Awaken to Danger (20 page)

trusted him that much yet.

Shoot, she wasn't sure she trusted
herself that
much. None of which she needed to think about now

anyway.

The cargo planes slowed to a stop, side stairs and back hatches lowering until each clanked on the

ground. The high noon sun reflected off the lumbering beasts. People packed the bleachers and milled

around at the side, excited chatter the common denominator.

How many of these had she waited through, waiting for her dad, holding her mom's hand tight like now?

How many more might she wait through for Carson? He stood to the side with the rest of the squadron at

attention as the cargo hold full of green-suited bodies came into view.

First down the ramp, a stretcher carrying Bronco. He'd made it through surgery, surprising everyone with

his sturdy constitution by being cleared for transport to come home with his squadron. Never leave your

wingman.

He would spend a couple more weeks in the hospital here, but with his doctor wife to keep him on his

toes, he would be fine. Joker strode beside him with his arm in a sling, his free arm extended for his

fiancée.

Yet even with the smiles there remained an underlying solemnity for the missing man. Gabby's body had

already been flown to the small Maine town where he and his wife had been high school sweethearts.

The base had held a memorial ceremony that left her hands trembling, even now just remembering.

And then from the middle of the mayhem emerged her burly father, big and alive, someone she'd

alternately adored and resented all her life, depending on which country he parked himself in at the end of

the day.

She liked to think she was past those childhood hang-ups, but couldn't ignore how messed up her life had

become lately. She hated to think that her crush on Carson had been some sad father-figure deal. Ugh.

Regardless, she knew her feelings for Carson were anything but familial.

Her father pulled back from Rena and turned to his two adult children, little Jamie scooped up in one

arm.

"Hey, Daddy." Nikki stepped into his open arm. "Welcome home."

"Thanks, baby girl." He dropped a kiss on top of her head, a quiet stalwart man who somehow still left

such a void of silence when he was away.

She blinked back tears she refused to let mar this homecoming and stepped aside. Rena returned to

J.T.'s side, so much love humming between them, Nikki inched farther away to give them more space

even in public.

Her mind winged back to her father's return nearly two years ago after being shot down and captured,

how her heart had been in her throat waiting for Carson, too. By letting Carson into her bed, yes, she

was entertaining ideas of forever. She couldn't ignore it. Some folks had a more casual approach to sex,

and that was fine by her, but for her life, she simply wasn't wired that way.

She was well-equipped for military life, she understood it, she'd lived it. She knew all the jargon,

headaches,
heartaches
—the joys, as well. Yes, she could handle this with her hands tied behind her

back.

But did she
want
to spend the rest of her life waiting on a tarmac with tears in her eyes?

Carson hated waiting. And waiting to get Nikki alone this week had been hell.

Only a couple more hours until duty could be placed on the back burner for the night. First, he had to

finish in-processing the returning squadron members—paperwork, customs, turn in medical records and

equipment while the families passed time at an informal gathering inside the squadron briefing room.

Not much longer and things would wind down. He strode through the corridor from his office back

toward the buzz of voices. A door swung wide from the public bathroom. He dodged, just as Nikki

stepped out.

Thank you.
A reward at the end of a killer week.

He stepped closer without touching. "Hey you."

She smiled back. "Hey
you."

"I've been going crazy this week wanting to see you." He advanced again.

Nikki stayed put, her smile full but her eyes...sad? "I understand you're busy."

Did she want space? Jesus, he was thirty-five years old, way past college-type dating scenes. Honesty. If

they didn't go with that, then they were screwed.

He cupped her elbow and ducked into his office, door still open but out of the mainstream of nosy folks.

Clear for the moment, he allowed himself to move closer, near enough to exchange body heat as he

flattened his hand on the wall behind her. "Just because I'm busy doesn't mean I'm not thinking about

you."

Her smile filled her eyes now, too, breezily confident Nikki meeting him one for one. On a sexual level

they were able to communicate openly. "And what did you think about when I crossed your mind?"

While they were being honest... "You usually crossed my mind naked."

"Totally?"

"Would it be piggish of me if you were only wearing heels?"

"Do-me pumps? Hmm... I may own a pair."

"Really?" He couldn't disguise his surprise. She'd never been much for heels, but then her barefoot appeal

turned him inside out more than any other woman in stilettos ever could.

"No, I don't." Her grin went downright wicked. "But I will by this weekend."

He let his growl of appreciation rumble up and out as finally he got to be near her again. "How much

longer until we can be alone?"

"What color?"

"Color?"

"Heels." Just below his neck, she toyed with the tab on his uniform zipper. "Since I'm shopping you can

put in your order. Red or black? What's your pleasure?"

"You." He canted closer, a whisper away from her lips glistening with a gloss he would have to kiss off

soon. He ducked his head close to her ear to whisper, "And I very much want to be your pleasure once

we're out on the ocean, away from the rest of the world, no heels, no clothes, no outside worries. I wish

it was summer so I could love you on the deck, out in the open, kissing every inch of your body while the

sun does the same."

Her hot, panting breaths puffed over him. "Close the door. Now. Five minutes. Nobody'll miss us."

His brain fogged with possibilities of what they could accomplish in five minutes.

"Scorch?" a bass voice echoed down the hall.

He hadn't even heard anyone approaching. Jesus, he was far gone. Carson jerked, kicking himself for

being reckless with Nikki's reputation and glancing back over his shoulder to look at...

The father of the woman he was just propositioning.

Gulp. Carson braced. "Yes, sir?"

J.T. frowned, stayed silent.

Sir.
Crap. Carson's hand fisted on the door. He, a major, had just called a chief master sergeant
sir.

Officers did not call enlisted troops
sir.

But a man sure as hell said
sir
to the father of his girlfriend. So much for waiting for the perfect time to

logically explain about his relationship with Nikki.

They were so...

So...

Busted.

She was so busted.

Three hours later tucking her little brother into bed, Nikki knew the confrontation was coming, even if her

father had pretended nothing was wrong at the time. A quick unspoken agreement had zipped between

the two men as readable as any newspaper.

No scenes at the squadron. Not a surprise since she'd lived her life being told to wear her best face on

base. Be a good reflection of her father. She knew the drill.

Carson had backed away, his sexy proposition still echoing in her mind and pulsing heat through her

veins. They'd returned to the gathering as if nothing happened—except that her dad had stuck to her side

like glue until they drove home.

She tucked the Bob the Builder sheets around her little brother in his new race car toddler bed. He

already snoozed away on his stomach, diapered butt up in the air under the quilted spread.

She glanced over her shoulder at her mom in a rocker with her swollen feet propped on the edge of the

mattress. Nikki settled on the remaining patch of bed, next to her mother's puffy toes. "Are you sure you

don't want me to keep him up at the apartment so you and Dad can have the run of the house?"

Rena patted her rounded stomach. "I'm not so sure we'll be doing any running, but we may take you up

on the babysitting service for an afternoon sometime soon. For tonight, I think Jamie needs routine and to

be near his daddy."

She totally understood and agreed. "People say kids are flexible, but I see in the classroom all the time

how they thrive on structure."

"There's so much about the military way of life that's not normal for kids, I've always tried to keep what I

could constant."

"I turned out okay for the most part." Other than a dead ex-boyfriend.

"I hope so." Rena nudged Nikki's hip with her crossed feet. "We're certainly proud of you."

"Thanks. I'm trying my best, even if I screw up."

All that water retention in her mother's toes tugged at Nikki's heart as she thought of the grief she'd

brought during an already stressful time. She may not have actually wielded whatever bashed in Gary's

skull, but she'd been on a self-destructive path for months.

Could she trust her judgment to have magically improved now? "I'm sorry I've caused you and Dad so

much heartache the past few months."

Her mother studied her through perceptive eyes, taking a slow swallow from her glass of ice water while

a couple of trucks growled along the deserted night road outside. "Do you want to tell me what

happened to send you into such a tail-spin last spring?"

"Not really. Sorry." Telling would only make her mother upset with Carson when their relationship was

about to become public. Really public, if the frozen tension on her father's face was anything to go by.

She should say something to her father before bed, even though she and Carson had discussed speaking

with her father in the morning. Her mother wouldn't be surprised. She must suspect from how much time

Carson had been spending around the house.

Had she known before? That "Mom Radar" was a spooky, perceptive thing.

Nikki refused to fidget like a kid. She was an adult. She didn't need her parents' permission, but she

didn't want to make things tough at work for Carson or her dad. "I should let you go so you and Dad can

enjoy your reunion."

Rena showed no signs of budging from her comfy spot. "I can talk a little while longer. Your father's busy

for the moment anyway."

"Busy?" Uh-oh. Premonition trickled down her spine like the beads of condensation on her mother's

glass.

"He's out on the porch waiting to talk to Scorch."

"Sir,
huh."

The sardonic words from an obviously pissed off papa echoed across the lawn as Carson opened his

truck door in the Price driveway. Looming on the porch, J.T. pinned him with a shotgun-father look as

piercing as any bullet, illuminated all too clearly by the lamppost.

Carson finished stepping from his truck, not at all surprised to find J.T. waiting for him. They'd both

known he would come by, an unspoken agreement.

At least the irate father hadn't made a scene at the squadron in front of everyone, because Carson damn

well wouldn't have stood for Nikki's name being tossed around. As if she hadn't already been through

enough gossip lately.

Thank God, her father apparently felt the same.

But now, after all the welcome-home partying was done, there was no more evading the question that

had dogged the man's eyes throughout the evening.

"About that 'sir' thing..." Carson climbed the front steps, meeting J.T. face-to-face. "You caught me

unaware. My nanny ingrained in me young to respect my elders."

"Elders?" Biceps flexed inside his flight suit. "You're really not getting on my good side today…
sir.
And

I'm thinking it's important to you to be on my good side."

No-damn-kidding. Nikki was tight with her family, one of the many things he respected about her, and he

refused to cause friction in the Price household. "I don't want to cause your daughter any grief and if

you're upset that would upset
her
very much."

A vein pulsed in J.T.'s temple, a bad sign from such a usually laid-back guy. "Is there something going on

with you and my baby girl?"

Baby girl?

Carson exhaled a long stream of cloudy air. He was definitely too old for this. But then he was dating a

much younger woman, and hell, he wished his own parents had given a crap about his sister. He

searched for the right words, the whole tongue-tied feeling completely alien for him, but then choosing the

right words had never felt so important.

J.T. stepped closer, nose to nose and apparently more than a little miffed at Carson's extended silence.

"Sir,
I'm finding it hard to remember you're an officer. I'm finding it even tougher not to kick your ass off

my porch."

"Go ahead. I was the one who peeled away the rank in there when I called you
sir."

"It's one thing if you're seriously dating, but if you're using her—"