Awaken to Danger (19 page)

but at least he called."

Vic Jansen had caught the potential drinking problem early, recognizing he was having a rough time since

he'd lost his daughter, using alcohol to numb the pain. Carson had a feeling Vic would make it through,

and once he had his life back, the guy had the makings of being a rock-solid support. But first, they had

to get Vic to tomorrow.

"He needs someone to come over and talk. My boy wrecked the truck and I don't get it back until the

morning..."

"I can cover it." Easy enough to drop in since Vic lived on his forty-two-foot sailboat docked near

Carson's smaller one. Hell, he understood well how tough the nights could be. At least Vic was making

the call rather than landing on the wrong woman's doorstep. "Thanks for the heads-up."

"No problem. Let me know how it goes."

"Roger." Carson disconnected and stuffed the cell phone back into his flight suit pocket.

Now he needed to figure out how to leave without seeming to bolt through the door. He wasn't sure

where he and Nikki were headed, but again she'd held him through a hellish night. As much as he didn't

want to lean on anyone, he couldn't ignore the fact that he kept ending up on her doorstep when
he

needed someone.

Which cycled him back around to being a taker, the thing he hated most. So what the hell to do? Deal

with it one day at a time until he got his head out of his butt.

He rolled the glass door open to find Nikki dressed again. God, she looked great in those short fuzzy

sweaters, softness and bright colors calling to his hands,
touch me.
He cricked his neck through the

temptation to explore tangerine angora. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

"Work." Kneeling, she nodded, fishing a canvas bag from her closet, the hem of her sweater inching up to

reveal a strip of her creamy back. "I understand."

Work? Carson hesitated a second too long and she glanced over her shoulder. He wasn't fooling her for

a second, but couldn't say more. "I would stay if I could."

He hated lying to her. For the first time he considered telling her about his alcoholism. Why had he held

off so long? Had he been enough of an ass back then to keep the secret so as not to taint her hero

worship? A distinct possibility he needed to make right, and soon.

At least then she would understand moments he had to leave at the drop of a hat for a non-work-related

call when he couldn't give her the specifics. That confidentiality was crucial in A.A., something he couldn't

break even for Nikki. It sucked bad enough that Reis had investigated Owens's sponsor. How he'd

found out the confidential relationship, Carson didn't know.

Okay, so he would tell Nikki about his drinking problem, but it wasn't something he could drop on her

then sprint out the door. And he
did
have to sprint. "We're still on for sailing this weekend?"

"Sure." Canvas bag at her feet, she tugged open a drawer and shuffled clothes into the sack.

Thank goodness she was packing. While he was okay with them hanging out here together for a few

hours, having her move back in—alone—was another matter altogether. Hopefully this hell would be

over before she needed to use all those socks.

And satin underwear. Mint-green. Grape-purple. Lemon-yellow and funny how the mind focused on

food adjectives for tasting. Tasting her. Was she wearing tangerine-orange to match that sweater?

Think of something else, pal. Pronto.

His fingers grazed a notepad by her phone, tore off a piece of paper and started folding. He'd picked up

origami on his own one dark night, desperate to keep his hands busy with anything other than a bottle.

"I'll call." And he would. She was just within her rights to doubt him.
Fold. Tuck. Don't touch Nikki.

"Come on and I'll drive you back to your parents' place—and don't even suggest staying here."

"I'm not reckless. I know that I'm not some supercop or investigator. I'm a teacher, something I hope I'll

be allowed to do now that I'm off the official suspect list."

She slid a neatly pressed pair of khaki pants from the drawer and he realized she was packing work

clothes. Of course she would return to her job now that her name was cleared. Back to students who

slashed tires and schools with metal detectors.

He forced himself to breathe evenly and crease the edge of the tiny form taking shape. "Do you have a

gun?"

"No." She dropped another sweater, purple to match that grape lingerie no doubt. "And I'm not going to

keep one with Jamie around."

"Fair enough."

He knelt beside her, his hand falling on top of hers to stop her speedy stowing because too easily he

could envision her someday packing up to walk out of his life for good. "I really am going to call."

"Of course you are." Her hair swished forward to hide her face. "Carson? What's your middle name?"

Huh? God, he would never understand women.

He cupped her head, silken strands sliding over his skin until finally she looked up at him. "Alexander. My

full name is Carson Alexander Hunt the fourth."

Searching her translucent gray eyes, he found wary consent a second before her hand glided up to his

shoulders. Her mouth met his, no doubt about the mutual move. Here at least there were no

misunderstandings or hesitations, just a driving need.

And if he didn't stop soon they would be doing a lot more than kissing.

He eased back. "I don't want to rush all the things I have to say, but come this weekend, we need to

talk."

Her fingers toyed with the nape of his neck, her lips teasing over his. "I'd rather do more of this."

He pressed the one-inch paper tulip in her palm. "Certainly possible."

If she didn't run screaming and packing for good after their conversation.

* * *

After a jam-packed week of waiting to be alone with Carson, Nikki batted three helium balloons down

and out from the passenger seat of her Ranger, clamping a folded Welcome Home, Dad banner under

her arm. The three Mylar balloons would be a flyaway mess on the flight line, but Jamie loved them so

she'd decided they could just tie the red, white and blue trio to her little brother's wrist.

Patriotic balloons trailing after her, she made tracks toward the big blue Air Force bus that would

transport the families out to the tarmac to greet the returning aircrews.

True to his word, Carson had called her, every day this week for that matter, always checking in with her

brother, as well, for a security update. Carson had even sent her flowers the morning after they'd made

love. Not generic red roses, but a dozen, each one a different color. The note read how they reminded

him of her sweaters and the brightness she brought to his life.

She'd cried—who wouldn't?—and slipped the card into the plastic picture holder in her wallet along with

the origami tulip so she could look at both again and again in hopes of overriding the impending sense of

doom. Their quick conversations had done little to diffuse the anxiety. His workweek was insane with the

bombing and returning flyers. And since her return to the classroom, she'd been playing catch-up.

They were talking, some of the conversation sexy and longing. He wanted her. No question. It wasn't like

before. But still... She'd been hurt, then angry for so long, this shift left her a bit off balance.

Panting puffs in the cold, she made it to the bus and climbed up the steps with seconds to spare. She

waved to her mom and brothers in back and plopped in the lone remaining seat up front. Surely she

would feel better once her father was safely home, then she and Carson could have their sailing date.

Date.

For real this time. Her hands clenched around her purse with that silly-sweet note from Carson inside.

Brown and brick buildings sprawled on the other side of the windows, reminding her when somehow

she'd ended up here in a VOQ room with Gary Owens. God, she'd done a one-eighty from before,

being certain the time had come to leave Carson Hunt behind forever. Now that she wasn't so focused

on jabbing pins in a Carson voodoo doll, she was reminded of all the things she'd liked about him the first

go-round.

He had a way of finding a good quality in each person and relating to them on that level, rather than

seeing the negative and judging. He excelled as a leader by giving everyone else a chance to succeed

based on that strength, something she would do well to cultivate in her teaching.

The lumbering bus jerked to a halt on the tarmac, restless families standing, pouring down the steps.

Rows of parked cargo planes loomed, waiting for their missing friends. Airmen lined up outside to escort

the families and greet their returning squadron mates. Where was Carson? Somewhere in that crowd

most certainly, since already in the distance, she could see the specks of approaching C-17s on the

horizon.

Coming home.

Hugging her coat around her, she waited alongside the idling bus while people streamed out, her mom

and brothers at the back of the line.

Kevin Avery peeled away from the other flyers in leather jackets and joined her. "Hey, Nikki. How's it

going?"

She felt bad about the way she'd treated him back in "Anybody-But-Carson" dating days. He seemed

like a nice guy, dedicated to his Air Force career. Thank goodness he was okay with being friends, and

had even set her up with his buddy Gary.

Great.
They all knew how that one had ended. "Everything's better. My dad's coming home and he's in

one piece."

"Yeah, and I hear the investigators cleared you." He nodded, clean-cut hair, boots perfectly polished until

they glinted in the afternoon sun. "That's good. I always knew it couldn't be you and I told Agent Reis the

same."

Nikki scratched the back of her neck, but the itchy sensation persisted that she was being stared at. She

turned, scanned the cement expanse. Carson was watching.

Watching her with Avery.

Darn it. Was Carson going to get all weird again and insist he was too old for her? She winced to think of

herself two years ago
hoping
he would be jealous and notice her. How juvenile it sounded now. She

truly had been too young for him then—what a surprise notion.

She wanted to reassure Carson that her eyes were so full of him that even when he wasn't around, no

other guy existed. But he was working and she knew from years listening to her parents that PDA—

public displays of affection—while in uniform were frowned upon.

But a smile would be cool. Right? Just as she started to grin at him— Carson winked. Quick. Then done.

But the tingle lingered long after he turned away to speak with the aviators lining up in front of him.

And my goodness, she could sure keep staring at the tempting view of his oh-so-perfect tush in a flight

suit, but someone might notice and she wasn't ready to go public with their relationship. Not yet.

If nothing else, she should let her parents know, although her mother had probably already guessed.

Her gaze skipped down and away, back to the present where... Oops. Kevin Avery had picked up on

every bit of the exchange. She saw things through his eyes and her quick shuffle from Gary to Carson

didn't look good. As Gary's friend, Kevin had reason to be confused, even pissed on his buddy's behalf.

He had no way of knowing that she and Gary had already been finished. Even if she explained it, who's

to say he would believe her?

She simply stared at him silently, fairly certain he wouldn't confront her if she didn't broach the subject.

He tipped his head toward the cluster of flight suit-clad aviators. "Guess I should line up with the rest of

the welcoming committee. Glad you're doing okay."

As Kevin melded in with his friends, her mother sagged to sit on the bottom bleacher, the middle

trimester of pregnancy already slowing her down while Chris followed with toddler Jamie.

Nikki extended a hand. "Hey Chris, let me see the little guy"

Rena grinned, taking the banner. "So Chris can catch me if I topple over the side."

"You said it, Mom, not me."

Squatting in front of Jamie, Nikki tied the ribbons around his chubby wrist, her heart squeezing as tight as

the knot over how darn cute her youngest brother was. She hitched him up onto her hip and snuggled him

close while pointing out airplanes.

Which took her eyes right back to the flyboys. Carson's eyes held hers across the tarmac. No wink

needed this time. She saw it in his eyes, a warming. He definitely wanted her. She shivered.

"Are you cold, sweetie?" her mother asked.

Totally scorching inside. And oooh, wasn't that a tingly thought? Scorch inside her. "I'm fine, Mom,

thanks. Just remembering how many times we've done this welcome-home gig"

And wasn't that a nontingly thought?

Then Carson's gaze slid to Jamie and her heart squeezed tighter, more so when something bleak sent

clouds chasing through Carson's beautiful blue eyes. What could he want to talk about when they went

sailing? They couldn't be jumping to a super serious level this quickly, and frankly, she wasn't sure she