Chapter 4 - Wes
I should leave. I don’t.
I stay where I am, coffee cooling under my hand, because standing up would mean admitting I’m more affected than I care to be.
Hailey turns back to me, curiosity bright and unguarded. “You asked what I do,” she says. “What about you?”
“I’m an Air Force flight instructor,” I reply. “Which means I spend a good part of my time in the air—and an unfortunate amount behind a desk.”
Her brows lift. “Paperwork?”
I exhale through my nose, a restrained half-smile tugging at my mouth. “More than I’d like. Schedules, evaluations, reports. It comes with the territory.”
“Oh, I didn’t picture you behind a desk, Captain.” She shrugs lightly, her eyes drifting over me in a way that’s anything but accidental. It’s flirting—subtle, warm, unmistakable. My chest expands, heat spreading low and slow. Before I can ask what it means, she continues, “It just doesn’t seem like it’s what you’re built for.”
The wordbuiltlands heavier than it should.
She hums softly, thoughtful. “Yeah. You’re definitely not built for paperwork.”
I shouldn’t enjoy exactly how focused she is on every detail of my body. My hand shouldn’t tighten around my glass to keep myself in place. I sure as hell shouldn’t be forgetting we’re in a public space or considering how easy it would be to hop over the bar and get closer to her – give her a better view of me just to see what she’ll do under my gaze.
“Is that a fact?” I ask, voice lower and rougher than it should be.
She shrugs. “I could see you on the front line or as some kind of secretive op saving the world on a daily basis without breaking a sweat.”
The corner of my mouth twitches into a smile that makes her eyes widen and her plush lips part. “You’ve watched too many movies.”
“Or you haven’t watched enough. You haveJack Reacherbeaten.” I shake my head, then she glances to the side. “Gotta get back to work. Maybe you’ll have more than a drink tonight.”
That little hint that she remembers exactly how much I drank last night isn’t huge, but it feels important. Like she’s as aware of me as I am of her. I know better than to get involved with the Colonel’s daughter, but her honest and sunshiny smile makes remembering that much more difficult.
Not that remembering Colonel Carter keeps me from finishing my decaf—or from staying when a second one sounds tempting. Or maybe it’s just an excuse to linger. To keep Hailey within reach. To let my eyes stray longer than they should, even knowing someone might notice.
When she comes back, mug already in hand, I remember exactly who I am—and what it means to lose control.
“Captain… another?” she asks, soft and hopeful. “Or maybe something a little stronger, if you’re done for the night?”
It’s said lightly, without intent, but it lands anyway. I shake my head, forcing restraint.
“Just need to close my tab.”
Something flickers across her face—disappointment, quickly hidden. “Right.”
I shouldn’t wonder what that means. Whether she wanted me to stay. Whether leaving now is the only smart choice.
She isn’t someone I can want, let alone keep. Not because of her name alone, but because there’s an openness to her—a searching quality—that feels dangerous to someone like me. I need structure. Certainty. Not someone made of warmth and questions.
“Tomorrow?” she asks as she slides the bill toward me.
I pass over my card. “I don’t drink every night.”
A small smile curves her lips. “Then maybe I’ll see you in the halls. If you’re buried in paperwork.”
She walks away before I can answer, but her eyes linger on me a second longer than necessary, that familiar blush rising to her cheeks.
I watch her move through the room, the way people seem to soften around her, ranks fading, rules loosening. Hailey has that effect—quiet, effortless. Her hair keeps slipping behind her ear, a small green stud catching the light, her smile real enough to make this place feel less rigid.
Distance. That’s what I need.
