Читать книгу Coming Up for Air - Karen Foley - Страница 7

THE WAY TO TELL IF A man was a good lover was to watch how he danced. Captain Jenna Larson didn’t know if the observation was true, since none of her exes had enjoyed dancing very much. That should have been her first clue, since none of them had been exceptional in bed, either.

A slow country song throbbed through the speakers at Shooters nightclub, and Jenna could feel the seductive pull of it in her veins. Finishing her beer, she set the empty bottle down on the bar. She’d told herself a dozen times since she’d first spotted him that she wasn’t going to look, but her gaze was drawn irresistibly back to the couple moving slowly across the dance floor. Despite the crush of people surrounding them, the man guided his partner effortlessly through the crowd, his hands holding her with an easy confidence.

He moved with a fluid grace, his body shifting and sliding in perfect rhythm to the music while accommodating his partner’s motions. He was lean and fit, the material of his black shirt stretched taut across the thrust of his shoulders. His jeans rode low on his hips and his scuffed cowboy boots lent him extra height. Watching him dance, Jenna had no doubt that he would be exceptional in bed, completely attuned to his partner’s body.

He bent his head to catch something the woman said to him, and then he laughed and drew her closer to the curve of his body, never missing a beat. His teeth were white in his suntanned face and Jenna noted the deep indents in his cheeks when he grinned. As they turned the corner of the dance floor, his gaze slid lazily over the crowd and, for an instant, his eyes met hers and held.

Jenna stared at him over his partner’s head, unable to look away. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been so enthralled by a man, military or otherwise. Everything about him commanded her attention, from his built-for-sex body to his lazy, devil-may-care smile. She didn’t know the first thing about him, except that he was in the army, assigned to nearby Fort Bragg, just like ninety-five percent of the men in the club that night.

Jenna had caught glimpses of him several times on the army base, and even from a distance he’d captured her attention. Less than two weeks ago, she’d run into him at the local supermarket. Literally, as she’d turned a corner, she’d collided with his shopping cart. He had smiled at her as she’d apologized, and there had been no mistaking the masculine interest in his eyes. In fact, she’d felt him watching her as she’d walked away, and when she’d surreptitiously glanced back at him, he’d grinned shamelessly, making no effort to hide the fact that he was, indeed, ogling her. The knowledge had made her feel shivery and delicious.

Two days later, she’d bumped into him at the post office. Against her better judgment, she’d opened her mouth to introduce herself, but he’d looked right through her, without a hint of recognition or interest. The complete switch had puzzled her, making her wonder if she’d only imagined the heat she’d seen in his eyes just days earlier.

Now, as she watched him, the corners of his lips lifted and he closed one eye in an audacious wink, before smoothly swinging the woman away to the other side of the floor. Jenna realized she had been holding her breath and she let it out in a rush, signaling to the bartender for another beer. The music came to a stop and she peeked back in time to see him give the woman a brief hug before releasing her to rejoin a group of men shooting pool on the far side of the room.

She gave a snort of disdain as she watched the woman pause on the edge of the dance floor and preen for whoever might still be watching her. wearing too-tight white jeans and a skimpy shirt that exposed her tanned midriff, she was obviously a local. Her long hair was dyed an unnatural shade of red, and she had enough makeup on to qualify as camouflage. But she had a curvy little body, and she smiled at every guy who looked her way, including her dance partner’s pool-shooting buddies.

Jenna covertly watched as his friends welcomed his return with nudges and winks. He took it in stride, but while the other guys looked longingly at the redhead’s ass when she finally sauntered away, he turned and stared directly at Jenna. She paused, her beer halfway to her lips, and then tipped the bottle toward him in a silent salute before taking a long swallow. He smiled, a slow tilting of his mouth that caused his dimples to emerge, then picked up his cue and turned his attention to the pool table.

“Who’re you gawking at?”

Jenna turned to see her copilot and bunk mate, Warrant Officer Laura Costanza, squeeze up to the bar beside her. Together, they had flown three separate training missions during the past twenty-four hours, and had been given the next twenty-four hours off in order to rest and be ready to fly again. Aside from their shared love of flying helicopters, they had little in common, but they’d become close friends in the three years that they’d worked together. Jenna found the other woman’s down-to-earth candor both amusing and refreshing. But Jenna also knew that if Laura discovered she’d been lusting after someone, she’d never hear the end of it.

“Nobody,” she fibbed. “How was your dance?”

“Had my feet stomped on a couple of times.” The younger woman grinned. “No biggie.” She shifted her focus to the men shooting pool. “Ah, let me guess. Major Hottie in the black shirt and boots. He is drool-worthy.”

Jenna shrugged and deliberately turned her back to the dance floor and the pool tables. “He’s okay.”

Laura laughed. “Yeah, right. Like every female in here doesn’t want to jump his bones.” She gave a dramatic sigh. “Sadly, he’s way above my pay grade. You could always go for it, though. Oh, but I almost forgot—you don’t get involved with military guys.” She tipped her head as she pretended to consider. “Why is that again?”

Even Laura didn’t know the real reason that Jenna avoided men in the military. Her father was a highly decorated Vietnam pilot and had taught Jenna how to fly when she was barely a teenager. But while he might be a legend in the military annals, he’d made her mother’s life hell. The same qualities that made him an extraordinary soldier also made him a terrible partner. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear the bitter battles that had waged between him and her mom, mostly over his drinking and his numerous affairs. Jenna’s mother would give him an ultimatum, and for a few months he’d actually remain sober. Those were the times that Jenna liked to remember, the long summer days on Cape Cod when she’d help him run his helicopter sightseeing and tour business. She’d logged more flight hours in her teen years than some military pilots did during an entire career. There was no question that her father had been an exceptional flight instructor; he just hadn’t been a great husband or father. But he’d been her role model and the center of her young life, and she would have done anything to make him proud. To make him love her. But nothing she did ever seemed good enough. She gave her friend a tolerant look.

“Because I like to keep my private life just that—private,” she said. “Getting involved with another soldier is asking for trouble. And how can you tell he’s above your pay grade, anyway? Do you know him?”

She and Laura were assigned to a helicopter battalion out of upstate New York, but had been at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, for just over three weeks while they prepared for a six-month deployment to Afghanistan. Their training exercises left little time to socialize or meet other soldiers assigned to the base. The only reason Jenna found herself looking twice at this guy was because she’d been going through a particularly long dry spell. At this point, it didn’t take much to fire her engines.

“Well, I don’t know him,” Laura hedged. “I only know his name is Chase Rawlins. He’s an army major with Special Ops. His unit deploys in a couple of days. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

Jenna glanced over her shoulder at the pool table in time to see him smoothly knock a cue ball into a side pocket. Major Hottie, indeed. She’d pegged him for an enlisted guy, which would have made him off-limits, since fraternization between officers and enlisted members was strictly prohibited. But if he was also an officer … Despite her self-denial regarding men in uniform, she couldn’t prevent the surge of anticipation she felt at learning he was fair game, should she choose to end her abstinence.

There was just one small problem.

“We leave for Afghanistan in three days,” she said glumly. “Even if his unit wasn’t deploying, and even if I was interested, it’s not like I have time to get to know the guy.”

Laura raised her eyebrows and took a sip of beer. “Who says you need to get to know him? You’re a helicopter pilot. You’re genetically predisposed to have meaningless sex.”

Jenna laughed, but acknowledged that, for most of the unmarried pilots in her battalion, that was the truth. It was one of the reasons she avoided dating them. One-night stands and short-lived relationships were an accepted way of life for them. Of course, they were also men. Despite the fact she had achieved equality in the cockpit, distinct double standards still existed. If she slept around as much as some of her male counterparts did, she’d find herself the target of some pretty derogatory comments.

Not that Jenna hadn’t had her share of hookups. She had. Just not in the past eight months. But she always chose men who had nothing to do with the military;

guys whose worlds were so far removed from her own that there was no chance of them colliding. Guys who couldn’t follow her when she returned to base, safe behind the razor-wire fences and security checkpoints.

Of course, that would all change in six months, when both her deployment and her military commitment would end. After a lot of soul-searching, she’d made the decision to get out of the military altogether and return to Cape Cod, where she hoped to help her father run his tour business. He wasn’t getting any younger, and she felt a need to spend time with him, to show him that, although she might not be the son he’d always wished for, she’d done okay.

She’d never even considered hooking up with one of her fellow pilots, as gorgeous and funny as some of them were. Most women would kill for the opportunity to peel one of those hotties out of his flight suit, but not Jenna. She’d seen too many relationships crash and burn within the battalion to make that particular mistake. Plus, most of her male colleagues had egos the size of aircraft carriers. From Jenna’s perspective, it seemed, no matter how much a female pilot might be liked and respected, ultimately she became the competition. Or the attraction eventually waned, and then the two were stuck working together. She’d seen it happen again and again, and the resulting friction created discomfort for the entire unit.

Thanks, but no thanks.

Despite what Laura had said, Jenna wasn’t entirely averse to hooking up with someone in uniform, as long as their respective military careers ensured they wouldn’t run into each other during duty hours. The fact that it had been years since she’d been tempted by a fellow soldier didn’t mean anything. She just hadn’t met anyone who interested her enough to set aside her own number-one rule of engagement.

Until now.

She slid a covert glance at Chase Rawlins as she weighed the risks of getting involved with him, even for one night. At least he wasn’t a pilot, and they worked in completely separate units. During the three weeks she’d been at Fort Bragg, she’d never run into him while she’d been working. And in three days, she’d be gone.

“Special Ops, huh?” she asked, tracing a fingertip along the rim of her bottle, considering. If he really was deploying, the likelihood that they would ever see each other again was slim to none. Special Ops commandos kept to themselves and operated under the radar. Their deployments took them to remote locations where few people were aware of their existence. If she decided to get involved with this guy, it would definitely be a hit-and-run maneuver. “So you think I should go for it?”

Laura made a scoffing sound. “Are you kidding? The guy is beyond hot. Besides, we’re outta here in a couple of days. It’s not like you’ll ever see him again. And if it makes you feel any better, in six months your commitment to the U.S. Army is over. Once you’re back to civilian life, there’ll be no chance of running into him again. He’s totally checking you out, by the way. No, don’t look!”

Jenna groaned. “This is ridiculous. You’d think we were teenagers.” After a moment, she slapped both hands decisively on the bar and hopped down from the stool. “I’ll take care of this.”

“What’re you going to do?” Laura asked, her face alight with anticipation.

“Watch and learn, oh young one,” Jenna replied, waggling her eyebrows.

“Wait!” Jenna watched as Laura dragged her pocket-book from the back of the bar stool and began rummaging through it. “Here, take this. I always keep extras, just in case.” She pushed something into Jenna’s hand.

Jenna stared down at the shiny foil packet and gave a huff of astonished laughter. “A condom? Seriously, Laura, I don’t think—”

“You’re right—one’s not enough. Take two.” She shoved another small packet into Jenna’s fingers.

Afraid that someone might see, Jenna stuffed the two condoms into the front pocket of her jeans. “You’re unbelievable. This is just a dance.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. And the Beatles were just a band. Now, go!” She made a shooing motion with her hand.

Inside, Jenna’s heart was beating fast. She was going to ask him for a dance, and whatever happened after that would be up to him. If they only ended up dancing, it would be no big deal. As she approached the group of men, he straightened and leaned against his cue to watch her, masculine appreciation in his expression. By the time she reached him, the other men had stopped to watch, too.

Jenna halted mere inches from the man, deliberately invading his personal space in what she liked to think of as her first test of compatibility. At five feet, eleven inches tall, she was nearly eye-level with him. She’d learned from experience that some guys found her height a little unsettling, but he seemed unfazed. The warm gleam in his eyes and the hint of a dimple in one cheek made her feel as if her approaching him had been a foregone conclusion, but instead of annoyance, the thought drew a reluctant smile from her.

“Hey,” she said in greeting, letting her gaze slide over him.

Up close, the guy was absolutely mouthwatering, from his translucent green eyes, alight with interest, to his square jaw and sensuous smiling mouth. His brown hair was cropped close to his head, but Jenna could see bronze-and-gold glints in the short strands, and guessed he spent a lot of time in the sun, which made sense considering his line of work. He crossed his arms over his chest, and Jenna found herself transfixed by the way the material of his shirt strained over his thick biceps. She swallowed hard and silently acknowledged that she’d be more than a little disappointed if all she got from him was a dance. It seemed every cell in her body suddenly stood at attention, eagerly waiting to obey whatever command he might want to give.

“Hey.” He grinned, revealing dimples deep enough to drive a truck into.

Jenna pretended to lean negligently against the pool table, needing something solid to support her as her knees weakened beneath his smile. What had Laura said his first name was? Jenna couldn’t think clearly, and hoped her sudden confusion didn’t show on her face.

“So, Rawlins,” she said, deliberately using just his surname, “You wanna dance?” Her voice sounded both seductive and challenging.

“You bet.”

Without taking his eyes from her, he thrust his cue toward the nearest man and caught her hand firmly in his own as he pulled her toward the dance floor. He swung her into his arms, and finally Jenna knew firsthand what it was like to have all that strength and grace surround her. For as long as she could remember, she had struggled to come to terms with her height. Next to other women, she usually felt like a galumphing elephant, but she’d learned a long time ago not to let anyone see her insecurities. Right now, though, despite the fact he was only several inches taller than her, she felt fragile in his arms.

He splayed one hand at the small of her back, while his other held hers captive. There was nothing tentative or polite about the action; it was uncompromisingly confident, bordering on possessive. He maintained just enough space between the framework of their bodies so that they weren’t actually touching, but Jenna could feel the heat he generated.

“I haven’t seen you in here before.” His voice was warm and rich, with a distinctly Texan drawl.

Jenna suppressed a smile, enjoying the easy way he maneuvered her body to match his movements. “That’s because I’ve never been in here before.”

He drew back slightly and his eyes narrowed as they traveled leisurely over her features. “Have we met?”

Her breath caught as he suddenly spun her into a neat turn beneath his hand, before bringing her back into his arms. “Oh, wow.” She laughed. “Wasn’t expecting that.” She regained her focus, feeling a little off-balance, steadied only by the warm hand at her back. “Um, no. We haven’t actually met, unless you count the time I nearly ran you over in the grocery store last week.”

“Ah …” he said meaningfully, as if something had finally clicked. “I knew I’d seen you before.” He increased the pressure of his fingers, urging her closer. His warm breath fanned her ear. “So how do you know my name?”

Jenna leaned back enough to stare boldly into his eyes. “I asked.”

Their gazes held for a long moment, before his lips curved in a slow smile. He gave a soft laugh of either amusement or admiration and then he eased her body closer, sliding his palm up to rest between her shoulder blades, while he curled his other hand around her fingers and pressed them to his chest. The movement brought her up against his hard contours, and beneath the fingers of her free hand, his shoulder muscles bunched and relaxed.

Jenna’s heart beat faster than necessary; too fast for such a slow dance. She was acutely conscious of how well their bodies fit together, their hips perfectly aligned. If she turned her face even fractionally, her lips would brush against the smooth, tanned skin of his neck. She breathed deeply, inhaling a scent that was intensely clean and yet unmistakably masculine. His soap, or a subtle cologne, maybe. Or some crazy, secret pheromone designed purely to arouse the opposite sex. She wanted to rub herself all over him.

“So, do I get to ask your name?” His voice rumbled softly against her ear.

“Hmm.” She dragged her mind away from the indecent thoughts swirling through her head to concentrate on his words. “Jenna Larson.”

“Are you from around here?”

“No,” she replied, thinking of her home on Cape Cod, in Massachusetts. “Just passing through. And you?”

“Originally from Texas, currently assigned to Fort Bragg. But I guess you know that, too, huh?”

Jenna glanced at his face, but his expression gave nothing away. His good looks aside, she liked his easy smile and the warmth that lingered in his eyes when he studied her. “Actually, I didn’t know you were from Texas. But it wasn’t difficult to guess you’re in the military,” she admitted. “Just about every guy in here tonight is. All you have to do is look at the haircuts.”

The music came to an end, and Jenna reluctantly allowed Chase to lead her from the dance floor. His gaze flicked to his buddies, still congregated around the pool tables, but he didn’t make an immediate move to separate from Jenna.

“Well, thanks for the dance,” she said brightly. But when she would have stepped away, he caught her wrist. She turned back, expectant.

“Do you wanna get out of here? Find someplace a little less crowded?” His voice was low … compelling. His eyes searched hers, and Jenna felt her insides churn with anticipation.

“Maybe. What do you have in mind?”

He shrugged and his thumb rubbed the inside of her wrist. “A bottle of wine, an old army blanket and an outstanding view of the jets taking off and landing at Pope Field.” His mouth lifted in a lopsided grin. “I happen to know they’re doing night maneuvers, and I promise you, it really is spectacular to watch. We don’t even need to go on base. There’s a field beyond the perimeter that provides a great view.”

Jenna considered him closely. Was it possible he didn’t realize she was also in the military? Of course, there was no reason why he would; she looked completely ordinary in her jeans and button-down sleeveless top, with her hair loose around her shoulders, and it wasn’t as if he could see the dog tags nestled between her breasts. She couldn’t blame him for mistaking her for a civilian.

Despite the fact she’d already decided he was fair game, her instincts screamed at her to refuse his offer. He was too tempting, too confident of his own attraction. She should run as fast as she could in the opposite direction. But the expression in his eyes, combined with the seductive stroke of his finger against her skin, was doing strange things to her common sense. She could no longer remember why she should avoid getting involved with military guys, especially when this one was so damned gorgeous. Not that one night could possibly count as getting involved. After all, she’d be gone in three days. She’d never see him again. She glanced toward the bar, where Laura gave her a thumbs-up.

Chase arched an eyebrow, waiting for her response.

“Well, I do like pinot noir.”