Page 28 of My All American Girl

I looked at Sarah once again. “You,” I barked, my tone brooking no argument. “Lieutenant Thomas. Move your ass. We’re going flying.”

To my surprise, she cracked a grin. Amusement danced in her eyes as she stepped out of line and headed toward the nearest T6. This was going to be too much fun. She thought she was going to show off and prove to her peers she was the best. I was here to remind her she was just starting out too. She might be the best in her mind, but there were other people that would decide that. Including me. My opinion was what mattered.

I watched as she prepared to climb into the cockpit, but before she could make her move, I clicked my tongue in disapproval.

“You’re sitting in the back,” I declared.

“What?”

“Backseat. Shotgun.”

Her mouth fell open in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”

I meet her gaze head on, daring her to defy another order. Slowly, she snapped her mouth closed and begrudgingly climbed into the back seat. With a sense of satisfaction, I slid into the pilot’s seat. This was her first lesson in humility. She was going to learn she wasn’t the queen of UPT. She was going to have to earn her place in the cockpit. I knew she was going to take it personally, and I supposed that made me a little happy. She was cocky. Not that it was a bad thing, but if she was going to be as cocky as she was, she needed to be able to back it up.

I cinched the straps of my helmet, ensuring it was secure before giving her a quick nod. “All set?”

“Yep,” she replied, a certain frostiness in her voice betraying her annoyance, but she kept any further comment to herself. I could see the burning determination in her eyes reflected in the mirror of my visor.

“Good.”

With that, I switched on the ignition and the propellers of the T6 began their thunderous hum. I felt the power. Damn, it was good to be back in the saddle.

It didn’t hurt to have a beautiful woman as a co-pilot.