Hard Way (27 page)

“More than that,” Eric said, having assumed a loose fighting stance, “I’d bet a shot at Sunny’s sweet ass that she thinks you have it wrong too.”

“You don’t get to look at her ass, my friend. Let alone bet on having a piece of it.”

“A grope. Would be worth taking you on for the chance.”

“I’d come out bloody, but you’d wind up on your back without knowing what hit you.”

“Nah, that’s what I do with chicks. On their backs. Dazed and happy for the privilege.”

“You are such an asshole.” Dash tried not to let Eric’s stray comments fire up distracting thoughts of when Sunny hit the sparring mat, and what those takedowns signaled.

“Some luck into it. Some fight for it. You get to do both.”

“Great.”

He changed into Super Pilot again as more people approached the booth, but he still had time to shoot one last stinger over his shoulder. “You better fucking believe that.”

Half the day later, Dash had sweat through his shirt and was in dangerous need of food. Eric had left the booth to him.
We’ll trade off in twenty,
he’d said. That was two hours ago.

Murder him. Yup. Kisser would deserve it—if only for shaking Dash up and leaving him with his thoughts and a lot of forced cheer. At least he’d gotten his speech down pat. Nod, talk about the work, nod some more, answer questions, then politely cut them off by handing over the informational literature before he ran out of patience.

“Here,” he said to a dad whose son couldn’t have been older than sixteen. “I’m sure this brochure will give you a good idea of what we’re about, and dates and times for the next formal presentations. In the meantime, one of my colleagues will be flying his F-16 at 1800 hours. Don’t miss it.”

The pair disappeared into the crowd. The chair was tempting because his feet were numb, but he couldn’t sit when he was the only airman manning the booth. He wondered if Eric would be back in time to relieve him for food and a piss before he took to the skies.

“Hey,” came a feminine voice.

Dash spun and found Sunny sitting in his chair.

She looked like a prosecutor ready to tear a witness a new one. Cool, collected, but intent on drawing blood. “I brought food.”

“Because that worked so well last time?”

Her eyes flashed, but she managed to keep her mouth civilly shaped into that enigmatic smile. “No, because Eric hasn’t been back for an hour, at least.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

The shrug looked wrong, considering the sharp neatness of her pale linen skirt and trim-fitting blouse. “Hard to see the real you when you know I’m looking.”

“What’s that mean?”

Her beige flats were lined up with perfect precision. Nervous, but apparently not so nervous as to spill her guts. And she called
him
the one with two faces.

“So, what was that little display at the
dojo
?”

The anger he’d felt came rushing back. He’d been so deflated. Her reaction… He hadn’t seen that coming at all. “It wasn’t an intentional display. It wasn’t some trick to force my Y chromosomes into your life.”

She stood so quickly, so stiffly, that he thought she might topple. But Sunita Christiansen never toppled—unless she was zip tied around the knees. Hell, maybe that’s why she liked it so much, and why he liked doing it to her. To unnerve her. To turn her into something other than the Ice Queen.

“Never mind.” She left a takeout bag on the chair. “I know you might not be able to eat it outright while you’re on duty, but…whatever.”

“Sunny.”

She stopped, her back turned toward the booth’s rear exit.

Dash inhaled. “Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow? A real date. Gambling and dinner and a night at a hotel.”

She turned, wearing a frown that even disjointed her smile. “Why? Why now? I leave Sunday night. We’re ten seconds from done, and you finally want to do something spontaneous.”

“We’re not ten seconds from done, and it’s not spontaneous. I already made the reservations.”

Her surprise was revealed in an audible intake of breath before she put herself back together. The difference was subtle, but he knew her cues, if not how her mind worked. “Why?”

“I’m celebrating. Turns out Fang doesn’t want me flying to Canada in the morning.”

Chin lifted, she stared him down. “That was a possibility and you didn’t tell me?”

“I requested a reassignment. I didn’t want to leave while we were…” He waved his hand in the space between them. “With all the
this
. I didn’t want to get your hopes up or make you anxious for no reason, not until I knew. Monday morning, Fang put Kisser in my place. Forgive me if the last couple days haven’t made me eager to explain all that. We’ve been pissed off. Turns out I’m on mandatory two weeks’ leave as of this evening.” He pinched his lips together then decided to go for broke. “I want to celebrate. Come with me?”

She didn’t nod so much as free him from her thick, assessing stare. Maybe he was reading too much into how she shifted her shoulders. It seemed as if she’d centered a heavy weight so she could bear it a little longer. “Let me think about it.”

It was his turn to stare. He wanted to memorize her well enough to ease the hurt if this month had been for nothing—if eight years had been for nothing. “Clock’s ticking, Sunny,” he said quietly. “Don’t take too long.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Sunny had seen her husband in a suit before. It had happened. For their wedding he’d worn a tux. He’d taken her breath away as she’d walked up the aisle on her father’s arm. That they’d consented to let her marry in the western style had been quite a surprise. They’d finally come around to see that Liam was a good man, although Colonel Gene had seen fit to comment on her red wedding dress. White was the color of mourning in India, and she sure as hell hadn’t had anything to mourn back then—except for a slightly unfortunate father-in-law.

Her overwhelming memory had been Liam and the way he’d looked at her, as if no angel could ever be lovelier. Whenever she was sad and tired and sitting alone, whether finishing up her degree or enduring Liam’s absence, she took out that memory and examined it from every side. Every breath. Every step down that long, long aisle.

Most of the time, those memories had kept her happy. Warm. Not safe—because as long as he was flying over foreign lands, there was no such thing. But at least she could sleep.

This would be another such moment.

She’d gotten ready for their date in the bedroom. Woman’s prerogative. Dash spent the time in the half bath and knocking around the office. She hadn’t been able to think of that room without recalling the not-so-ordinary Tuesday evening following their Yakshagana date. He’d forced her to her knees, wedged her into the corner between the wall and filing cabinet, then fucked her mouth. He hadn’t needed to use his hands to hold her head in place, just the tight confines and the force of his hips.

As a result, she hadn’t let her thoughts stray to what he must be doing in there.

The answer was both innocuous and amazing. Getting dressed, yeah. But he was wearing an immaculate charcoal gray suit over a slim-cut vest. This was no polo-shirt-and-Dockers combo. That skinny, dark blue tie had not come from Sears. The outfit emphasized his lean, tall build and the way he…loomed over her in the hallway. Delicious.

Her nipples tightened as heat unfurled deep in her belly. “You went all out.”

“So did you.” He came near enough to scoop a hand low around her waist. He brushed a kiss over her temple. Goose bumps washed out over her skin. “You look beautiful. You always do.”

The tiny hairs across the back of her neck stood on edge in that way she had learned to anticipate. The way she was kind of coming to love. Oh, fuck—no
kind of
. She adored the wicked things Dash did to her, especially when he combined it with this aching sweetness. “You have…
plans
for tonight. I can tell.”

He guided her inexorably down the hallway to their front door. “Yes. I have plans.”

She narrowed her eyes as they stepped outside, but she let him hand her into his Evo and shut the door. There was something undeniable about him tonight. He was on fire, simmering and charged beneath the surface. His muscles and ligaments and his whole being rushed with a power she couldn’t identify—but she was feeding off it too.

She tucked her hands under her thighs, between the leather upholstery and her silk dress. Too much energy. A fine tremble overtook her as he slipped into the driver’s seat and pointed the Evo toward downtown.

She watched him. “Naughty plans?”

His mouth curved up, but he didn’t look away from the road. “Those too.”

She sat back. Two could play that game. “Okay.”

“Okay? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“You have plans. That’s enough for me.”

It really was. She didn’t know what he was doing, or where he was taking them and…she didn’t care. He’d put an enormous amount of thought into this. Fuck, he’d gone shopping for a suit, because he sure as hell hadn’t owned something so gorgeous a month ago. She’d worn her best silk dress, aqua blue with a high keyhole neckline and a hem that skimmed only a couple inches below her ass. They were part of the pretty people, and she let herself into the fantasy that it would last.

The night started with a very expensive dinner at a place she’d heard mentioned by Representative Rueland. Tiny portions of food melted in Sunny’s mouth while their conversation snapped along like movie dialogue. Just…
fun
. It was as if by silent agreement they’d put all the bad in a box and buried it somewhere neither would find. Not that evening.

The pretty people used valet services, apparently. Dash pulled up to the back entrance of The Golden Nugget and put the Evo in park.

“You’re letting someone take the keys of your precious car?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. I know. I don’t think it quite counts as a miracle.”

The valet opened her door, and she met Dash on the sidewalk. The lights were bright like shining bronze. Heat pressed in on her back until they escaped into the casino. There, air conditioning kept the reality of Vegas at bay.

She looped her arm through his and leaned in close. “You do realize that twenty-something-year-old valet with blow-dried hair is behind the wheel of a fine, fine automobile I’ve never driven?”

His eyebrows rose. “You wanted to? I didn’t realize.”

“I don’t know if I wanted to.”

He pulled her away from foot traffic. “Sunny.”

“It’s not even that big a deal. I’m just noticing things that I’m lacking when they pop up. Like when I wanted you to help me with my hair.”

He took her hands in his and lifted her knuckles to his lips. The kiss he brushed across her skin sent more trembles up her arms. She was such a mess. His pale blue eyes were so intense that she wanted to revel in them forever.

How the hell did she reconcile this version of Liam with the guy who’d been slumping around the air show? That had been Dash. Plain and simple, except without the flashing smiles and shuck-and-jive attitude. In uniform, he’d looked miserable.

He wasn’t now—when apologizing, of all things—and he hadn’t been when teaching those little kids. His attempt to explain it had been confusing and half-assed. However bullshit his motives, he’d loved standing at the head of that class.

Just like he seemed to love being there with her.

“I’m sorry as hell that I’ve never noticed.” He kissed the backs of her hands again. His next kiss fluttered softly over the inside of her wrist. “I notice now. I notice everything about you.”

She swallowed against a knot in her throat. “I believe it.”

But she didn’t want to wallow in dark, uncertain places. Whereas Fang had put Liam on mandatory leave, Rueland hadn’t been so understanding.
I need you to be here, Sunita,
he’d said. Jake had reaffirmed the importance of her return. They were even scheduled to take the same flight to DC. That meant the decision—
the
decision—was hers alone.

She managed to smile at the handsome man who was still her husband. It wasn’t just a matter of putting his pieces together. She was shattered too. She had no idea anymore what she wanted.

“Don’t tell me you brought me here to moon at me.”

“Moon at you?” His laugh was sharp. He stepped close enough that she was washed over with the subtle scent of cologne. He’d worn that cologne the night he threw her into the Evo’s trunk. Christ, what a contrast. “
Moon
at you? Watch it, woman. I don’t moon. I appreciate.”

“That makes me sound like wine.”

“A fine one. A really expensive bottle.” He turned her around and pushed her toward a knot of people who cheered loudly around a gaming table. “But come on. We’ve got to pay off that dinner first. My credit card melted.”

“No way. That’s craps.”

“I know,” he replied with relish. He nudged her up to the bar until they found a spot. Standing behind her, he bracketed her hips with his hands. The light touch made her shiver. He leaned past her to put a hundred bucks on the table. “Change, please.”

The dealer nodded and swiftly replaced the two bills with a small stack of chips. “Certainly, sir.”