Her baby-blues eyes went wide. “Did you just insult me?”
“You insulted me first.”
“Well, that’s mature.”
“More and more in common by the second.”
That spurred a laugh from her, something he enjoyed doing more and more by the hour, enough that it took his mind off his legs for the moment.
“Okay, fine. I brought you along because, yes, it will be easier to work with the car dealer if you’re here.” She held up one finger, firmly. “I have absolutely no doubt that I could get the same deal on my own, but it would take longer and be far more exhausting than if I just let you two men do your grunt, grunt, bump chests, circle the fire, macho thing.”
“All right, now that I’m clear on my role.” He cleared his throat. “Ugh.”
“Perfect.” She gave him a regal nod. “Here are some examples of the car I’m looking for, with my hopeful price listed as well as my absolute top-dollar price.”
Nola passed him a flyer insert from the Saturday paper with three cars circled in red marker, with her notations alongside.
As they made their way to the dealer of her choice, he asked questions concerning loan lengths and payments until he had a firm grasp of what she wanted. He even did his best not to roll his eyes when she specified color—why was car color so important to women? Must be like the potpourri thing. And maybe somewhat like how he hated bargaining while on crutches.
Three haggling hours later, he’d landed the deal she wanted, closer to the wish price than the top-dollar price. All they needed was the bank okay to clear the loan and she could turn in the rental for her spiffy new convertible.
Damn, he felt as if he’d speared the wooly mammoth to haul back to the cave, and double damned if he hadn’t forgotten about his aching legs for more than thirty seconds. Not an evolved kind of thought by a long shot, and surely she would laugh and label it another “ugh” moment. Thing was, her laugh would spark another chest-thumping thrill of victory in him.
What was it about this woman? She could take care of herself, manage this on her own and yet here he sat, waiting to help her.
There was…something about her.
Something that made him want to share the Jacuzzi with her for more than sex, but with champagne and strawberries while her laughter rolled with the bubbles.>Roll over.
Rustle the sheets.
Too many memories stirred of sharing sheets with him.
She’d suspected his legs were bothering him and she’d wished she could offer a massage, but… They couldn’t go there, not without things leading further. She needed more time with him before she made a decision about that.
He’d ridden with her today to the base, checked in with the clinic about his rehab and then detailed his own plans to check out her security.
Nola worked her boots against the rudders, slicing the planes wings through clouds. Another ten minutes and they would be on autopilot, so she soaked up these remaining seconds of control, power. Freedom. She loved to fly, had known it was her destiny since the instant she’d sat behind the controls for the first time. Sure she’d started out piloting because she wanted to prove as a woman she could equal any man… Now she flew because she couldn’t imagine not flying.
She and her ex-husband had met in flight school, had fallen hard and fast. Their relationship had been based on attraction and shared dreams…. Until Peter had washed out of flight school in the last month.
He’d been one of the lucky ones who could stay in the Air Force. Some who washed out of training didn’t even get to stay in the service. Peter hadn’t considered himself lucky at all. Losing his dream had changed him. He’d served four more years in the service at a desk job before putting in his papers.
Why was Peter so heavily on her mind today? Had to be because of having a man under her roof again, even if it was purely platonic.
Purely? That kiss had been anything but platonic. If the two of them were already traveling this far and fast down memory lane, they wouldn’t last too much longer without making their way to the end of the map. Had this been her reason for tracking him down? She’d chosen him to be her last lover before the operation, did she want him to be her first after surgery, as well?
That scared her witless because the intent would have been subconscious and she liked to think she was making her own choices these days. And what did all of this have to do with her ex and him washing out of pilot training?
More of her flipping subconscious at work.
“What would you do if you couldn’t fly anymore?” The words fell out of her mouth of their own volition. Luckily, only her boss flying beside her would hear and not the crew in back.
“Who gave you the grumpies instead of bananas with your Cheerios?” Lieutenant Colonel Carson “Scorch” Hunt glanced up from checking the fuel display.
“Ha-ha. Very funny. Not.” Her hand clenched around the stick. She wished she could mask her feelings as well as the clouds hid the ground below. “I’m being serious.”
“Is there something wrong?” All humor vanished from his poster-boy-perfect face—she preferred craggy these days. “Oh damn. Is your cancer back?”