Page 33 of The Pilot

“Sounds good. Go get settled. I’ll meet you at the couch.”

“It’s a date,” she quipped with a smile.

The words echoed in his head as Linc prepared their drinks in the kitchen, tea for her, hot chocolate for him. A date. Things between them weren’t the usual way couples got to know each other. They were doing things backward. Moving in together, then learning more about each other. But he didn’t hate it.

As far as he was concerned, this was a date. Pretty much their first one. Unconventional though it might be.

By the time he got back to the living area, Harper was standing next to one of the oversize chairs with a blanket . . . and a small questioning smile on her face. “Is it okay if we share? It’s a little chilly in here tonight.”

It might’ve been an excuse, but Linc didn’t mind. He nodded and put their drinks on the table next to the chair, then sat. Harper settled herself on his lap and covered them with the blanket. Linc handed her the mug of tea, then grabbed the remote with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around the woman in his lap.

Soon, they were relaxed against the cushions and engrossed in a comedy series that had gotten great reviews on one of the streaming apps.

The last thing Linc was aware of was the feel of Harper’s hair against his chin as she snuggled closer. He fell into a deep, dreamless sleep for the first time in years.

Chapter Seven

Linc couldn’t stop thinking about Thursday night as he and Kash lay on the warm hood of his SUV, watching planes take off and land at the small airstrip near Rockville the Saturday after Thanksgiving.

He’d learned the trick about using the engine’s residual heat to stay warm from his dad. When he’d take him to do exactly what they were doing now, watching the planes. The hood would eventually cool down, but when it did, he’d simply get up, start the engine, and leave it running for ten minutes or so.

Thanksgiving night, he’d fallen asleep with Harper draped over him. He’d woken up at three thirty-two in the morning, with Harper still sound asleep in his lap. Some people wouldn’t think that was anything special, but for Linc, it was everything. He didn’t remember any of his dreams. Hell, he didn’t think he’d had any dreams.

Getting five solid hours of sleep was unheard of for him. He wasn’t sure if Harper was a miracle worker, or if he’d just been so exhausted that his body had literally shut down.

He didn’t think it was the latter, because there’d been times in the past when he’d been just as exhausted and still woken up with nightmares after only an hour of rest.

So that left Harper as the reason he was able to sleep. Really sleep.

He’d sat in that chair, holding her for another two hours, until she began to stir. Two hours that he’d usually spend pacing, or rehashing the events that had led to him being chaptered out of the Air Force.

She’d been adorable upon waking. Groggy and confused about where she was, then mortified that she’d slept on top of him all night. But Linc refused to let her dwell on it.

All day Friday, he’d felt energized. As if he could take on the world. They’d done just as Harper had suggested. Went out to see a movie, then came home and played games, cooked, read books, and just enjoyed spending time together.

Linc had hoped to repeat the night before, but Harper went upstairs to bed the same time as Kash. She was working today, and had wanted a decent night’s sleep before dealing with the craziness of the holiday shopping season.

If Linc had any doubt that Harper was the reason he’d actually slept—and slept well, at that—it was confirmed when he’d woken up sweaty, with his heart racing, only ninety minutes after going to bed. He’d done everything he could think of to get back to sleep, but it was no use. He’d ended up pacing the house, trying to outrun his demons . . . with no luck.

As a result, he was grumpy and kind of a jerk when Harper made her way downstairs this morning. He felt bad now, but at the time, in some warped way of thinking, he’d blamed her for his shit night. It wasn’t her fault, not in the least, but he’d been short with her anyway, not saying much before she’d headed out the door.

After Kash had come downstairs and asked if they were still going to the airfield, Linc almost said no, that something had come up. But he didn’t want to lie to the boy, and because Kash was so excited about the outing, it was impossible to say no to him.

So here they were. Lying on the hood of his SUV, watching planes take off and land in the chilly November air, while memories assaulted Linc. Memories of the boy he used to be. Of lying just like this with his dad, talking about his future, what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go, of how he wanted to save the world.

There was no doubt that he’d done some heroic things, had saved lives, had taken lives as well. Linc was proud of his service to his country. And it was funny how he’d ended up full circle. Back here in Maine, doing exactly what he’d done so many years ago, with another boy who was eager to grow up. To make a difference in the world.

He had no doubt that Kash would make those differences too. Not in the way Linc had, by joining the military, but with his brain. His smarts. He was going to find new planets, maybe even discover sentient life somewhere far beyond their skies.

They’d talked about nothing in particular for a while, the weather, the food they’d had at Thanksgiving, Zach’s lobster shack, The Lobster Buoy, and about the crate race that Kash had won.

There was a break in planes coming and going, and Linc figured this was as good a time as any to bring up the topic he very much wanted to talk about.

“How’s school going?”

“Fine,” Kash said quickly. Almost too quickly. “Science is fun. I don’t mind math, but English . . . yuck. And art feels like a waste of time. I suck at it, and it’s not making me a more well-rounded individual or any of that crap that people say it should.”

Linc couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Well, all you have to do is pass. You don’t have to get an A.”