Leif swallows hard. He knows about that disaster. You respect heartbreak. No questions asked.
“If that happens again, I don’t know what I’ll do,” I say. “Go ahead and make fun of me for having feelings,” I say. “I’m a giant pussy, but that’s my right. I haven’t fucked her yet because I want to make sure it’s not a mistake. That she’s not a mistake. The expectations come after you’ve slept with a woman. I’m trying to do this the right way. Instead of swinging my dick, I’m handing her flowers. This is my new start.” I turn toward the bay window in the great room to find Caroline pushing her bike up the driveway. The basket on the handlebars holds a large paper bag. “That’s why they sent me here,” I add. “Because I needed something different. And as fucked as I thought it was, I think they were right.” Leif’s boots are loud as he marches up next to me, looking at her, eyes narrowed, as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle.
She’s wearing a tank top and a pair of cropped overalls,hair falling over each shoulder in thick braids. Caroline looks like a fuckingPlayboycenterfold, country girl edition. “I see it. I do. I even understand what you’re saying about making sure you don’t blow your shit up again, but how the fuck do you know if it’s a mistake?”
I shake my head. “I have no fucking clue.” Risk assessment is something SEALs are good with. When you can’t assess something, like a relationship, it is confusing. It’s wild and carefree and stunning. It takes my breath away and jolts my entire being with a foreign rush of adrenaline.
Caroline props the bike up on the kickstand and grabs the bag. She doesn’t see us, not yet. Caroline is taking deep breaths. After a few seconds of that, she shields her eyes with one hand and glances up all three stories of the large house—taking stock. She licks her lips and smiles when she’s happy with her assessment.
Leif swallows hard, and I meet his gaze. “Good luck with that, then,” he says, voice cracking.
To this, I smile. “There’s no luck involved.”
“What then?” he asks, backing away.
“Intuition? Practice? Skill? A little bit of elbow grease?” Those things are required for any relationship, surely. I flex my biceps and wink at him. Leif winks back, keen to my joke.
Caroline walks right into the open front door. “Tahoe?” Her small voice echoes in the large space, causing a riot of emotions I’m not sure I want my buddy to see.
I shrug at my friend and call out, “In here.”
Caroline stops short, startled when she sees Leif. We came together in my truck, so she wasn’t expecting to see anyone else here. “Oh, hi,” she says, not meeting Leif’s eyes. “How are you doing?” I know it’s not a question I’m supposed to answer.
I smile at her manners at any cost. Even when she’s pissed. “How was your day?” I ask, walking up to kiss her on the cheek. She sighs a dreamy little sigh, and her breath tickles the side of my neck.
“It was good. Just getting ready for some military men to take over my airport tomorrow. What about you? How was your day?” She meets my gaze first and then Leif’s. “This place hasn’t changed a bit,” she adds, looking around the foyer. “I love it. I wish you saw it back in its heyday.”
My friend has the good sense to look a little embarrassed, and I know whatever he says next will be either an apology or something completely inappropriate. “Listen, Caroline. I want to apologize to you for the last time we spoke. My friends and I were out of line, and uh, everything is cleared up now. Obviously,” he warbles out, looking at me and then her again. “I didn’t mean to offend you in any way. I-I…” Leif trails off.
“My friend assumed wrong,” I helpfully explain, because watching Leif make amends is about as painful as you’d expect from a man who doesn’t care about anyone except himself.
Caroline taps her Converse sneaker on the floor and chews her bottom lip. “I want to get along with all ofyou guys,” she replies, voice light. “I have to be around you now, and we’re in a working relationship regardless of the things you say. Your forwardness was a shock, I admit, but I forgive you.” She goes on to tell him a story about the bed and breakfast to take the sting away from his embarrassing moment—erasing the awkwardness in mere seconds. It’s a trait that only some people have. It should be considered more of a skill than a trait—a finesse, if you will.
When she’s finished speaking, Leif asks a few questions, makes a joke about me, and vanishes out the door. I call out to him to take my bicycle out of the truck bed before he drives home. Clearing my throat, I turn to my beautiful guest. “You’re ready for us tomorrow then?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation on anything except the crackling flame that sizzles between our bodies every moment we are together. We’re alone, and as always, she’s this delicious mix of understated grace, dripping sex appeal, and tinged with that shroud of innocence that frightens me to my bones. One bone in particular isn’t quite as scared as it is blustering hard. I readjust as slyly as possible, which isn’t very.
Caroline blushes as she sets the bag down on the table in the center of the room, averting her gaze. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Your pilot came in today and was checking everything out. Also, the jump master was there checking chutes and unloading a ton of gear.”
Aidan. I’d forgotten he was going to be there today or I would have tried to come, too. We all have different responsibilitiesdependent upon our skill set. Aidan has the qualifications with regard to skydiving. And keeping his dick wet at all costs. Out of the band of merry assholes, he’s the one I trust the least with regard to anything female and mine.
I take Caroline’s hand in mine and bring it up to examine it closer before kissing her warm palm. “How was that? He give you any issues?”
Her gaze is like fire as she looks at my lips on her hand. “Fine. He apologized. It was just as awkward as you’d expect. The pilot was nice.”
“How nice?” I ask, grabbing her other hand and repeating the gesture. “Not too nice?”
She narrows her eyes. “Tyler Holiday. Are you jealous?” Her smile is beatific, and it accompanies my favorite laugh.
“Maybe. Does that turn you on?” I fire back. “My sexy pilot who rides a bicycle.”
She steps closer but folds her arms across her chest. “Are you teasing a pilot who rides a bicycle?” she whispers. Her tongue sweeps across her lower lip, an unintentional nudge reminding me to take her lips and make her mine.
I circle my hands around her arms, my fingers brushing her chest. “I would never,” I reply, grinning. “It doesn’t make any sense, but that’s status quo for you.”
“If I can’t travel one hundred thirty miles per hour, or more, in some of our other planes, cutting through the clouds, I’d rather stop and smell the roses. On a bicycle,” she explains. “A man who is used to a fast and furious life wouldn’tunderstand that.” It’s easy for her to lump me into a category other than the one she’s in.
Caroline’s cheeks flush crimson and she crosses one foot over the other. Narrowing my eyes, I run my hand up to brush the side of her face and then finger one of her golden braids in between my fingers. “Fast and furious is behind me now. I’m turning over a new leaf.” Even superheroes need a break. Doesn’t Superman hide in his fortress of solitude for a while? Batman bunker down in his cave while the world falls apart around him? This is my equivalent, my serenity. So long as she’s with me. “How about I’m turning over a new seashell?” Grabbing her hand, I guide her to the back room, past the stairways into a dark paneled sitting room that overlooks the ocean. If you squint hard enough you can see Crick’s Beach and our base fence in the distance. Caroline turns around, neck turned up as she examines the walls, dragging a finger that leaves a trail in the dust. I don’t let go of her hand. I tell her about my plans for the house now that I’m positive it’s worth restoring.
“You like Bronze Bay that much?” she fires back, quirking one brow, trying her best to not look affected by my touch.
