next two weeks. Albeit, an increasingly frustrating one.
The kiss the night before only proved the obvious. He was weak as hell around this woman. A vulnerable look from her, combined with honest to God caring questions and he was ready to jump her bones. He'd barely made it into the car.
An hour later, gear stowed in the trunk, he pulled off onto the two-lane road leading to Paige's house. At least he would be flying with her brother today, making rounds and taking any emergency calls.
He slowed behind the mail carrier as the school bus chugged past, clearing the driveway
—where Kirstie still stood holding her mother's hand. What was up with that?
Bo turned onto the dirt driveway, cruising to a stop under what was quickly becoming his least favorite tree in the state. He stepped out of the car and popped the trunk to unload his gear. "No school for you today, Cupcake? Are you sick?"
Kirstie stayed mute and stepped closer to her mother's leg.
Paige tugged her around in front and looped both arms around Kirstie, mother and daughter a mirror image of blond hair, glasses and wide eyes. "We thought it might be better if one of us drives her for a while."
Safer.
What was wrong with the world that the kid couldn't ride the bus with her friends?
"Going with Mom's cool. You probably get to sleep later, huh?"
"Nope." Kirstie watched him unload with obvious resentment.
Hey, kids always liked him. He was a pal. Tossing aside his military-green duffel, he knelt in front of her. "How about I take you up for a ride in the plane after we're done with work today?"
Kirstie squinted, her resentment double blaring. Yeah, kid, you're gonna have to pick.
Carry the grudge—whatever the hell the reason—or get your flight. Standing, he backed up to give her space, the seed planted. "Think about it while you're at school and we can talk more later."
Paige's pretty lips mouthed, "Thank you." Then she leaned to face her daughter. "Run and get your lunch box off the counter, punkin, or we're going to be late."
After the kid sprinted up the stairs and out of sight, Paige turned back toward him, the muggy wind playing with her hair that refused to stay constrained in a red rubber band.
Memories of their kiss from the day before, a kiss they'd never been alone long enough to discuss, hung in the air between them. Better to face it head-on and get the subject past.
Paige toyed with a drooping branch overhead. "About that kiss—"
"—that we shouldn't—" He stopped. "What?"
She waved for him to continue. "You first."
"No, you go ahead."
"Really, I'd rather hear what you have to say."
She deserved his honesty. Bo flattened a hand to the roughened bark. "I was going to say that we shouldn't spend time alone together, well, other than in the plane, of course."
"So the haystack offer has been rescinded?"
She had to be kidding. Please, sweet Lord, let her be joking. "Were you seriously thinking about it?"
Paige scuffed the toe of her tennis shoe through the mud. "Tough to think about anything else with you around."
"You were actually considering an affair with me while I'm here? Under this roof? With your brother lurking behind every corner? Forget the whole damn danger factor of him taking a shotgun to me, I owe him the common courtesy of not—" He thumped himself on the forehead. A guy wanted to do the right thing and then the fates had to twist it all around to bite him on the butt. "Are you trying to make me crazy?"