The Spitfire Girls(83)

She nodded. ‘And you did exactly that.’

His smile was almost crooked this time as he gave her a quick sideways look. ‘Can we agree that I’m on your side, then?’

She smiled back, feeling a welcome shudder of warmth. ‘Yes.’

‘And can we please agree that we’re off the clock now, and we won’t talk work again?’

‘Is that champagne back there for us?’ she asked, feeling lighter, more relaxed than she had in a very long time.

‘Absolutely.’

‘Then absolutely yes, we can be off the clock. It’s about time I had a night off and forgot about everything.’

Lizzie turned slightly, facing Jackson now, studying his profile and wondering what he was really like beneath that uniform. Glimpsing this softer side of him had thrown everything she’d previously thought about him off balance. And he was right: she’d made him out to be the villain when really he was just an exceptional captain who tolerated nothing less than excellence and expected those under his leadership to follow his orders to the letter. After all, wasn’t that what she’d wanted for her pilots?

‘What are you thinking?’ he asked.

‘I’m wondering where you’re taking me,’ she replied, not about to admit that she’d been admiring his smooth jaw and perfect cheekbones, and the way his broad shoulders took up the entire seat. ‘And I’m so pleased that I decided to come home.’

‘Well, you don’t have to wait to find out. We’re here.’

She looked around as the car slowed and they bumped along off-road. She wasn’t sure where they were, but the beautiful lake that glistened in the near distance gave her some clues.

‘Is this where the girls come when they’re off duty? I’ve heard about a swimming hole,’ she said.

‘It certainly is.’

He stopped the car and jumped out, opening her door for her. Lizzie inhaled the fresh, earthy air and let out a sigh. It was perfect. She’d been working what seemed like a hundred hours a week, falling into bed each night and always waking somehow more tired than she’d been the day before.

‘This is magical,’ she said, honestly.

‘Neither of us gets a lot of time off, so I figured we’d be better spending an evening here than sitting in a restaurant.’

He couldn’t have been more right. ‘It’s lovely.’

She waited for Jackson to gather their things, offering to take the wine and glasses for him while he carried everything else. She followed as he found a nice spot near the lake and spread out the blankets.

‘Take a seat,’ he said, gesturing and waiting for her to sit before joining her on the rug.

‘I thought this would be, I don’t know, more of a work dinner,’ Lizzie admitted, not sure exactly what was going on. Were they on a date, or was this simply a friendly dinner between colleagues?

Jackson shrugged. ‘Champagne?’ he asked, holding up the bottle, then popping the cork.

Lizzie wrapped herself in one of the blankets, then sat back and watched as he poured a glass, the bubbles extending all the way to the top and then slowly settling back down. She hadn’t sipped champagne since . . . She smiled as she remembered that night in London, when he’d not poured her a glass. How times had changed.

‘To good friends,’ she said, taking the glass and inhaling the sweet smell. ‘Lost but not forgotten.’

‘To good friends,’ Jackson repeated, holding up his glass and gently clinking it to hers. They sat in silence for a moment, and Lizzie shut her eyes, imagining Polly looking down on them.

‘Tell me about yourself,’ Lizzie said, suddenly wanting to know everything about him. ‘How did you end up as a captain?’

‘Well, I’d say we have similar stories there,’ he said. ‘I listened to so many tales of my old man flying up a storm during the war that when the opportunity came up to volunteer, I was one of the first to hit the sky.’

Lizzie grinned. ‘Sounds familiar.’

He nodded. ‘But I haven’t brought you here to talk about me.’

‘Why, are you secretly married and don’t want me to know about your wife?’

He cleared his throat. ‘I did have a wife. Well, a fiancée that I was about to marry, actually,’ he said. ‘She was killed aboard the USS Solace when Pearl Harbor was bombed.’

Lizzie’s heart hit the ground. Why had she said that? ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t, I was . . .’

‘It’s fine. It’s taken me a long time to be able to talk about it, but we’re all starting to lose someone to this war now, aren’t we?’

‘What was she like?’ Lizzie asked, tucking her legs up beneath herself and sipping her champagne, which was making her feel warm and happy inside.

‘Maria was wonderful,’ he said, smiling. ‘She was charming and intelligent, and she loved helping others. But she was also determined and pig-headed, so we had some huge arguments about all sorts of things at times.’

‘She doesn’t sound so different to me then,’ Lizzie joked. ‘Well, the pig-headed part. I think it’s the only way I ended up in this role.’

‘I was stationed at Pearl Harbor, too. I was there on that day and I saw her body, and since then I feel like I’ve been ignoring what happened and putting everything into my work instead. I found out I was good at what I did, and it stopped me from having time for anything else, including thinking about her.’ He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘I understand what it’s like to lose someone, Lizzie.’