“I love you, Dad. Say hi to Mom when she gets home from her meeting.”
The lieutenant colonel cleared his throat, and there was a gravelly edge to his voice when he said, “Will do. I love you, too.”
Marley disconnected the call and shoved her phone in the Velcro side pocket on her leg. Her copilot had given her the new military issued sat phone a few hours ago after her old cell had been accidentally crushed under a heavy crate of supplies.
She rolled her shoulders back, and tilted her head from side to side, shrugging off the role of mommy and easing back into the familiar comfort of pilot.
Her parents would keep Maddie safe and sound and absolutely happy while she was gone, leaving Marley with nothing to worry about other than the task at hand, which was transporting a team of special operatives on a HALO jump. One of the scariest missions as far as Marley was concerned. Give her a C-130 any day of the week, she’d take that puppy up in the air and even land her in a combat zone, but jumping out of one with nothing more than a piece of material strapped on her back . . . ? That required a special kind of crazy.
She walked carefully around her airplane, methodically checking for any signs of disrepair. The loadmaster gave her a quick thumbs-up as she circled around the back of the plane and she waved in response, continuing on her journey until she reached the wide metal staircase leading up into the plane.
Marley put a hand on the railing—and then instantly yanked her burning palm back. Rookie mistake. She knew better than to touch metal barehanded in this kind of heat. If she didn’t get her head in the game, her life wouldn’t be the only one she was endangering.
Careful to avoid the scorching handle, she quickly jogged up the steps, closing her eyes in the welcome coolness inside the airplane. At least it offered cover from the sun’s brutal rays.
“Almost done with the preflight check,” her copilot, Thomas Ramsey, called out with a sarcastic tone to his voice that she could easily interpret:Hey, you’re slacking off and leaving me to do all the work.
“Be there in a minute.” She wouldn’t offer Ramsey any excuses; she’d done his check more than once. Besides, getting those last few minutes of quiet time to talk to her daughter before takeoff was well worth any ire she might incur from her copilot.
She’d do a quick brief with the operators, and check with the loadmaster once more before they dismissed. The light, high-speed mission called for only a skeleton crew. Normally they’d have two loadmasters and a navigator along with the pilot and copilot, but due to the highly classified intelligence on this mission, it was just going to be Marley and Ramsey handling the plane.
She descended the three steps down into the cargo hold and pulled up short a few feet behind a tall broad-shouldered man with dark salt-and-pepper hair. His black tactical shirt could do nothing to disguise the way his waist tapered into a narrow V, and when he shifted, power practically emanated from the rippling muscles outlined across his back.
Marley’s mouth went dry.
She hadn’t noticed a man’s shoulders since her husband, and he’d been dead nearly seven years.
The buzz of conversation around the room faded as the men became acutely aware of her presence. Suddenly, briefing this team didn’t seem like such a good idea. Intimidation was practically sparking off their shoulders and zipping around the cockpit.
And just like in junior high after her first outbreak of pimples and period, Marley was abruptly cast into the role of the outsider. Like everyone was staring at every single flaw on her entire body. The nine pairs of nearly expressionless eyes that whipped her way seemed to confirm her impression that every minute detail of her person was being scrutinized by every person in the room.
Every person other than the man with the sexy back and shoulders.Hestill faced away from her, and for some reason the thought of him turning around made her heart lurch in her chest like someone had hooked a giant chain into her and yanked.
As if he had some type of telepathic connection with her mind, the man glanced over his shoulder with all the attention he would pay an annoying horsefly buzzing around his ear. He dismissed her presence just as quickly.
But not before she caught a glimpse of a five o’clock shadow the same peppery shade as his hair, and a strong straight nose that matched thick dark brows.
One of the taller men to her left—and tall in this group was an understatement; they all qualified as near giants—cleared his throat and tilted his head in her direction. “Colonel, I think the lady wants to talk to you.”
Three things happened in that instant.
Anger swept straight up her torso and flushed her cheeks hot. The term ‘the lady’ all but discounted her.
Then it registered that the soldier had called the handsome man ‘colonel,’ which set her off for a different reason—her father was a lieutenant colonel.
Her third and final thought sent a new wave of heat through her, flushing her cheeks for a totally different reason that left her standing there mute like a freaking idiot. She’d felt more attraction to this man’s shoulders and back than she had to any man’s front in the better part of a decade.
Her senses heightened. Her skin prickled like she’d suddenly gotten a rash. As if on cue, the colonel slowly turned and stared directly into her eyes, his gray gaze momentarily leaving her mind as blank as the pocked stretch of concrete outside the plane.
The front was even better than the back.
“May I help you, ma’am?” His slow southern drawl caught her off guard—from the man’s hawk-like features, she’d expected a harsh and commanding monotone rather than the easy slide of words from his lips.
His hair was just a touch longer than a close-cropped military buzz cut, and her fingers itched to touch it and see if it was as silky as it looked. He took a deep breath and the movement shoved his pecs against his already tight black shirt, making her heart flutter like she was a freaking teenager. All she needed now were her old braces and bowl cut bangs, and she’d be straight back in the ’90s stuttering when the high-school basketball star looked at her for the first time.
“Ma’am?”
Someone from the right, she barely caught the movement of a blond beard in her periphery, said, “Colonel, maybe if you stopped with the interrogation stare?”
