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Aine patted his arm. “Nothing. He’s just worried that he’s too old for me.”
“Oh. Well…he is.”
She and Ava laughed when Razor walked away.
—:—
“Thanks for the lift,” said Dutch, opening the car door for Alegria.
“No problem. Although I didn’t realize how tight the back seat was.”
“Not a problem,” said Dutch, folding himself into a seat made for someone a quarter of his size.
“How are you doing?” he asked Alegria when she sat in the front seat.
“Okay. The pain meds should kick in soon.”
“Taking the train wasn’t the best idea. We should’ve just driven,” Dutch said from where he sat sideways in the back.
These two looked as miserable as Striker felt after his conversation with Aine.
“The house isn’t too far from here.”
“We’ve been there,” Alegria told him. Snapped at him was more accurate.
“Alegria,” Dutch murmured from the back seat.
Striker looked over, unable to read anything but tension on her face. Despite the fact they’d been on many missions together, he didn’t know the woman that well.
She, Dutch, and Mantis were all former Air Force officers, a branch of the military that got plenty of ribbing for being the pampered set.
The truth was, Alegria and Mantis had flown sorties resulting in the deaths of some of the worst terrorists in the world, and those missions hadn’t been danger-free.
Striker had a hell of a lot of respect for the men and women who flew any kind of fighter jet, regardless of military branch.
Onyx, the only other pilot on the K19 team, had served in the Marine Corps like most of the partners had, flying F/A 18 Hornets. While those planes were being replaced by the Lightning II, F-35 Joint Strike Fighter, the Hornets had long provided fighter escort, enemy defenses suppression, air control, reconnaissance, and close air support of Marines on the ground.
K19 was mighty lucky to have all three of them on their team.
The drive back to Cambria was quiet since neither Alegria nor Dutch seemed to be in the mood to talk. Striker didn’t mind, though. It gave him time to think about what he’d said to Aine.
He’d wanted her to be aware of his age, given he was fifteen years her senior. That was it. If she ever decided she didn’t want to spend her time with an old fart, he wanted her to know that he’d understand. That had somehow turned into her asking if she was too inexperienced for him.
Their first night together had been magical as far as he was concerned. That she would think it was anything less than that, baffled him.
They were seated at the table in the front window of the Sea Chest, so they could look out at the moon’s light on the ocean while they ate.
“This place is fantastic,” he said between bites of the freshest halibut he’d ever eaten.
“I agree, but I’m so full I can’t finish.”
They’d started out with a dozen oyster
s, followed by clam chowder, sourdough bread, and their entrées.
Aine ordered a calamari steak served abalone-style, which Striker was all too happy to finish for her.
“Cheers,” he said, toasting her with a twenty-year tawny port. “Here’s to many more dinners shared by the light of the moon.”
