Page 1 of Blue Moon

Chapter 1

Sawyer

“Sawyer, get your ass in here.”

I stumbled into the office, my head still pounding from last night’s liquor binge. We’d had one of our rare nights off from our insanely packed air show schedule. I’d planned to spend the day sleeping in late at my luxurious hotel suite, golfing at the Presidio, and feasting on dim sum in Chinatown. Hell, maybe I’d even sample all the different types of chocolate down at Ghirardelli Square. Better yet, I’d taste a local woman. But instead, I’d been summoned to base.

I removed my sunglasses and could see my commanding officer Lt. Beckett Daly glaring at me. Puzzled, I stared at his scrunched brow and flared nostrils. Fuck, he was about to hand me my ass, and I didn’t have a clue why.

After all, I was the best pilot in the Marine Corps.

But my skills in the air didn’t matter. Apparently, I’d royally fucked something up down here on the ground. Again. Maybe one of the chicks I’d hooked up with during our last stop was an admiral’s daughter.

Beck just stared at me. Clearly, he wanted me to confess to a crime, but since I didn’t know what I’d done, I deflected.

“What’s up, man? Congratulations on your engagement again. Tell you what—I’ll do your reports today. Go pamper your fiancée.”

Beck scowled. “I wish I could, but instead of spoiling her all day, the brass called me at zero six hundred and gave me orders to come in and deal with your shenanigans. Do you mind explaining what this is?”

He thrust his phone at me and showed me a news article. A local television station had mapped out my flight path during practice yesterday.

A flight path in the shape of a dick, complete with balls. A rather large set, I might add.

I laughed it off. “What’s the problem? Fucking liberal press. We’re pilots—we’re supposed to be cocky. Haven’t they seen Top Gun?”

A vein in Beck’s neck bulged, and I was almost certain it would pop.

“Are you high? We’re Blue Angels—our job is to recruit and do public relations for the Navy and your beloved Marine Corps. Your stunt was offensive and disrespectful. The command is opening an investigation.”

“Fine. Investigate. I’m guilty. It’s not like they’ll replace me. I’m the only Marine on the squadron. You Navy men are too sensitive.” I was a motherfucking Marine. Although technically, the Marines were a Department of the Navy, which we jarheads liked to call “the men’s department.”

“You’re an excellent pilot Sawyer, but you’re also a world-class asshole. Do you honestly think women want tolook up into the sky and see a giant penis? Especially in this day and age of unsolicited dick pics and toxic masculinity? Can you even see why this is wrong?”

Fuck Beck and his politically correct bullshit. I had better things to do today than listen to him rattle on and on. The only way to get him to shut up would be for me to apologize.

“I’m sorry. What’s my punishment?”

Beck tossed me the Key Influencer roster. “You know what you have to do.”

Fuck no. Anything but that. “If that’s what you want, you can forget it. I’m not taking another one of those vapid, fame-hungry media types up in my plane. I’ll write your admin reports for a month, no questions asked. I’ll clean your jet and gear. But I won’t do that.”

The Blue Angels regularly allowed news anchors, local celebrities, and other narcissists to fly around with us on media day. The other pilots didn’t mind doing it so I would trade them duties. Media day was a complete nightmare. The last reporter I took up puked all over me when I did a simple inverting trick. And the woman I took before her screamed in my ear the entire trip.

I had to stifle a grin when I thought about her shrieks. “Slow down! Stop! Are you trying to kill me? You’re going too fast!”

What could I say? I had the need for speed.

My plane was my temple—there was no room for a wingman.

“I’m not asking you, Sawyer; I’m giving you a direct order.” Beck shoved a piece of paper in front of me with a picture attached of a pretty woman with long black hair. She had a dazzling smile and wore a formal ballgown with a shiny sash that read Miss Marin County.

Great. A fucking beauty queen. Sure, she was attractive, but beautiful like a museum piece—looked nice from a distance but too fragile to touch. Definitely not my type. Ladies with proper manners and good upbringings held no appeal for me. I liked my women like I liked my planes—fast, dangerous, and ready to take off and go down on cue.

“Fuck no, Beck. A pageant girl? I’d rather take some old veteran who wants to relive his glory days. Who else you got?”

“We had a veteran on the list, but Declan already claimed him. And I’m taking up the reporter. You don’t have a choice. And she’s not just a pageant girl, she’s an influencer with a huge social media presence. She’s documenting a photo series on the Blue Angels. It’s one flight, Sawyer. Surely you can be a gentleman for an hour. Then, you can go back to being a jerk.”

Man, Beck really hated my guts. He was probably just jealous of my lifestyle. Beck was a family man and his idea of a hot date night was singing nursery rhymes to his baby daughter.