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A half smile tipped a dimple into Max’s cheek. “None taken.”
“Of course, now I can’t even fly in earthquake relief supplies for three days. My missions will have to be taken on by someone else. Way to make a big impression as the new co around the squadron.”
Max turned solemn eyes her way. “The crew’s respect for you seems rock solid.”
His sure tone bolstered her. Typical for the guy—minimal words, maximum punch.
“I hope so. Trust in the air is everything, and I need to know they trust me to hold up my end flying. That I’m a wingman to be counted on.”
Pausing mid-ramble, Darcy glanced over at Max. This man had a way of making her babble on about herself and things she didn’t really want to talk about anyway. She could almost see Alicia shooting her a mocking yawn symbol. “What about you? Brothers? Sisters? Red-brick, middle-class America upbringing?”
He sat silently for so long she thought he might not answer. Had she bored him to sleep after all? And if she climbed right over to him, would that stir him?
Or was he awake and she’d pushed this silent man too far?
Max shifted in his chair, eyes still half-open. “Only child. My old man was active duty—a Navy Captain. My mother and I followed him around the world.”
Darcy thought of her own mother, a woman she didn’t even remember except from pictures, since she’d died of an aneurysm twenty years ago. Would her mother have been able to put the kidnapping into a sharper focus? Darcy shrugged off the notion. She was doing just fine on her own. “So you get your love for the water from your father.”
A furrow creased his brow. “I guess so. Although he would probably choke on his commission to hear we have anything in common. I haven’t been the ideal son.”
With a few clipped sentences Max relayed much—a veritable share-fest for such a closemouthed man. A heady rush of success filled her.
She gestured to his swim trunks. “Ah, come on. I’m sure he loves pineapples.”
Max snorted.
She wanted to see his smile and bring back the rare chattiness she’d only just begun to enjoy with him. “I’ll bet your clothes made for some interesting times around your house.”
His eyes slid from the horizon. A surprise spark of laughter lit the edges of a smile. “And I’ve become conservative in my old age.”
Their laughs twined. She wanted to twine a lot more with this guy. The common bond in their upbringing only made him tougher to resist. Chitchat wasn’t helping. She needed distance fast before she crawled across the deck and into his arms again.
Darcy knew just the question guaranteed to chill the heat humming through her. “So, Max, what’s a marine biologist with a penchant for wild dive shorts doing packing a Glock 29 on my airplane?”
* * *
Tension ripped through Max. His every muscle tightened with a reminder to keep his guard up around this woman. He should have kept his yap shut. Instead, he’d thought it would be safe to spill a few truths about his past to relax her.
Darcy Renshaw was about as far from safe and relaxing as a man could get.
He’d messed up and lost focus. Now he had to haul himself out of the mess and protect his cover. “My work takes me all around the world, some parts not as safe as others. I always carry a weapon.”
Her eyes showered sparks his way. “You’re supposed to declare that weapon before setting foot on any aircraft.” She swung her legs over the side of the lounger and sat upright to pin him with an accusing glare. “I could have you thrown in jail.”
Now there was an image to tempt a man—Darcy slapping cuffs on him while wearing her skimpy ribbed underwear. “I did declare it. To Daniel Baker.” Max stabbed a finger toward her injured leg. “Now put your foot back up or I’ll have Doc Clark lockyouup in the infirmary.”
She didn’t budge. “Why Crusty?”
“He’s the senior pilot.”
Max watched her mull that over until the will to argue seeped out of her set shoulders. A momentary retreat, no doubt, but welcome.
“Okay, then.” She reclined back and swung her legs onto the lounger. “Next time, I’d advise telling all the aircrew or you could land yourself in trouble.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
How angry would she be if she found out the rest of what had been kept from her? She made it clear she didn’t appreciate back-seat roles, but life didn’t always offer choices. He had a job to do and a woman to protect. And he didn’t intend to let her wander off alone into the jungle to face her childhood ghosts and present day “critters.” Whether she wanted it or not, this woman had his protection.
