Awaken to Danger (14 page)

right so I have a chance at moving forward?"

Jansen leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "There's no secret answer other than every woman is

different. Quit trying to charge ahead with what you think she needs and just listen."

Another A.A. technique he should have figured out for himself.

Flipping his wrist to check his watch, Jansen winced. "I gotta make tracks." He shoved to his feet. "Give

me a call anytime. Okay?"

"Will do."

Jansen paused by the door. "Hey, Carson?"

"What?"

"Good luck." The lumbering vet smirked.

"I'm going to need it figuring this lady out."

"That isn't what I meant." Jansen shook his head slowly. "I meant good luck, because Nikki Price's father

is totally going to kick your officer ass."

Great. Just what every guy wanted to hear as he reached for the phone to call a woman.

* * *

curiously excited idiot.

She'd looked forward to this outing since Carson called her yesterday and asked her to lunch. His

invitation had quickly distracted her from the disappointment of learning the surveillance cameras at the

school had been angled wrong to catch any helpful information about the vandalism to her little track.

The planked path forked, one way snaking to the back bar and marina, the other route leading to the

front entrance of the restaurant where she was
not
going on a date. Just meeting Carson at

Beachcombers for a meal to help joggle more memories free. Regardless, thanks to a new set of tires on

her Ranger providing transportation, she now stood outside Beachcombers.

She tromped up the steps to the sprawling wraparound porch that usually buzzed with conversation from

the diners, but sported only sparse smokers in the cooler climate. Her stomach cramped with nerves,

even more from the prospect of seeing Carson.

Pushing through the heavy door, she searched the crush of people in the wide hallway, a waiting area

complete with gift shop stalls and cubbies. She weaved through the melee, the lunch crowd mirroring the

weekend gang, but with a subdued workday air.

For the first time, she noticed the wide age range. She'd always been so focused on her friends—and

yeah, the fly-boys—she hadn't noticed how many retirees frequented the place, as well. Were they

around on the weekends, too? She would have to pay closer attention.

Flipping her wrist, she glanced at her Minnie Mouse watch. The second hand clicked past Minnie's

glove.

Fifteen minutes early.

So much for appearing blasé. But she wasn't into game playing this go-round. She would be herself,

totally—mast climbing, sarcophagus building, notoriously early Nikki Price.

Still no sign of Carson, but any number of crises at the squadron could have delayed him. She refused to

turn into a quivering mass. He wouldn't be that important to her ever again.

Still, nerves whipped around in her stomach faster than Minnie's second hand. Nikki fidgeted with the

new gift shop items filling shelves along the waiting area walls—handpainted T-shirts, seashell ornaments

with Charleston's historic Rainbow Row inked

in miniature. She mentally filed away craft ideas for her classroom during local history week. Her gaze

settled on glazed sand dollars sporting a sticker of a C-17—the cargo plane flown by Carson.

Sheesh. Everything didn't have to be about Carson. Her dad and countless friends flew that same craft.

"May I help you with something?"

Nikki jolted and looked over her shoulder to find Beachcombers' proprietor, Claire McDermott. "Did

you design these?"

Claire neatened the hanging racks of stenciled canvas bags in perfect descending order of largest to

smallest. "My sister Starr did. I do most of the cooking, but we're short staffed out front today, so here I

am. Our other sister handles the bookkeeping." She straightened her apron on curvy hips Nikki had

finally given up on ever developing by the end of high school. "It's a family effort we hope will pay off."

"From the crush today, it sure seems so."

No wonder Carson with his lack of family connection ate here so often, even moored his boat in the

area. She wondered if that might be why he'd spent time with her before, because she came with a

family. And man that sucked, wondering if you were liked because of your parents and brother. Or if he

preferred curvy types like Claire.

Nikki stomped down feelings and thoughts that too closely resembled the insecure idiot she'd been over

Carson months before. The present carried enough problems.

She could see the questions in Claire's eyes that she was too polite to ask about what happened a week

ago. The woman had to be frustrated at even the least association with the scandal.. .yet the place was

buzzing with activity. Sometimes bad press could be better for business than no press at all.

Claire's attention shifted beyond her. Bustling around the counter with brisk efficiency, she passed Nikki

a pamphlet. "Here's a list of our upcoming performers in the bar, and don't miss the discount coupons on

the bottom."

The woman disappeared into the milling customers, emerging on the other side near two men who

seemed familiar...

Nikki shook her hands loose trying to relax for a memory to shimmer free. The shorter man wore a

backward baseball cap and sports jersey. The other man loomed taller and burly in a plaid shirt.

The image gelled in her brain. Both men had met up with Carson that night out in the parking lot. Ball-cap

dude, she didn't know. But the man in the plaid shirt was Bo Rokowsky's brother-in-law. What was the

guy's name? Vic something-or-another.

A tingling started up her spine, a shift in the air, an awareness that Carson had arrived even though she

hadn't seen him yet and no, no, no she didn't want that kind of surreal connection.

Maybe the feeling was—

There he was. Carson. Tall, slim and golden blond, his tan deep from a lifetime outside. She wished she

could remember his tan line, but there had been covers by that point.

Whoops. Dangerous territory for her thoughts, especially in public. She glanced back up to his lean face,

features angular and tense, phone pressed to his ear while he searched the crowd for...

Her.

Dimples creased—because of her. He nodded his hello from across the room as he continued to speak

into his phone and make his way toward her. The tingle increased to an all-over body flush. Just a casual

get-together?

She wasn't fooling anybody, most especially herself.

Only a fool would risk going out with this woman, but Carson had learned long ago, the word fit for him

every time he came near Nikki.

Except he wouldn't sacrifice common sense and safety even though the whole meal had tempted him to

toss both out the back hatch. At least they'd accomplished something at lunch, compiling a joint list of

people they remembered Owens hanging out with, hoping they would recall something overlooked

initially.

He'd insisted on following her home even though, yeah, she'd driven over on her own. Maybe he simply

wanted their time together to last longer and it really wasn't that far out of his way. Lunch with her had

been so natural and easy, too natural. In the past there had been the boundary of her crush, something

that most definitely put him in an older man role. Now they met on more equal footing, even though she

wore a Minnie Mouse watch that for some reason he found endearing as hell.

Slowing outside the Price home, he pulled up on the curb behind her car, a perfect reminder of those

slashed tires. No matter how tough and toned she appeared, she was still vulnerable to creeps who

drugged drinks and tore her clothes.

The urge to protect pumped through his veins, thrummed in his ears, damn near blinding him. He could

tell himself all day long to ease off the protector role because Nikki was strong, but in practice, she meant

too much to him for him to be anywhere but by her side.

He blinked his vision clear and stepped from his truck just as she slid from hers, one slim leg at a time.

Jeans never looked so good slung low on her slim hips, her jacket open to reveal a fuzzy sweater, bottom

button undone to reveal a hint of skin.

Carson met her at her open truck door. "I'm sorry I was late for our lunch."

"You weren't late." She gripped the open door, Minnie Mouse waving from her wrist. "I was early, and I

know things are insane at the squadron right now."

"Well, I wish I could have picked you up. Next time..."

Wind rustled pine needles from the trees overhead and lifted her hair while she chewed her lip and finally

released the kissable fullness, slowly. "Next time."

There would be a next time.

Yes.

He covered her hand with his on the open door. "No new memories today?"

"Spotty stuff, mostly of when you and I talked." She scuffed her shoe through the dead grass, drawing his

attention to her jean-clad legs—as if he needed an excuse. "I, uh, watched you walk away and meet up

with two other guys."

Vic Jansen and Gary Owens's sponsor, on their way to a support meeting for families of addicts, not just

alcoholics, but a catchall group. He couldn't tell her that, though, without breaking confidence. "Do you

remember anything else?"

"Not really. It never works when I want it too much." Her gray eyes clouded, seeming wider when she

didn't blink, just studied him until he wondered if they were still discussing lost hours a week ago.

"Then let's stop forcing the issue." He circled a finger along Minnie, then around to Nikki's wrist. "You

said relaxing helps, so just let things happen."

Although a relaxed Nikki might be more temptation than he could handle.

"Okay, I have a question that's really been plaguing me." Her eyebrows pinched together with serious

intensity that set him on edge.

"Sure, go ahead."

She tipped her head to the side, her hair teasing along his wrist. "Why haven't you named your boat yet?"

Tension rode out along his laugh. Relax. Right. Linking his fingers with hers, he slid their hands off the

door into a true clasp rather than the sort-of-resting-here deal.

Tugging her forward, he reached past to close her door. "Naming a boat is like naming a new aviator."

"What do you mean?" She kept her hand in his.

Encouraging.

Arousing.

And so damn right he didn't let go.

"Well, for example, Lieutenant Avery is bucking for a call sign to replace Bambi, but we've got to wait

for the watershed event."

"Like your flaming Dr Pepper moment when you scorched your mustache in a bar."

Now there was a splash of reality. "Exactly. A watershed event that sums up a person."

As if sensing his darkening mood, she stepped away even if she didn't release his hand. "I imagine you

need to get back to the squadron."

"I've got another minute." He should have returned a half hour ago to tackle rewrites on performance

reports and promotion recommendations, review and sign check-ride forms, all before the Wing Staff

meeting at fifteen hundred.

He wasn't sure what he was doing standing here with Nikki. Even if he could see his way clear to risking

a more serious relationship, he was scared spitless of marriage, and he couldn't even wrap his head

around the whole father-kid deal. He could almost hear Vic Jansen laughing at him again since he kept

gravitating right back to commitment thoughts.

One day at a time.

"Would you like to go boating again this weekend? Your dad will be home to look after your mom." And

holy hell, he would somehow have to explain to J. T. Price why he was seeing the man's daughter when

the guy expressly didn't want flyboys for his baby girl. No doubt, Ivy League, officer fly-boys would fall

even lower down the list for the practical values of the crusty chief master sergeant.

Carson stroked his missing mustache. He would just have to get the guy alone and ease the news into the

conversation.

They had a mutual respect for each other from shared crew experiences and POW hell.

"Boating?" Nikki asked, bringing him back to the moment.

Before he worried about talking to J.T., Nikki needed to agree.

"My plate will be clearer. We could moor up in a cove for lunch, maybe go ashore and backpack around

for the day."

Her hand stilled, frozen like her blanked face. "Go boating to relax and take my mind off of Owens and

my pathetic employment situation?"

"To spend time together. If that's okay."

Slack jawed for a painfully long second, she blinked fast. "Yeah, I think it is. As a matter of fact I'm sure

it is." Her grin widened. "Although this time it's my turn to bring the food."

He liked the idea of her feeding him, him feeding her back, on the bow of his boat in the middle of the

summer in a secluded bay where they could soak up the sun and each other....

Time to pull his mind off that fantasy, awesome though it was. And what was he doing having summer

thoughts, months away? What had happened to taking things with Nikki one day at a time?