All the Right Moves(57)

He tipped his head, chewing away, as if telling her he got her point, even if he didn’t share the sentiment. “We moved around so much that I never really took to the notion of nesting. My mom made an effort. We had a lot of company, so she wanted things to look nice. All you’d have been able to read back then was that we were an air force family down to the bone. And then, within a year or two, we had to pack all the crap she’d put on the walls, and fill in all the holes left from the nails, repaint. It was a pain in the ass.”

“Okay,” Cassie said. “I get that. But we never had a home, either. Not like most people. We traveled with the weather. Stayed at campsites, motels, friends’ houses. I’ve been in Vegas longer than any other place. I’d like to get a job here, stay. Especially because of the bar. Tommy can be a complete jerk, but he’s mine. And I love him. That being said, I’ll go where the work sends me.”

John put down his sandwich without taking the last bite. His gaze was pointed toward her, but he wasn’t seeing her. Cassie’s chest tightened, she had no idea why.

“In nine days, I have to decide whether I’m going to sign up for another tour.”

She started to tease him about the obviousness of the answer but it sunk in, what he’d really said. He hadn’t made up his mind. Which made no sense. He was a fighter pilot. A profession way up there in the dream-job list. Although...he never talked about flying. At all. He barely wanted her to know what he did. Huh. “What don’t you like about the job?”

He winced. It didn’t last more than a second. “Nothing. I love to fly. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than in the cockpit.”

“What about when you’re not in the cockpit?”

“I’ve got another job offer. Flying a private jet. Loads more money. By a wide margin. A chance to fly to places I’ve never been. No more debriefings and being sent to war zones. And the plane, damn, it’s a G650, which is the finest jet on the market. Tony Wagner, the guy that’s offering me the job, is worried I won’t want to leave the fighter jets. He really wants me to work for him, so...”

“How did you know him?”

John focused on his food but as he did so, the tips of his ears got a little pink. “I sort of saved his life.”

“Sort of?”

“Nothing all that spectacular. One night he was coming out of Caesar’s Palace at the same time I was. I didn’t know him at all, but we were kind of crowded together by all the tourists. He was pushed onto Las Vegas Boulevard and a car was heading straight for him. I pulled him out of harm’s way. Anyone would have done the same, but he was very grateful and we ended up having a drink together.”

“I doubt just anyone could have saved him. Your reflexes, your strength. I’m sure he was awfully grateful...” She looked around his empty nest. “So it’s the money that’s making you think twice about leaving the air force? The perks?”

He shook his head. “Those would be nice, but I’m doing fine moneywise. I’ve invested well, and except for ridiculous cars, I don’t spend a lot.”

“You just want to be a civilian?” The way his brows furrowed, as if she’d said something crazy, made her curious. Surely, with the decision having to be made so soon, he’d thought this through. Growing up the way he had, becoming a civilian at this point would be a major deal. “Wow, I guess being in the bubble has its merits, but in the end, you’re still in a bubble.”

“What does that mean?”

She shrugged. “Being a fighter pilot and all. You live in a rarified atmosphere even when you’re not in the air. It’s glamorous and dangerous and very, very alpha. Flying as a private pilot is a whole different kettle of fish, but maybe that’s the challenge you’re looking for.”

“It’s not—” He stood up, walked away from the table. From her. The set of his shoulders, the way he paced, he looked agitated, and she wanted to call back her words, even though she wasn’t sure what she’d said wrong.

“I do live a charmed life. I know that. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. I have no business even thinking about leaving the air force. Christ. My friends Danny and Sam would kill to be in my shoes.”

He stopped at the window, stared straight ahead.

Cassie ate quietly, watching him. Wondering what was really going on. She was tempted to say something but afraid to interrupt his thoughts. It took a long time for him to turn back to the room.