Explosive Alliance (19 page)

"Naked sounds good to me, well, except I wouldn't want all those crewdog pals of mine drooling over your fabulous rack."

She blinked twice, fast, startled, then snorted on a laugh. "I'll never understand how you manage to make piggish comments sound funny and complimentary all at once."

"It's a rare gift I have." He winked.

She rolled her eyes. "You're so full of it."

"That I am." A screw-up bad boy to the end. He'd heard it since childhood. "Darcy and Max aren't formal. Their wedding's going to be laid-back, and I do mean
seriously
laid-back. They specifically stated, beach wear and a smile when they called a week ago. Definitely no gold-embossed invitations for the two of them."

"How romantically impulsive."

"Actually, they've been engaged for nearly two years."

"Wow, that's a long time to wait."

Darcy had wanted Max to be sure since he'd been engaged before and the woman was murdered.

Darcy's dangerous job as a military pilot didn't offer safe guarantees of a stress-free happily ever after.

How damn strange that it was Max who'd nearly died when the OSI agent had been undercover with them on the mission in Rubistan. Max had been a major player in investigating who on the base was leaking information to Kurt Haugen.

The reunion after they were released had been an odd mix of rejoicing and tense emotions. For once, he'd been glad he didn't have a family to meet him when he'd stepped off the plane. Well, actually, he'd been carried off the C-17 on a litter because he was too drugged up on painkillers to walk.

Maybe he was wrong to take Paige to the wedding....

Nah. He trusted his friends to welcome her if she came with him.

He slid his hands down her arms and let them rest on her hips, increasing the intimacy of their touching boundaries to date. Early foreplay that tormented him, sure, but the payoff would be big. "Come with me, please."

She swayed forward, just enough for their hips to meet, and no way would she miss how much he wanted her.

He stepped back. "Quit trying to sidetrack me, and yeah, I noticed that's what you're doing. I have a tropical shirt you can borrow. All you need is a pair of shorts since it's going to be an oceanside ceremony." He let his eyes speak for him instead of his hands. "I would really like you to be there with me tonight."

"Because you're worried about me?" she asked with unerring insight.

"I have to admit leaving you alone doesn't sit well with me right now." Since he was being truthful, might as well go for broke. Somehow he sensed this woman would find honesty as tempting as any foreplay.

"But more than that, I just want to be with you. Time's running out for us, lady."

Time passed for Paige in a haze of wedding vows, seaside winds and Bo's beautiful music. She hadn't realized until he pulled his guitar from the back of the dusty Jeep that he would be providing the music for the ceremony, a sentimental gift from him to the couple.

And he'd been thoughtful enough to ensure she didn't feel abandoned in the crowd by parking her with a friend of his— instructing that friend not to walk away even if Prickly Paige insisted she was fine. Which of course she would have done.

So now Paige sat beside his friend Nikki Price, a recent college graduate and daughter of one of the crewdogs. They shared a minipack of Kleenex as the bride and groom exchanged pledges of love with waves crashing against the shore. Sunset cast shadows and tequila hues across the sand while tiki torches flickered in the salty breeze, encircling the crowd of about a hundred. How could she not think of her own candlelight wedding? Not to mention her garbled emotions when it came to the new man in her life.

Focus on the moment, doggone it.

The spiky-haired groom sported a tropical shirt and baggy khakis, his long pants the only difference from his shorts-clad friends standing witness in floral shirts of their own. The bride wore a gauzy yellow sundress and no shoes, a beam of casual sunshine in the midst of all the crazy colors.

Snagging another tissue, Paige dabbed more sentimental tears over the love radiating from the two people standing under a floral bower. Even with the beach setting, they hadn't spared expense just because they'd opted for less formal. Sprays of tropical flowers and a spread of food large enough to feed an army waited on the sandy beach beside bowing sea oats. The unconventional ceremony spoke of their personalities and commitment.

A couple of years ago she wouldn't have recognized that, too caught up in appearances and the protocol of engraved invitations to appreciate the importance of the sentiment behind it all. No wonder she hadn't fully recognized her husband's shallow veneer.

And didn't that make her appreciate Bo's surprise frugality and thoughtfulness all the more? She was still working to reconcile her shifting image of him after seeing his house that held his "toys," but bought without extravagance.

Bo's shirt teased her skin with reminders that he would be touching her later. Even Downy-fresh clean, the fabric still carried his spicy scent. Or was he becoming that familiar to her after such a short time? She needed to keep this uncomplicated. She might be ready for sex again, but no way was her battered heart ready to risk more.

She forced her attention back to the present, Nikki pointing out the wedding party with whispered explanations. Matron of honor—the bride's sister who flew fighter planes in Alaska with her aviator husband. Best man—a longtime friend of the groom who happened to be another pilot in the Charleston squadron, a guy named...huh? Crusty? Sheesh. What a name. Of course the guy did look like a cute but rumpled mess.

The minister raised his arms. "I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell Keagan." The willowy bride gave the minister a gentle tap on the arm. "Oh, uh, Mr. and Captain Keagan."

Laughter rumbled through the crowd while the groom scooped up his bride for a kiss and Bo launched into the final love song.

Where were those darn Kleenex?

The reception started and still Nikki Price stuck to her like glue while Bo helped the band set up. And wasn't that surreal, hanging out with the loadmaster, Tag's, daughter? One of the people hurt by Kurt, since he'd threatened her younger brother and held her parents hostage along with Bo.

How could these people be so forgiving when she couldn't find it within herself to forgive her husband?

A plate of food in hand, Paige plopped into a chair under a palm tree with Nikki. "You don't have to entertain me."

"It's my pleasure. Really." The leggy young woman leaned, silky black hair swinging with the swish of her head. "Besides, everybody's curious about you, so I'm the official spy for the gang."

"Curious? About me?" A chill tightened her skin. She rested her plate on her knees with a shaky hand.

"We've seen Bo with a lot of women—uh, no offense."

"No need to apologize." The chill turned downright icy. "I pretty much guessed his reputation."

"The thing is, we haven't seen him with a woman in almost a year." Nikki popped a sweet-and-sour meatball into her mouth.

"A year?" Icy nerves melted into something... She didn't know what.

God, she was hungry.
Petit four,
pronto.

"Uh-huh. He was dating a flight attendant last May, but that's the last one we can remember."

"I'm sorry to disappoint the rumor mill, but we're not dating." Only planning to have sex. Just liking each other and trying to hold on to objectivity that kept slipping away faster than the waves retreating from the shore.

"Yeah, right. If I believe that one, I'm sure you'd like to sell me a bridge and some swampland."

What could she say to that? Nothing. This woman had made up her mind—and she wasn't far off the mark. Best to change the subject. "So, which of these people crew together?"

"Nice segue. Okay, I can take the hint." The younger woman washed down another meatball with a glass of sparkling water. "They don't have set crews unless they're flying combat. But each of the different squadrons are tight, and certain groupings tend to fly together. Bo crews with Scorch over there whenever he can."

Paige swept her windblown hair from her face, and yeah, she'd left it down for Bo, for herself, too, because Kurt preferred she keep it confined with a fourteen-karat-gold clasp. "Scorch?"

"He once set his mustache on fire in a bar with a flaming Dr. Pepper drink." Shadows crossed her face that seemed to have nothing to do with the setting sun. "The two of them flew with my dad some over in Rubistan."

Nikki shook off the shadows and continued, "My dad also really likes to fly with Cobra. Let's just say his call sign came from the time he dropped his pants once as a joke, and snake references quickly followed.

Marriage settled his butt right down, though."

There were so many names she could barely keep them all straight. Like wait, who were Bronco and Rodeo and how come with names like that neither one was a cowboy?

"Where's the commander?" She would have expected him to be at an important event like this, partying right alongside the other crewmembers circling the bonfire.

"He's off picking up his brother-in-law from college, packing up the extra gear and stuff."

"Brother-in-law? I didn't know he's married."

"Oh, he's not anymore. Actually, he's a widower. Most folks don't know, which is a shame because it makes his grouchiness a bit more forgivable."

"I thought everyone knew everything about each other around here." She tipped back her punch cup, pineapple with a definite kick.

"Like I said before, Colonel Quade's a real grouch, so nobody really pries in his business. The brother-in-law went to boarding school. I only know about him because he started at UNC with me this year. We've carpooled a couple of times." She fanned her face with her hand. "The guy's a real hottie, all dark hair and has this fabulously yummy South American accent. Too young for me though."

She started to ask Nikki who she was seeing—

"Bo's a great guy."

Paige froze, wondering if maybe this woman had once been with him or wanted to be. They certainly seemed closer in age.

Nikki laughed. "No. Bo and I are definitely
not
an item, never have been, never will be. He's like a big obnoxious brother. Know what I mean?"

"I have one of those."

"Exactly. He's helped me with some course selections and stuff. I was finishing up my teaching degree at UNC Chapel Hill, where the colonel's brother-in-law goes, too."

"That's nice." She busied herself with more punch to hide her relief while the bonfire flames crackled higher.

"I just thought you would want to know, since other folks have assumed we're more than friends."

"We're just.. .uh..." She twirled a strand of hair between two fingers.

"Friends? Yeah right.
I'm
his friend, remember? And he doesn't look at me like he wants to peel off my clothes with his teeth and toss them very far away, not to be found for at least a week."

Apparently they weren't hiding their feelings from anyone. Might as well be open then. "If he's such a great guy and you two are friends, how come nothing more came of it?"

"No spark, ya know? There's no explaining what makes that spark happen." Her eyes drifted back over to the cluster of pilots popping peeled shrimp into their mouths. Was she looking for someone in particular or just dreaming of another guy? Tough to tell. But Nikki was still so young, with many years and dreams left to explore.

How morbid was that? Geez, she wasn't exactly 105 herself. Exhaustion and more than a little frustration must be having its way with her. Time to lay off the spiked fruit punch before it ruined the whole night for her.

She'd made her decision to grasp the moment with Bo, and she wouldn't be shaken. She'd come to Charleston to lay her past to rest and that involved facing everything head-on.

Speakers squawked and the canned recorded music shifted to the band warming up. Bo shouldered through the crowd and dropped onto the arm of her lawn chair. "How's it going?"

She clasped her hands around her punch glass to keep from placing her hand on his thigh and further stoking the rumor mill. "Your friend here's just spilling all your secrets."

He blanched paler than the chunks of Swiss cheese on the plate on her lap. She didn't want to think about what nerve that must have struck. Tonight was about putting aside morbid thoughts and concerns.

Pinching up a
petit four,
Nikki pelted him on the forehead. "Nothing particularly juicy, but the night's still young."

Bo set aside Paige's plate and cup with an arousing brush of his fingers. "Then I guess I'd better keep her busy." He tugged Paige's wrist. "Kick off your shoes and dance with me, gorgeous."

Three hours later, by the bonfire, Bo searched the crowd for Paige, who'd been tugged off for more secret sharing with some of the wives and girlfriends apparently determined to see him paired up. A few people avoided her, but in a group this large and with the night to hide subtle emotions, the slight wasn't as obvious.

Good thing because he would hate to kick ass at Darcy and Max's wedding.

Paige seemed to be having fun when they'd danced under the stars, fast, slow, and much like what he had in mind for later, minus the clothes. Hopefully she wasn't pissed with him for making her come along, but after that purse-snatching, he hadn't wanted to risk leaving her alone. Trouble seemed to be following this woman lately with an increasing frequency that made his instincts shout.

And then she was there. Beside him. Smiling. Sliding her soft hand into his.

He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. "Are you ready to go?"

"I can wait." She flipped her loose hair over her shoulder. "I don't want to take you from your friends.

Looks like they still have plenty of party left in them."

"They do. But there's always another party, and I can see them anytime." And soon he wouldn't see Paige anymore.

Her eyes sparked with a similar awareness. "Let's go."

He tugged her hand, weaving them through the press of people, not a fast trek but he was a determined man. At the edge of the crowd, he bumped smack into Nikki.