Taking Cover (Wingmen Warriors 2)

Tanner shrugged off the depressing image and allowed himself an unreserved glance at Kathleen for distraction. Her tourist getup a thing of the past, she wore her flight suit, those fire-red strands tucked away in her regular braid.

An image of her in the airport sneaked into his thoughts as she did too often lately. His mind's eye remembered her tentative smile when she'd passed him the pocket protector full of pens.

She didn't smile often, something he hadn't noticed before. How did she blow off the steam that accompanied her high-pressure job? She needed to smile more often.

Tanner knocked back the dregs of his coffee, then smiled, lifting his empty cup. "A good omen."

"What?" She replaced her disposable cup, before readjusting her hands on the steering wheel. Positioning at precisely ten o'clock and two o'clock, of course.

He suppressed a grin at her manual-perfect driving. He understood her better now, and understanding the opponent gave him an edge. "We both like coffee. The sun's shining. All omens that it's going to be a kick-butt day."

"Omens." She gave a decidedly unladylike snort. "I'm more of a make-your-own-luck kind of person."

Of course she was, being a scientist. It made sense. Maybe he needed to help her understand more about the flyer mind-set as well. The sun seemed to wink in agreement. Or could that be a mocking gleam?

"Flyers are superstitious. We hang on to good luck charms, perform all sorts of rituals before we fly. Rabbits' feet, lucky coins, a bar coaster. Our pockets rattle with the stuff. One guy I know is convinced if he eats sardines and crackers for breakfast before a flight he won't get air sick."

She shot him a wry smile. "Alert the AMA." The wind snagged at her hair, finally freeing a lone strand. "And his reasoning behind this?"

"On his first training flight he was the only one in his class not to hurl. Now he's certain it was because of the sardines he ate that morning. It's become a mental thing. You can be sure that if he doesn't eat those sardines, he'll be puking his guts out by air-to-air refueling."

She winced, laughing softly. "Lovely."

The stray lock streamed across her face, catching on her mouth.

Tanner trained his eyes on a cactus so he wouldn't surrender to the temptation to smooth back her hair. "Don't diss the mojo, lady. We've seen it go bad for no reason too often not to hang with those traditions."

"Okay, so you know a few superstitious guys. You find superstitious people in any walk of life." She hooked the strand behind her ear.

Tanner relaxed in his seat, temptation safely tucked away for the moment. "Not this many. Have you noticed we always get into the plane on the left? Even if there's also a door on the right side, we still only use the left one. Fighter planes have the ladder rolled up to their left."

"There has to be a logical reason."

Figures his scientist partner would say that. "We think it's a carryover from cavalry days since you always mount a horse from the left, but we're not certain. Not a chance will anyone test it by breaking the tradition. Those rituals offer reassurance. Confidence in the air is everything."

Her eyes distant, Kathleen scrunched her nose, those few freckles more apparent in the morning sun. "Funny, I watched Andrew climb into that fighter at least a hundred times, and I never gave the left-side thing a thought."

Jealousy launched an ambush, downing Tanner when he least expected it. "Andrew?"

Kathleen's knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. "My ex-husband."

Ex-husband? So much for omens and knowing his opponent, good signs and a great day. Tanner could have sworn his mojo rode the morning breeze right out the window. "You were married?"

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."

"What happened?"