Chapter 3
MITCHELL
“Keep eating those cookies and you’re not going to be able to zip your jumpsuit,” I teased Watch Dog.
“More like he’s going to blow chunks.” Medusa laughed. “Six G’s and a belly full of sugar seems a little risky.”
Watch Dog slapped his stomach. “Gut of steel.”
“He says that now.” I laughed. “One of these days, that gut of steel is going to develop a hole. I’m just glad I’m not the one in the cockpit with you.”
“Anybody seen Honcho?” Medusa asked.
We were all sitting in the hangar with the catering set up on one wall.
It was two hours until the show started.
Usually our CO would be giving us a pep talk.
We’d be going over maneuvers and talking about the meet and greet that would come after the show was over.
There were always some VIPs we were supposed to meet.
“I haven’t seen him this morning,” I said. “Shit, I hope he didn’t catch that bug that’s going around.”
Flying without Honcho was like flying blind. We didn’t replace him. When one of us was too sick or injured to fly, the squadron did without. We couldn’t do without our CO. I knew he would show up. He’d strap a barf bag to his face if that was what it took.
“There he is,” Medusa said in a low voice. “Is that his wife?”
All eyes turned to watch our CO walking toward us with a woman keeping pace with his long strides, despite her much shorter stature.
Five six, I pegged her at. Five six and curves for days.
The closer they got, the better my opinion of her got.
She was carrying a clipboard, which made me wonder if she was from the press.
I thought we’d already done our press bit for the weekend.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pilot with boobs,” Watch Dog whispered.
Medusa smacked him. “Asshole.”
“Don’t get me wrong, you’ve got a great rack, but that woman has got boobs,” he said. “Like damn.”
She looked like a vintage pinup model. Slap some bright red lipstick on those luscious lips and put her in a pair of tiny shorts and a front-tie shirt and she’d be the kind of poster the pilots that flew in World War II would have been fantasizing over.
“Mind your manners,” I said to Watch Dog.
We got away with teasing Medusa, but if any of our superiors heard us giving her shit like that, we’d find ourselves in serious trouble. There was a pretty strict harassment policy.
“Don’t act like you aren’t checking her out,” Watch Dog hissed under his breath.
I was checking her out all right. Every detail. She had the perfect hourglass figure to balance out those ample tits. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, which typically looked severe on women. Not her. It gave her kind of a cheerleader look. Or maybe that was just my fantasy.
They stopped in front of us and I got my first good look at her face. Green eyes. Damn, I had a serious weak spot for green eyes. She had thick black lashes and was wearing very little makeup, but she didn’t need it. She was gorgeous and young. Who was she?
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet our new mechanical inspector,” Honcho announced.
That got everyone’s attention. She wasn’t Navy. She was definitely not a Marine. I didn’t take her for Air Force. “Where’s Jameson?” I asked.
“He’s not going to be able to finish the season,” Honcho answered.
“This is Samantha Reid. She’s a civilian contractor and has earned her reputation as being the best in the field.
I know we’ve already gone through flight prechecks, but Samantha is going to do a quick onceover to get familiar with everything. ”
“She doesn’t know about our Hornets?” PitA scoffed.
“I know everything there is to know about your Hornets,” she shot back.
The look on her face was all business. This woman did not come to play.
I had initially pegged her for early to mid-twenties, but I had a feeling that was wrong.
She had perfect lightly tanned skin with a tiny smattering of freckles across her nose.
Her skin had a youthful glow which was what had thrown me off.
“You’ll give Samantha the same respect as any other member of our team. Think of her as your equal in rank—or higher.” Honcho looked directly at PitA when he said it. “Why don’t we get started? We need to be on the tarmac in exactly ninety minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” Samantha said.
Honcho led her to his aircraft first. The rest of us kind of stayed back and watched. There was a strange feeling in the air. We’d worked with civvies before, but I couldn’t remember one ever getting near our jets. It felt a little strange. I had a sudden urge to hike my leg and mark my territory.
“How in the hell is she going to get in and out and under with that rack in the way?” Watch Dog joked.
Suddenly, I felt like I needed to defend the woman. “Remember, she’s your equal. You wouldn’t dare say that about Medusa or any other female on the team—or in the Navy period.”
“Because Medusa doesn’t have a rack,” Watch Dog said.
“Not one you’ll ever see,” Medusa shot back.
“You know I think you’re beautiful,” Watch Dog said with his boyish charm.
“Enough,” I growled. “Honcho hears you talk like that and he’s going to have you scrubbing toilets with your toothbrush.”
Everyone knew Watch Dog had the hots for Medusa.
He’d been in love with her since he first laid eyes on her.
I had a feeling she felt the same for him.
She would never act on it, though, because it could compromise the team dynamic.
Once our rotations on the Blue Angels were up, I had a feeling there would be some love in the air.
In the meantime, I had my own interests.
I was very intrigued by the woman that was checking over the details of my CO’s Hornet.
She was holding that clipboard like it was her Bible.
The look on her face was all business. She could do the stern thing, but her body said otherwise.
That body looked like it would be a lot of fun.
Since she was a civilian, I didn’t see any rules preventing me from having a little fun.
She’d be traveling with us. Usually, I had no trouble picking up a lady at whatever city we were in for the week.
But this could be a steady source of good times.
Honcho left and she was all alone and prime for the picking.
The rest of the team went to do whatever it was they did while I casually strolled across the hangar to get a read on our new friend.
I knew she wasn’t wearing a ring, but was she with someone?
I wasn’t a total dick. I didn’t move in on anyone’s territory.
That just caused a lot of drama. I didn’t need enemies.
If someone hated me, it was going to be because I kicked their ass in the air or they were jealous. I had a code of ethics I lived by.
“Ever been up in one of these?” I asked the beautiful young woman with her head down and focused on her clipboard.
“Nope, but I bet you’re going to tell me you have,” she answered without looking at me.
“Yes, I suppose you could say that,” I said.
She finally looked at me. “Did you need something?”
“I need something alright, but I don’t think I’m going to get it right here, right now.”
I made sure she knew what I was hinting at. My eyes dropped to the beautiful rack that was begging to be touched. She was wearing a T-shirt with the Blue Angels logo and a pair of khaki slacks. It wasn’t exactly the standard uniform, but she wasn’t standard in any other way either.
“Are you a pilot?” she asked.
It was a little insulting she didn’t know who I was. Or maybe she did, and she didn’t want to admit she knew who I was. “I am.”
“Let me rephrase that,” she said and walked to the left wing. “Are you one of the six?”
“Number Five at your service, ma’am,” I said with the smile I knew could drop panties from a half mile away. I knew because I’d tested it. A lot. “Mitchell Peters, but everyone calls me Dice.”
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Peters. Why don’t we check out your aircraft?”
“I’d be happy to check out anything you’d like,” I shot back.
Yes, I was laying it on thick. I always did.
It was the way I rolled through life. Go big or go home.
Playing it safe was boring. Balls to the wall.
That was the only way to live in my opinion.
You never knew when an engine would fail or when some drunk asshole would run a red light.
I’d stared death right in the eyes. I knew the pain.
I knew the suffering. Death took you whether you wanted it or not. I was going to go out with a bang.
“I’m sorry.” She stood up to her full height and looked me directly in the eyes. “Did you get the idea I was here to play?”
“No, but there’s no reason we can’t have a little fun,” I said.
Her green eyes narrowed, and her full lips were pulled thin over her teeth. “Yes, there is a very good reason we can’t have fun. You’re Number Five?”
I nodded proudly. “At your service. Anything you want, I would be more than happy to give you. And I do mean anything.”
“Well, Number Five, I’m the person that is going to make sure your jet doesn’t have a catastrophic malfunction while you’re ten-thousand feet in the air flipping around.
I’m the person that’s going to make sure your landing gear retracts and drops when it’s supposed to.
I’m the person that is making sure your ass is as safe as one can possibly be when traveling at six-hundred miles per hour. ”
“We usually just do around three-fifty,” I countered.
“Stop. I cannot be distracted. If something happened to go wrong while you were up there, something I could have prevented by being good and focused at my job, I don’t know that I would recover.
I would need decades of therapy, a lot of drugs, and a padded room.
I don’t intend to live my life that way. Go away.”
I had to smile. “Way to look on the dark side.”
“I have to look on the dark side,” she said irritably. “I’m the one that stares at the dark side and makes sure it doesn’t touch you.”
“Well, aren’t you a good little soldier?” I teased.
“Yes, I am. The best.”
I was about to walk away but felt like I needed to say something just in case there was some kind of freak accident. “By the way, no one controls fate. If shit goes awry, you can’t take on that guilt. Shit happens.”
I walked away with her looking stunned. Watch Dog was watching the exchange and started laughing. He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “That’s not the one for you, I’m afraid,” he teased.
“That was just round one,” I replied. “I’m not a quitter.”
“Yeah, well, she doesn’t look to be a quitter either.”