Читать книгу Call Sign Karma - Jamie Rae - Страница 12

With the way today was going, I was certain Karma and Lady Luck had teamed up to destroy me.

I wanted to kick myself. Who was I last night? I never had a one-night stand, but secretly I hoped it wasn’t going to be just one night. But that was no longer an option. We could both destroy our careers.

I kept my head down and when he appeared in class or in the hallway, we acted as if we were complete strangers, which is what we had once again become.

I needed to forget it and forget him. There was no room in this program to be unfocused. I was about to get my ass handed to me in the Joint Strike Fighter. Conquering this beast needed to be my sole focus. Nothing else. No distractions.

I tossed a binder into my backpack as Mojo, one of the guys who had tied my lace stepped in front of me. And if short, dark and handsome assholes with hazel green eyes were your type, then Mojo would be your man.

“How’s your head?” Mojo asked as if he really cared. He was only a few inches taller than me and held his arms like he was ready to push over a house.

I walked around him.

“Listen, I’m trying to apologize,” he said as he followed.

I kept walking.

“Come on, I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. It was a joke. An initiation.”

I stopped and turned back, getting into his face. “Would you have done it to one of the other guys?”

“Yeah.”

“What would you have done when he cracked his head on the ground?”

“Laughed my ass off,” he said with a smirk.

My mood lifted a hair knowing he would’ve done it to one of the guys too.

“Good, then laugh your ass off, dickhead.” Shoving him, I headed toward the door.

“Pinkerton?”

“What?” I stopped and glanced over my shoulder.

“Let’s go, we’re meeting at The Debrief Bar.” Mojo smiled. He would almost be handsome if he weren’t such an ass. I hesitated and considered his offer for a truce.

The shoelaces tied together was just a joke. They would have done it to anyone—boobs or no boobs.

He opened up the door and punched me in the arm. I tried not to flinch. It was a good kind of pain and in spite of myself, I smiled.

* * * *

I needed more alcohol like I needed another crack to my head, but it was nice to be a part of the brotherhood so I couldn’t refuse. I tossed my bag by the door of the bar. Stitch held a beer in my direction and I joined him.

“Cheers to the first day down,” he said.

We clanked our bottles. One day down, lots more to go.

I took a drink.

Mojo told a story about shitting his pants during a flight after eating bad sushi in Okinawa. The bar erupted in laughter when he mimicked the expression of the crew chief when the jet’s canopy opened.

It was way too much information, but I was one of the guys and this is what guys did. Talked about gross stuff, laughed, and scratched themselves. I wasn’t about to scratch my ass, but I could if I wanted to, and it felt good. I felt good. Until he walked in.

The first thing I noticed was his lips, and instantly remembered how he tasted like honey with a touch of spearmint when we kissed. The thought made me want to touch myself first and then smack myself upside the head. Hard.

British slurs where thrown out while others patted him on the back. I tried not to notice when he smiled and joked with a few of the guys before strolling to the bar to grab a beer. But it was hard not to, especially when I caught his spicy scent as he walked by.

My stomach twisted into a giant-sized knot. His ass looked incredible in his flight suit, which was not easy to pull off. I silently scolded and reminded myself that we couldn’t be together. Not now, not here, not ever. But last night was too fresh in my mind and I needed to get out of here. I took the last gulp of beer and stood. I couldn’t watch him anymore.

“Where are you going? It’s only 1730,” Stitch said.

“I need to run errands,” I replied and the knot in my stomach tightened. I was going to burn in hell for all these little lies.

“I’ll walk you to your Jeep.” He had taken on the role as my guardian. And though it was nice of him, I didn’t need protection. I could take care of myself.

“I’m good.”

He nodded with a patient look of understanding. I grabbed my bag and almost ran into Bodhi.

“Dude, how’s the noggin?” he asked as he knocked on my head.

“Fine.”

“Cool. Let me know if you need anything,” he said and fist bumped me on the way out.

I shot a quick glance to the bar. Locke didn’t even notice that I was leaving. What did I want him to do? Kiss me and tell me he’d be there for our date? It wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t.

I swung my legs over the Jeep’s door and tossed my bag in the back. My fist collided with the dashboard. I muttered a string of obscenities and pounded on the steering wheel.

“Easy girl, that’s not how you get that car to start.” A male voice startled me.

I glanced in my side mirror. It came from a dark haired guy in camouflage donning a burgundy beret that declared him a Combat Rescue Officer with Special Forces.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. You might have heard me coming if you weren’t abusing your poor Jeep.” He rested his hand on my door as if I were inviting him for conversation.

I wasn’t.

I wanted to get the hell out of here and go home. This was not a time for conversation.

“Bad day?” he asked.

Did he realize I wasn’t participating? I stared at him deciding to see how long he would talk to himself.

“What’s your name?”

He leaned in and looked at my chest. My eyes narrowed.

“Lieutenant Tinklee Pinkerton,” he read out loud. “Pinkerton, that name sounds familiar. I know we’ve never met, I would have remembered.”

He smiled, and if he wasn’t so annoying, I might have paid more attention to his perfect jaw line and dark eyes.

He continued, “Well, Tinklee Pinkerton, hope tomorrow’s a better day.” He tapped my door and walked away.

I watched. He was strong, fit, rugged, and confident. He couldn’t care less that he’d had a completely one-sided conversation. He glanced back over his shoulder. I couldn’t believe it—he pushed his luck.

“Great talking to you,” he said with a wink.

The last thing I needed was another arrogant ass toying with me. He jogged up the stairs and punched in the door code to the squadron. The door swung open and he disappeared inside.

“Asshole,” I said to myself.

I put the key in the ignition and started the Jeep when the door opened. My pulse quickened and I locked eyes with my monumental mistake.

I shifted the Jeep into gear and reversed. I did not want to see him and I definitely didn’t want to be alone with him. He held a motorcycle helmet in his hand and started toward me.

“Lieutenant,” he yelled.

I put the Jeep into drive as he continued rushing toward me.

“Wait!”

Not a chance in hell. Accelerating way too fast, I peeled out of the parking lot without looking back. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. I turned the corner a lot faster than I should have and a security forces policeman flashed his patrol lights as a warning.

I slowed and drove the twenty-five mile an hour speed limit. The way my blood pumped, I could have gotten out and ran faster than I drove. I heard the motorbike’s buzz before I saw it. Locke was behind me. I wanted to slam on my brakes and see how far I could launch him into the air. He’d need his own jet to get down.

Once I got off the military base, I threw it in fifth. The motorbike had no problem keeping up with me. I pulled into my driveway, cut the engine, jumped over the door, and stormed to my walkway. He was off his bike and at my side before I made it to the porch.

“Wait!”

I ignored him and trotted up the first few stairs to the porch. His footsteps followed.

“We need to talk.”

My key sank into the lock.

“Tinklee,” he said with a thickened accent.

I swung around, resisting the urge to push his ass off my property.

“So you do realize I have an actual name.”

“What did you want me to do?” he asked with a deep-set crease between his brows. He was visibly upset. “You shocked the bloody hell out of me. Why didn’t you tell me you were a JSF student?”

“I don’t know, why didn’t you tell me you were a JSF instructor?” I questioned and threw my hands in the air.

“You didn’t tell me your name, which by the way, might have been good to know. I read the student roster. That would have saved us both from this mistake.”

I jerked my head like his words slapped me across the face. It was too late. It was out there. I knew it was a mistake, but saying it out loud cut deep.

I turned back toward the door.

“That was a daft thing to say,” he said in a gentle, caring voice. “I didn’t mean it like that. Listen, last night was incredible.”

“Just go,” I replied. I turned the key and I tried to swallow the lump wedged in my throat.

He grabbed my hand and sparked that fire that made me want to forget who he was and what it meant. My perfect stranger was back with all his tenderness. I wanted to kiss him, hold him, and not have any of the rules matter. But I knew it was impossible. He knew it, too.

“Tinklee, please. I understand now. The pain, the hurt in your eyes.” He paused. “I read the report about your brother’s accident today. I know what you weren’t saying last night.”

“You need to go,” I said and pulled my hand away.

I couldn’t do this with him. He was my instructor. If he knew how messed up I truly was, he could end me.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“You’re my instructor. I think that says it all,” I whispered as I stared into his eyes.

The muscles around his jaw tensed and I watched in silence as he walked down the stairs. He sat on his Harley, revved the engine, and held his helmet by its strap. He made me feel like my old self last night. It was something I thought would never be possible.

Locke pulled out of my driveway and turned into the drive next door. He shut off his bike and got off. What was he doing?

With a glance in my direction, he strode to the front of the house. He unlocked the door and went inside.

Oh. Hell. No.

Locke Sinclair was my neighbor?

Freaking Karma.