Authors: Amy Rose Bennett
Tags: #romance historical, #romance military, #romance 1950s, #romance second chance love, #romance and erotic story
He was starting to wonder what he’d ever
seen in her.
On reaching his side, Dana curled one of her
manicured hands proprietorially around his forearm, also making him
suspect she’d seen him talking to Ginny. “Now, now, Jett honey,”
she practically purred, her voice dripping with cloying sweetness.
“I may not like the beach itself, but you looked so hang-dog when
you left this morning, I had a change of heart and thought I’d come
find you. Mommy and Daddy have a beach house just a little further
down the boardwalk and as they’re away in Europe…” She pressed her
breast against his arm as she leaned close to murmur suggestively
in his ear. “I’m sure there’s lots of other things we could do
aside from getting all wet and sandy…”
If Dana had slapped him in the face with a
wet fish, Jett would’ve been only slightly less surprised. Dana
Whitney, the twenty-year-old virginal miss was literally throwing
herself at him. Cognizant of her reputation and her family’s
high-flying position, he’d done little more than kiss her on the
few dates they’d shared. Now warning bells clanged, loud and clear.
Dana was not the kind of girl you loved and left. No, sir-ee. For
some completely unfathomable reason, it seemed Miss Whitney must
have marriage on her mind.
But he certainly didn’t. Not now.
“Dana,” he said gently and removed her hand
from his arm. “The thing is—”
“You’ve found someone else already, haven’t
you?” she accused, green eyes flashing with anger. “Don’t deny it.
I saw you flirting with that other…floozy a few minutes ago.”
“Now, Dana. She’s an old friend from
school.” He couldn’t very well deny that he hadn’t been flirting,
but Ginny certainly didn’t deserve to be a called a floozy.
“I don’t care who she is.” Dana crossed her
arms, her perfectly-plucked eyebrows arrowing into a deep scowl.
“You need to choose, Jett. Is it going to be me or her? I won’t be
two-timed.” Steam fairly poured out of her ears.
Jett sighed and ran a hand down his face. He
would have preferred breaking up with Dana in a less public place,
but she wasn’t giving him any quarter. His choice was easy though.
“You’re right, Dana. You’re a lovely girl but I’m afraid things
just aren’t going to work out between you and me—”
“You’re choosing her?” Dana shrieked, and
more than a few heads turned in their direction. “I didn’t want to
believe Mommy and Daddy,” she continued shrilly, poking him in the
chest with one, long red fingernail. “They warned me about men like
you. But they were right. Pilots are worse than sailors. You’re
probably stringing a dozen girls along in the state of New Jersey
alone. Well, you’re welcome to your polka-dotted bimbo, Jett. Good
riddance. You deserve each other.”
With that, she turned on her heel and
stalked off down the boardwalk, black curls bouncing and her skirts
swishing in time with the exaggerated sway of her hips. A fury in
yolk-yellow cotton.
Jett puffed out a sigh of relief. Even
though Dana had created a scene, he couldn’t help but feel he’d
somehow dodged a bullet. Ignoring the curious stares still directed
his way, he sprinted off toward his hotel. He only had twenty
minutes to get ready before he met up with Ginny now.
And he wasn’t going to miss that date for
the world. After his run-in with Dana, one thing was clear in his
mind—he was more certain than ever that Ginny Williams might just
be the girl for him.
***
Jett managed to make it to the orange-aide stand with
a minute to spare, but glancing around the Pavilion, he couldn’t
see Ginny yet. Or Dana, thank God. With any luck, Miss Whitney had
turned tail and was heading back to her parents’ grand house in The
Palisades.
The last thing he needed was Dana screwing
up his chances with Ginny by reinforcing her long-held perception
that he was untrustworthy. He had his battle plan sorted. But
carrying it out was dependent on Ginny turning up. He prayed she
hadn’t changed her mind.
He scanned the noisy throng of beach-goers
again but there was still no sign of Ginny’s distinctive strawberry
blonde hair. Crazy how he felt as nervous as a sixteen-year-old
about to go on his first date. With a churning stomach and sweaty
palms, he decided he actually felt worse than when he’d flown his
first sortie in Korea.
He needed to pull himself together, and
fast, because there she was, walking toward him in figure-hugging
white Capri pants and a pale blue blouse. With her thick, naturally
waving hair pulled back simply into a ponytail and not a scrap of
make-up on, she looked as fresh and beautiful as a fine summer’s
day. And when she made eye contact with him and smiled, his heart
cart-wheeled in his chest.
It was time to put Operation Ginny into
action.
***
Ginny threaded her way through the crowd in
Jenkinson’s Pavilion, pulse racing, her stomach aflutter with what
felt like a swarm of butterflies. For at least the hundredth time
she questioned herself as to why she had so readily agreed to
Jett’s suggestion. Part of it was curiosity. After all these years,
she really did want to hear what sort of an explanation he had for
his unforgiveable behavior on prom night. And no matter how hard
she tried, she couldn’t deny her strong physical attraction to him.
It was as if the man had a strange, magnetic pull on her that she
was simply unable to resist. Logic and common sense didn’t enter
into the equation where Jett Kelly Junior was concerned. They never
had and they probably never would.
Sighing in resignation, she pushed a stray
wisp of hair out of her eyes, searching for Jett’s distinctively
tall form and dark good looks amongst the small group of people
clustered around the orange-aide stand.
And then Ginny saw him and her breath
hitched and her stomach flipped like she was on the downward plunge
of a roller-coaster ride. He leaned against a white-washed wooden
post, one denim-clad, muscular leg bent casually at a slight
angle—effortlessly, jaw-droppingly handsome, dressed simply in
scuffed boots, jeans and a tight, white T-shirt that stretched
across his broad chest and wide shoulders—a living advertisement
for sex.
Yes
. That was the root of her
problem. She didn’t have unresolved feelings for Jett. He just made
her hormones go wild. That was all. Period. Ironically, she’d made
him promise not to try anything. However, it seemed she was equally
as guilty when it came to harboring lustful thoughts. But surely
she could control herself for a few hours.
If she was to retain any semblance of
self-respect, she had to.
As if sensing her approach, Jett’s hot-blue
gaze settled on her and without conscious thought, her mouth
immediately curved into a silly smile. The smile of a love-struck
teenage girl.
So much for staying in control
.
“Hey,” he called and pushed away from the
post. His answering smile was soft. “I’m really glad you came.”
Ginny swallowed, willing herself to stay
strong. “You were worried I wouldn’t?”
He smiled sheepishly. Disarmingly. “Well, to
be perfectly honest, yes,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck
and she couldn’t help but notice the considerable bulge of his
biceps as his arm moved. “You don’t have much reason to trust me,
given my track record. I’d have understood if you’d changed your
mind.”
Oh, he was smooth, Ginny would give him
that. But despite her wariness and cynicism, she would make the
effort to hear him out. “I will admit that you’ve piqued my
interest,” she conceded, then immediately regretted her choice of
words. His interest was clearly piqued also, but perhaps for a
different reason. His intent gaze, the way it wandered over her
face, traced over her lips before returning to her eyes, made her
blush hotly. Made her forget what she wanted to say next. She
swallowed nervously and glanced away. Tongue-tied. She hated
feeling so awkward. Completely unlike her usual, clinical,
in-control self. Desperately, she clutched at words, any words.
Focus on the mundane, the practical.
“Perhaps we could get
something to eat first—”
“My thoughts exactly. What do you feel
like?”
You.
Sweet Lord. Where had that come
from? The word was on the tip of Ginny’s tongue and she had to bite
her lip to stop it slipping it out. Again, she glanced around the
Pavilion, looking anywhere but Jett’s disconcerting blue eyes.
There was a luncheonette, a seafood restaurant and a hot dog stand
nearby. “A hot dog and a root beer,” she blurted out, then
practically skittered away from Jett toward the stand, scrabbling
in her purse for her wallet. She felt Jett’s hand on her bare arm
and her heart skipped a beat.
“It’s on me, Ginny,” he murmured near her
ear, his voice low. “It’s the least I can do.”
Oh boy
. She certainly wasn’t going to
think about
the most
he could do for her
.
If Ginny
could have ordered a regular beer right now, to extinguish the
flash of heat coursing through her body, she would have. She needed
to calm down, and fast, before she really did or said something
embarrassing.
The next few minutes however afforded her
some much needed respite from untoward thoughts as orders were
placed, and food and drinks were handed over. Armed with a hot dog
and an ice-cold bottle of root beer, Ginny then followed Jett out
onto the boardwalk and took a seat beside him, underneath an
umbrella shaded table. Pleased that she had managed to spend a
whole five minutes cool and composed, and that Jett had continued
to behave with the utmost decorum, she tucked into her hot dog and
took in the view of the beach before her, happy to let
companionable silence stretch between them.
“So…” Jett set aside his napkin and root
beer, then focused his attention back on her. “I only just recently
heard—courtesy of my mother—that you were a surgical nurse
stationed at one of the MASH Units.” His expression was serious and
perhaps there was even a touch of admiration in his gaze. “Pretty
heavy stuff, Ginny.”
Ginny shrugged but what could she say? He
was right. It was heavy stuff and she was still coming to terms
with everything she had seen and done, but in the end, she was
proud of her tenacity in such a grueling and oftentimes nightmarish
situation. And she was one of the lucky ones. Not a day didn’t go
by that she thanked God for having remained physically unscathed.
Unlike Charlie, and all the others she’d seen die when medical
treatment hadn’t been enough. “I was a lieutenant with the
8063
rd
,” she said simply. “And my husband, Charlie…he
was a surgeon with the 8076
th
…”
Jett’s brows knitted together in a frown and
he caught her gaze. “My sincere condolences to you. I’m sorry I
didn’t offer them before…at the beach. I was just so surprised to
see you, after such a long time.”
“Thanks.” Ginny looked back at the shore,
resisting the urge to cry. Instead, she focused on the antics of a
nearby group of children squealing with delight as they poured
buckets of water over their sandcastle. She appreciated Jett’s
gesture, but any offer of sympathy usually brought on tears. Even
now she could feel the hot sting of them and her vision misted. She
blinked again and swallowed to alleviate the constriction in her
throat before attempting to speak again. “I was surprised to see
you too. Although my grandmother did tell me you were a pilot with
the air force. I guess the gossip grapevine is still alive and
flourishing in Ridgewood, if nothing else.” She met his gaze and
managed a small smile. “You’re a captain I presume?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled back. “I was with
the 94
th
Fighter Squadron, flying the F86-Sabre.”
A fighter jock well and truly. Ginny was
quietly impressed. “You must have won more than your fair share of
dog-fights then.”
Jett took another slug of his root beer then
shrugged. “As you would know, you do what you need to do to get
through. And there were occasions when a good dose of luck played a
part as well.”
Ginny nodded in agreement then took another
sip of her own beer, taking a moment to reflect on what Jett had
just said—and to be grateful that she was simply alive and sitting
here safe and sound at the beach on such a beautiful day. It seemed
they had more in common than she’d anticipated. But it shouldn’t
really surprise her that sharing such intense, albeit slightly
different experiences would engender a budding feeling of
camaraderie. It was only natural after all.
That was how she and Charlie had connected
so quickly. In fact, they’d gotten engaged within four weeks of
meeting and married soon after. But then, after only a handful of
conjugal meetings, he’d been killed. As awful as it sounded, there
was some truth in what her mother had said earlier this morning.
Sometimes Ginny even wondered if her marriage had ever really
happened, that she had imagined the whole thing. It some ways, it
felt like someone else’s life.
She sighed heavily and brushed away a tear
from the corner of her eye. “Unfortunately luck wasn’t on Charlie’s
side.”
Jett didn’t comment, just waited for her to
continue. Or not. She was grateful for his empathetic silence. He
would have lost friends too.
“He was killed during a patient transfer
from his unit to the 8063
rd
,” she eventually said. “The
ambulance was hit by a mortar attack soon after they left. They
weren’t that far from the Front. We’d only been married for two
months. So I guess you could say my marriage was over before it
ever really began.”
Jett reached forward and covered her hand
with his and squeezed gently. “That’s rough, Ginny.”
“Yeah…it was for a while.” Ginny let herself
enjoy the feel of Jett’s strong hand holding hers. It offered
reassurance and moreover—it showed he understood. “I could have
been discharged home at that point but I opted to stay on. I told
myself I was a good nurse and I still had something to offer, when
I guess what I was really doing was burying myself in my work. But
like you said, Jett, you do what you need to do to get by.”