Wind rustled pine needles from the trees overhead and lifted her hair while she chewed her lip and finally released the kissable fullness, slowly. "Next time."
There would be a next time.
Yes.
He covered her hand with his on the open door. "No new memories today?"
"Spotty stuff, mostly of when you and I talked." She scuffed her shoe through the dead grass, drawing his attention to her jean-clad legs—as if he needed an excuse. "I, uh, watched you walk away and meet up with two other guys."
Vic Jansen and Gary Owens's sponsor, on their way to a support meeting for families of addicts, not just alcoholics, but a catchall group. He couldn't tell her that, though, without breaking confidence. "Do you remember anything else?"
"Not really. It never works when I want it too much." Her gray eyes clouded, seeming wider when she didn't blink, just studied him until he wondered if they were still discussing lost hours a week ago.
"Then let's stop forcing the issue." He circled a finger along Minnie, then around to Nikki's wrist. "You said relaxing helps, so just let things happen."
Although a relaxed Nikki might be more temptation than he could handle.
"Okay, I have a question that's really been plaguing me." Her eyebrows pinched together with serious intensity that set him on edge.
"Sure, go ahead."
She tipped her head to the side, her hair teasing along his wrist. "Why haven't you named your boat yet?"
Tension rode out along his laugh. Relax. Right. Linking his fingers with hers, he slid their hands off the door into a true clasp rather than the sort-of-resting-here deal.
Tugging her forward, he reached past to close her door. "Naming a boat is like naming a new aviator."
"What do you mean?" She kept her hand in his.
Encouraging.
Arousing.
And so damn right he didn't let go.
"Well, for example, Lieutenant Avery is bucking for a call sign to replace Bambi, but we've got to wait for the watershed event."
"Like your flaming Dr Pepper moment when you scorched your mustache in a bar."
Now there was a splash of reality. "Exactly. A watershed event that sums up a person."
As if sensing his darkening mood, she stepped away even if she didn't release his hand. "I imagine you need to get back to the squadron."
"I've got another minute." He should have returned a half hour ago to tackle rewrites on performance reports and promotion recommendations, review and sign check-ride forms, all before the Wing Staff meeting at fifteen hundred.
He wasn't sure what he was doing standing here with Nikki. Even if he could see his way clear to risking a more serious relationship, he was scared spitless of marriage, and he couldn't even wrap his head around the whole father-kid deal. He could almost hear Vic Jansen laughing at him again since he kept gravitating right back to commitment thoughts.
One day at a time.
"Would you like to go boating again this weekend? Your dad will be home to look after your mom." And holy hell, he would somehow have to explain to J. T. Price why he was seeing the man's daughter when the guy expressly didn't want flyboys for his baby girl. No doubt, Ivy League, officer fly-boys would fall even lower down the list for the practical values of the crusty chief master sergeant.
Carson stroked his missing mustache. He would just have to get the guy alone and ease the news into the conversation.
They had a mutual respect for each other from shared crew experiences and POW hell.
"Boating?" Nikki asked, bringing him back to the moment.
Before he worried about talking to J.T., Nikki needed to agree.