All the Right Moves(29)

John smiled. “That’s very kind.”

“Yep, that’s me. Always willing to take one for the team.” She could seduce him. Eventually he’d fold.

“When I was in college I used to choke at key times, myself,” he said. “Not consistently, which almost made it worse because I didn’t know when I would freeze.”

“Here I thought you were one of those people who sailed through school without breaking a sweat.”

“I admit, I had it easier than most of my friends. I didn’t have to study as much as they did and I tested fine, but I had a couple of problem areas.”

“Expectations about your performance?”

He frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“The colonels. Two of them in a row.” It was clear she was navigating a minefield. He seemed uneasy, which reinforced the awful thought she’d had earlier. He’d enlisted but hadn’t cut it. A failed military career would keep him mum on the subject.

“My family wasn’t pushy about me joining the air force. Of course they knew that’s what I wanted. If I’d said I planned on being a professional masseur, I imagine they would’ve had a rather strong opinion.”

“A masseur.” She grinned, feeling less anxious. He didn’t appear to be a man who’d flunked out of the air force after all. “You would’ve been terrific.”

“Guess we’ll never know.”

She turned back and got washing, finishing the dishes quickly, and moving on to the bowl and measuring cup. “So, are you still in the service?”

“Yep, stationed right here at Nellis.”

“Are you a colonel?”

He laughed. “A captain. I’m only thirty-three.”

“What’s next?”

“I’m up for major.”

“Then colonel?”

He hesitated, and curious, she turned to look at him, but he wasn’t at the counter. Instead, he’d gone to the fridge and pulled out a beer. He glanced at her, but didn’t say anything until he’d gotten back on the stool and was able to take a swig off the bottle. Finally, he shrugged. “If I stay in long enough,”

“That was a joke, right?” She kept swirling the sponge in the batter bowl, but couldn’t stop looking at him. “I mean, you must be halfway to retirement by now, unless my math is wrong.”

“You’re right on both counts.”

She didn’t believe him. At least not about the joking part. Why make light of something like that? His family would, as he’d put it, have a strong opinion. “You must be on leave.”

“For another week.”

“And you stayed here? It’s broiling. Are you crazy?”

He leaned back, confidence oozing from his smile, his shoulders taking up so much room he looked as if he owned the place. “And aren’t you glad I did?”

Cassie gave him a long look. “The cockiness finally surfaces.”

“I meant that I’m here to help you study.” He was clearly annoyed with her comment. “Finally surfaces? What does that mean?”

“You pilots are a different breed.”

“I didn’t say I was a pilot.”

“But you are...” She grinned with her own brand of smug. “Aren’t you?”

John kept staring at her but he didn’t respond. Was he still pissed about her remark? That didn’t seem like him. He had a sense of humor and was a good sport. The kiss at the bar proved that.

“I should’ve taken Lisa’s bet.” Cassie stopped and thought a moment. “No, she wanted to bet on whether you’d leave after your first sip of scotch. She wouldn’t have put money on whether you were air force or a pilot. We both knew you were a flyboy the moment you walked in.”

“Is it the haircut?” His flat tone felt off.

“That might’ve had something to do with it, though your hair’s a bit longer than most airmen. I think mainly it’s the swagger.” She saw straight off that she’d used the wrong word. Or maybe he’d interpreted it as something negative, because the firm set of his mouth said he wasn’t pleased. “But not in a bad way. I’m not in any way dissing you. So you’re a pilot...I think that’s fine.”

He let out a short surprised laugh. “Huh,” he said. “I appreciate it.” He shook his head, his amused expression a relief. “Those men who sit in the corner with your pal Gordon. They say anything?”