CHAPTER 5
KURT HAD ONCE loved flying. Since the crash, it had featured near the top of his list of activities to avoid, alongside drinking too much tequila and watching fishing on television.
He distracted himself on the flight from DC to Barbados by reviewing his notes on everything he and Caitlyn had covered in the two weeks since her unexpected visit had turned his lifeon its ear.
After crafting the story of how they’d met and coming up with a few other get-togethers in the farce of their long-distance love affair, they had—thank you, Jesus—moved on to safer topics. How she’d named her dog after the beach near where she’d found him. Her day-to-day life as a pilot. How much they both enjoyed being their own boss. The routine of Kurt’s life running Steele, whichgave him a sense of purpose and let him reclaim the brotherhood he’d had as a PJ.
Now, as the plane started its descent into Grantley Adams, he forced himself to breathe deeply on approach, and watched out the window so he could anticipate touchdown. The plane hit hard and bounced once, and he practically tore the armrests from the seat, but they made it.
Thank God the newlyweds next to himhad slept for the entire flight and left him alone. There was nothing worse than having a neighboring passenger comment on his white-knuckle approach to flying.
How ironic that Caitlyn was a pilot. From the outside they seemed incompatible.
But he’d never thought so. Twelve years ago, he’d thought she was perfect for him. Smart, tough, gorgeous. He’d never met anyone like her.
But it had beenthe height of idiocy to expect a kiss to become something more, especially when he was poised to enter nearly two years of training—assuming he didn’t wash out of Indoc, which eighty percent of guys did—followed by a high ops tempo of deployments for the next fifteen-or-so years. What kind of woman in her right mind would sign up for a relationship with a man who would never be home?
If she’djustsaidthat, he might still be fantasizing about her, but he wouldn’t have hated himself for it. It was the betrayal that had gutted him. But then, they hadn’t made any promises. He’d merely made assumptions, formed expectations. He should have known better.
In his teen years, after one of many fights with his sister, Kurt’s mom had told them, “Our anger isn’t always as righteous as we thinkit is. We get mad when people—or life’s events—don’t meet our expectations. That doesn’t necessarily mean they did something wrong or bad. It’s just not whatyouwanted. And often, you end up hurting yourself more than them in the long run.” He hadn’t fully understood at the time. Only after she was gone did he realize how wise she’d been.
While catching up during the last two weeks, he and Caitlynhad fallen back into their easy friendship, and just like before, he wanted more. Part of him recoiled at the idea, but did it really make sense to blame her for something that happened so long ago? They’d been kids. He didn’t know why she’d kissed him and then hooked up with another man while he was gone, but it had been Kurt’s fault for turning a single—admittedly hot—kiss into a promiseof some kind. One he’d never asked for and she hadn’t given.
Trusting her again wouldn’t come easy, but dammit, he liked the woman she was now as much—maybe more than—the woman she’d been at twenty-two. And she seemed to like him too. Sure,he might be misreading her again. This trip was his chance to find out. Worst case, he was back where he started, but at least he would have tried. He couldleave Barbados without regrets and move on.
In the back of his mind, without fully realizing it, he’d been using her as the gold standard for every woman he met. It wasn’t fair to them or to him, because no one could ever be her. Even Caitlyn in the flesh wasn’t the ideal of a woman that he had fashioned around her in his mind. But she was close enough to screw with him. And in many ways, betterthan some fantasy version.
He had two days with Caitlyn to show her how good they could be together, and he planned to make the most of them.
He shuffled off the plane and carefully navigated the roll-up stairs to the tarmac behind the other passengers, his shirt already stuck to his back with sweat. Customs and immigration awaited, but at least he wouldn’t suffer scrutiny from security again.Flying as an amputee wasn’t exactly a picnic these days.
Twenty minutes later, he found Caitlyn near the baggage claim area wearing a white tank top and tan shorts that showed off her long, athletic legs and a riot of dark freckles on pale skin.
He longed to connect all the dots. With his tongue.
She met him halfway with a solid hug that brought their bodies in contact from shoulders to hips.He held on tight as he imagined a man might who hadn’t seen his fiancée for weeks. The way he’d wanted to hold her for years. She was lean but soft in his arms, and something in him eased as he held her. Maybe it was her fresh, outdoorsy scent or her smooth skin. Whatever it was, embracing her was “right” in a way it could never be with another woman. If he hadn’t been sure she was worth a secondchance before, he was now.
She pulled away to give him a quick cinnamon-gum flavored kiss on the lips that brought back a flood of memories, and then smiled. “I missed you.”
So the show starts now.
His insides went haywire. “Me too, hon.” He smoothed back a loose strand of her hair, prolonging contact. “You look great.”
Her cheeks flushed. She gave him another too-short kiss and grabbed hishand.
He ignored the stares and surreptitious looks as they moved through the crowd toward the exit. Six years in, he was used to it. When he could first walk on his prosthetic legs, he’d worn pants everywhere. Now he didn’t give a shit. He’d rather be comfortable than worry about making others comfortable with his appearance. In fact, outside of work, he often wore shorts well into winter.
Within ten minutes, they sat in her old Land Rover motoring down the left side of the road past grass and fields of some crop, palm trees, and lush stands of trees that rivaled anything in Virginia. They were flanked by green jungle on the hills to their left, and gorgeous blue ocean out the driver’s side window. “I can see the appeal, but is it warm and humid all year long?” he asked.
“I seemto recall you thinking this would be the perfect weather once upon a time.”
“Yeah, well, I run hot now.”
She gave him an uncertain look, maybe trying to decide if he was messing with her. “I don’t think anybody’s bugged my car,” she said. “We can relax in here.”
“That wasn’t an innuendo.” But it could’ve been. God knew just the sight of her raised his temperature. “Amputees have less surfacearea to release heat, and walking on prosthetic legs takes far more energy than walking on my own legs did.” On the plus side, winter in DC no longer sucked.
“Oh.” She frowned slightly, and her eyes scanned from the road to her mirrors, and back again.
