Way of the Warrior (Troubleshooters #17.5)(94)

Lois could only admire the ease with which Clara moved through the world. But she could never be a paper pusher, nor a hand holder. She was a combat pilot who could no longer fly with her team. The near daily emails they kicked her from the front were both precious and painful. Their lives were going on, and hers had stopped. But they were flying, that was something she’d done for them that they’d never know. Her crew was still up in the air…even if she wasn’t.

Lois saw plenty of Clara, but she didn’t see much of Kendall. She stayed away from the hangar and simulator building. He, in turn, didn’t come calling. It didn’t feel as if he was avoiding her so much as giving her space to think.

Damn him for being decent. It just made her think about him all the more. His compliment, which had rankled at first, had shifted over time. “Didn’t want her while she flew” had shifted into the background. “Had almost made him break his own promise to himself,” shifted forward.

Why had she never hooked up with him? He was funny, handsome, smart, and a damned fine pilot for a civilian. She had high standards, but he flew past all those easily. Also on the plus side, he was a civilian, so no fraternization issues would have come up.

Over the second week, she eventually reached the conclusion that the reason Lois Lang and Kendall Clark had never become an item was that she was as stupid as a brick. Which was about how she’d always ranked Clark Kent for never bedding Lois in the movies.

? ? ?

Neutral ground again, she was waiting outside the main hangar as he returned from a training flight. She’d been building up her walks, stretching the half mile to the PEB offices out to a mile, then two.

For today, she had taken the risk and left her cane behind. She’d gone back to a skirt again for the first time since their Stanley and Seafort’s date and was relaxing on a bench on the service side of the hangar. The afternoon sun had almost lulled her to sleep by the time he flew back in. Daylight training today.

“Great leg!” He stood in a full flight suit, his helmet under one arm, and the lowering sun lighting him up from behind.

“Which one?”

“I’m an engineer.”

She laughed, she couldn’t help herself. He simply made her feel good about herself. “You done for the day?”

He nodded.

“How about I take you to dinner?”

For an answer all he did was smile.

She’d actually cooked. Nothing fancy, but she’d made the lasagna from scratch, except for the red sauce, which was jarred because life really was too short. The post commissary also had some great baguettes, so she’d snagged one and a bag of salad.

The meal hadn’t been hurried. At first, they were avoiding that she’d propositioned him, and he’d pretty much said he loved her. But soon it fell by the wayside as they each told mom stories and flying tall tales. Much of the evening had passed before a comfortable silence fell between them.

She stood. “I’m not much for romantic gestures,” and she reached out a hand.

Without a word, he rose, scooped her up in his arms over her cry of protest, and carried her into the bedroom. He neither made a point of nor ignored her leg. Undressing each other was a slow, mutual, and nerve-tingling experience.

And still he didn’t address her leg. Not until her skirt was off and little remained—just panties, bra, and prosthesis—did he mention it. He no longer boasted any clothes at all, and she wondered why she had avoided him so long. Kendall’s body wasn’t soldier strong, it was more than that. He had the strength without the overstressed leanness that so often accompanied the military lifestyle. Runs, weight room, constant training made for excellent conditioning and endurance, but the physical stresses showed—even worse after a forward deployment. Kendall’s physique had all the advantages and none of the drawbacks.

“Show me how,” he whispered as he nuzzled her breast through the bra’s fabric.

“Not if it means you’re going to stop doing that.”

He obliged her until long after that bit of clothing no longer hindered his investigations.

She sat up on the edge of the bed. He sat beside her. When she reached for a buckle, it felt as if she was about to expose herself far more than merely removing her clothes.

Sensing her apprehension, he slid his fingers beneath hers and undid the first one. She guided his hand to the second. With a slight shake and a push, it came free.

He knelt before her. This beautiful, naked, gentle man knelt before her, and slid the leg off. Setting it carefully aside, he peeled off one abrasion sock and then the other.

Lois had never in her life been so exposed or felt so vulnerable. And then he kissed the inside of her bare thigh, and the sensation rocketed into her so hard and sharp that she cried out, not knowing if it was pleasure or pain.

Kendall took his time proving that it was indeed pleasure.

? ? ?

A training schedule order. Lois hadn’t had one of those in a long time. It was simple, clear, and she had no doubt who was behind it.

Simulator #3 – 1700 hours – report to Master Sergeant Jake Hamlin

She wanted to tell Kendall to go to hell. They’d been lovers for a month, and he’d kept asking her if she wanted to go up for a real flight in an actual Hawk. Kept asking until she’d shut him down hard. It was the closest they’d come to a fight; his impossible calm only making her fears all the worse. She’d shut him down so hard that he’d never brought it up again. Which was good because every mention of flying, especially in her beloved Black Hawk, had cut at her like a knife.