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“You mean ‘the bears out of the woods’?”
“Sure. Whatever.”
“Is he blond? You said ‘Goldilocks’.”
“I have no idea,” he admitted, looking at her. “Does it matter if you are going to be friends… and that’s it?”
“No. It doesn’t matter,” she murmured, staring at the piece of paper. “I’ll email him this evening.”
“From your personal email…”
“Will it matter?” she asked candidly, angling her head and feeling curious, throwing the captain’s own words back at him boldly. It might have been a mistake because his expression darkened fractionally and she continued, hoping to ease the conversation.
“I mean, if we are not going to be discussing locations for protocol – does it matter? If he asks, I can refer to security regulations or tell him I’m not at liberty to discuss this.”
“Fine. Fine. Whatever… but no one put you up to this, okay?”
“Then how did I get this email address?”
They stared at each other for a few moments before Captain Logan sighed heavily and looked at her.
“Can you quit asking the hard questions and poking holes in all of this?Please?I mean, if push comes to shove? Tell him he’s got some blasted fairy godmother watching out for his sour butt and he needs to pull himself out of whatever funk that he’s wallowing in.”
“I see.”
“Good,” Logan said glibly. “Anything else, Beck?”
“No, sir,” she hesitated, holding back a slight smile. “No more hard questions – pull ‘Goldilocks, The-Mysterious-Hidden-Flyboy’out of his funk. I’ve got my orders, captain.”
He gave her a hard look… but his eyes were glittering with humor.
“Thank you – and good luck, Beck.”
CHAPTER3
SPARKY
“Jeez…will you get up and quit moping?”
Reaper was standing over his bunk, looking at Austin while several of the other men filed out of the room. They were heading for the mess hall for dinner, and he just didn’t feel like eating.
Nothing appealed to him anymore.
Austin was out here, in the middle of nowhere, with barely any contact from his friends because they were too busy with their own lives. The buddies he’d made in high school playing baseball were now taking their own children to t-ball practice.
The friends he’d made at the Academy had been scattered around the world, in different locations, busy setting down roots or exploring the surrounding area… and he was here.
In the world’s biggest litter box, surrounded by… well, poo.
A hot, steaming, smelly litter box… where the people in the area recognized on sight that he didn’t belong. Going into town was something the Army did on patrol – and they were armed or ready for anything.
Austin watched almost enviously as the trucks would roll out. He saw the troops climb on board, while he stood there in his flight suit that had zero-protection from a bullet. Oh, it would keep him from passing out, help him in an aerial dogfight if push came to shove… but he missed people.
He missed the adventure of stepping into a new bar or a club, seeing appreciative smiles, catching meaningful glances, dancing with girls, and playing a simple game of darts with the guys.
He never imagined that he would yearn for a bowling night at the Academy. The guys would get together on a free weekend – and play for hours at a time. Five or six of them would pile into a taxi at two in the morning, returning to the barracks.
He missed fun… and girls.
