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I bite down on the cigar and eye her.
“You’re being weird,” she declares. “Weirder than usual.”
“What’s your point?” I ask around the cigar.
She huffs out a breath, slides off the edge of my desk and pulls her shoulders back, shoving her tits out at my eye level.
Ahh, Christ. She’s really trying to kill me.
“Whatever your problem is, take care of it before we head out.” She gives me one last, narrowed look then turns and walks out.
I drop back in my seat, head hitting the back of the chair, and sigh heavily.This is going to be the mission from hell.I can already feel it.
???
An hour later, I replay this morning’s events as I pack for the trip. I’m used to getting ready fast and traveling light. A couple of t-shirts, two pairs of cargo pants and a small shaving kit with basic essentials go into my duffel, and the suit for tomorrow’s dinner assignment goes into a light garment bag. I’m all about easy and no frills. Even before joining the military at 18, I always leaned toward no drama and uncomplicated.
My feelings toward Sailor, though, are quite complicated. Actually, they’re not– I want her, on a visceral level. Every atom in my body wants to fuck her. Hard and thoroughly until we both collapse from sheer exhaustion.
It’s the situation that’s complicated. Sai can’t stand me. We bicker non-stop and everyone else seems highly amused by it, which annoys the shit out of me. And, of course, we work together which makes it even more of a tangled mess.
“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.”
Whenever I find myself in a tough spot, I always mumble the Serenity Prayer. One of my former teammates turned to the bottle after we separated from the military and I went with him to a lot of AA meetings. For some reason, the prayer they would say before each meeting really stuck with me. I don’t know if it actually helps, and I’ve never been religious, but it must comfort me on some level.
Tossing the duffel bag over my shoulder and the garment bag over my arm, I lock my front door and get in the Slater Security black Range Rover. I offered to pick Sailor up, but she declined and said she’d meet me at the hangar.Fine, whatever, fuckit.The less time in her company, the better.
It doesn’t take long to get to the small airport where the Slater jet waits. When I park in the hangar and get out, Eric Finn is walking around the plane doing a preflight check.
“Hey, Finn,” I say and walk over. We shake hands and he grins.
“How’re you doing, Maddox? Where’s your Battle Angel?”
I glance down at my large G-Shock watch. “Should be here shortly.” The moment the words are out of my mouth, I see Sailor’s Toyota Prius quietly approaching. Her little red car reminds me of a sardine can.
“I’m almost done out here. Why don’t you two get settled in the cabin and we’ll be ready to take off soon.”
“Great. Thanks, Finn.” I walk over to Sailor’s car and pop the trunk as she slides out. Good thing I pack light because Sailor packs like she’s going on a month-long trip. “What the hell is in here?” I grumble, heaving the 50-pound suitcase out.
“Unlike you,” she says, glancing down at my simple outfit, “I need more than cargo pants and a t-shirt.”
I swear she looks a moment too long at my crotch and that throws me. Instead of commenting, I just make a noncommittal sound and wheel her luggage over to the plane, looking down to check my fly. It’s up.
Huh. That was weird.
“Hey, Deadly!” Finn calls cheerily. “Wheel’s up in 3 minutes, 52 seconds.”
“Hi, Finn,” she says and smiles.
Damn, it’s so pretty.I wish she’d direct that smile at me more often instead of everyone else.
We head up the stairs and, after I secure our luggage, I get settled in the large, leather seat across from Sailor. We both buckle up and a minute later, Finn appears. After he closes and locks the cabin door, he turns to us with a lopsided grin.
“Welcome aboard Night Stalker Express. Flight time is 4 hours, 55 minutes. The in-flight entertainment isn’t working so until Dash fixes the TV monitor, you have each other’s wonderful company to pass the time.”
Finn finds himself very amusing. He’s a typical, cocky flyboy, but I suppose he has a right to be. He’s the best goddamn pilot I’ve ever met. I feel more safe and secure knowing he’s up on the flight deck of any plane than I would be if we were flying on Air Force One with another pilot.
“Should be a smooth flight,” he adds. “See you in five hours and try not to kill each other.” With a wink, he heads to the cockpit and shuts the door behind him.
