Chapter 3 Lake
Chapter three
Lake
Humming to myself while flying is how I get through the audacity of not being able to put headphones on and sing to Beyoncé while I’m several—more than several—feet in the air.
The three-hour debate with my CO hadn’t changed her mind, which I claimed was an unethical use of her status because my argument was on point.
She’d kicked me out of her office with the threat of putting a boot up my ass. So touchy. My PowerPoint and fully illustrated poster boards were more than enough evidence that I can fly just fine while pitching my voice at decibels it wasn’t designed to go.
Not even the moaning behind me is enough to make up for the tragic lack of dance tunes.
Enjoyable though. Taking recruits up to the Blue Mountains is one of my favourite activities.
There’s nothing scarier than one’s first time rappelling from a helicopter into a copse of trees.
They’re never safer than when they’re in an aircraft with me. But they don’t know that.
I share a sneaky look with my copilot for the day, Lieutenant James Anson, before nosediving and turning sharply in a full three-sixty circle. A thrill similar to having sex with Grady erupts in my stomach. I love my job.
Someone actually yips into their headset, which is both ouch but also totally worth the ear-piercing pain. They’ll learn. Eventually, they’ll do that with the doors open and not even blink. It’s important to stay strapped in until told otherwise when doing operations like that.
“That wasn’t me,” a voice is quick to pipe up.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” someone else mumbles. I’m so glad that I made them all put on headsets. Maybe this is better than pop music. I need more data to decide. Maybe another nosedive.
They’re lucky the weather’s on our side today, and the wind isn’t trying to pull me off course. Choppy rides are always a little trickier.
“Make sure you use the barf bags, or I’m making you clean it,” I tell them pleasantly, shooting them a wide grin.
For some reason that doesn’t put them at ease.
I don’t know why. I’m an excellent pilot, and I have a loveable face.
“We’re almost at our destination, but it might get choppy.
” It won’t unless I do it on purpose; they don’t need to know that.
“Did everyone get their designated parachutes?”
“Our what?”
“Oh my god, I’m gonna die.”
“Not today,” I sing. I flick a switch and make sure we’re hovering at the right altitude before giving the signal that they can open the door and drop the rope.
The next bit is up to them. I’ll keep them steady while they do their thing.
“Off you go, soldiers. Hold on tight: it’s a long way down.
” It’s roughly as high as they’ll ever go. Most operations won’t require it.
“You have a sick sense of humour,” James says. The mirth in his eyes says he likes it. Which is good because I like it too.
“Everyone has to get their kicks somewhere.” Some people do it on the ground; I do it two hundred feet in the air. Potatoes, potahtoes.
“Aren’t you engaged? Not enough kicks in that?”
My smile spreads over my face, eyes crinkling.
I am. I’m getting married. To a man who turns me inside out in all the best ways.
My heart does a fun tap dance that probably, under other circumstances, would mean I’m having some kind of medical episode.
Probably an awkward place to have it, and then Anson would have to get us back by himself, and it’s a lot of work to pilot a Hawk solo.
I’ve done it a few times; I don’t recommend it.
“The look on your face is disgusting.”
“Don’t be jealous.”
“Of tying myself down to one person? Don’t worry, I’m not.”
Each to their own. I’ve done the dating thing.
Trying to work out compatibility, all the “getting to know you” stuff.
Then breaking up and doing it all over again.
It was fine at the time and meeting new people is always fun.
And breaking up involves ice cream. Not because I was ever upset, but it’s a good excuse, right? They do it in movies.
Now that I’m with Grady, not a single part of that appeals to me. Maybe the ice cream part, but we have that together now. Even if he complains about the sugar content first before digging in.
He’s changed my life in a way that I’ll never regret and never want to take back.
Going home every day to the love of my life?
That’s the real dream. Friday night date guaranteed.
Okay, we don’t generally go out Friday nights, unless we’re visiting family or friends for dinner, but it still counts.
Besides, what he does to me with his tongue when we’re at home is way better than any restaurant food.
Or… a movie at a cinema, or whatever people do on dates. Bowling?
Getting to marry the one person that completes every part of me is the best thing ever. It’s like walking on water. I don’t really see the appeal of doing that—isn’t swimming in it more fun?—but the sentiment works.
By the time we get back to base a few hours later, I’m exhausted. And hungry. Hangry? No. Being angry isn’t going to convince someone to feed me. What I need is Zach.
My best friend is exactly where I knew he’d be at this time of day—in the hangar and talking shit. Probably working, too, I guess. As an avionics engineer, actually doing his job seems like a plus for me since I go up in the birds he maintains.
Zach grins at me as I approach, some kind of wiring in his hands. “Thought you guys were never coming back.”
“One of them got lost.” Like an overeager puppy bounding into the trees. Ground navigation is hard. I prefer my bird’s-eye view. “I need food. Come with me?”
“Can’t go by yourself?”
“It’s a two-man job.”
Zach snorts, but he gets up and puts his tools away, pushing them to the side so no one can trip.
“Oh, I need to talk to you about something too!” I meant to earlier today but forgot what I wanted to ask.
“That sounds serious.”
Nothing is more serious than getting Grady down the aisle. “We set a date!”
He glances at me, understanding in his dark-brown eyes. “Yeah?”
What the hell does that mean? “Don’t sound so surprised.
” I said yes, I have a ring. It’s in my locker with my necklace, but I have it.
At least I’m allowed to wear the ring—and I still don’t see why I can’t have something like my necklace around my neck since they can’t even see it—but I don’t want to risk losing the ring when I’m flying, so it’s in my locker.
The risk is minimal, but it still exists.
The obvious next step after agreeing to the whole marriage thing is picking a date. And then… all the other steps.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Zach says. “I just meant it takes you twenty minutes to decide if you want tomato or barbecue sauce.”
Is he really bringing that up again? Um and ah one time over a choice, and everybody remembers. “It was a legitimate choice. Pasties are hard.”
Zach grabs a set of keys from the hooks in the small office of the hangar. “They’re not. The answer is tomato sauce.”
“I’ve seen what you eat; I don’t trust your sauce decisions.”
Zach flicks my ear. “What’s the date? Should I mark it on next year’s calendar with a heart and ‘Lake plus Grady kissing in a tree’?”
“Will that all fit in one square?” Maybe in tiny block writing that can only be seen when squinting.
“I can make anything fit,” he says with a leer.
“Besides,” I say loudly, singing la-la-la-la in my head and ignoring the implications of the words.
With one hand on the door of the Jeep, I turn to face him.
“Next year’s calendar will be too late. We’re getting married in October.
I’m going to ask Avery to be my best man, but I’m hoping you and Felix will be my groomsmen. ”
“Of course, we—wait. October? Lake, that’s not even three months away.”
“I know how the calendar works.”
“That’s not enough time to—do you know how much work a wedding is?”
“I don’t want to wait.” We have plenty of people to help with the details.
Mum and Dad are frothing at the mouth to start organising all the things.
Why do we need a whole year to prepare for one day?
I’m not waiting twelve months before I can call Grady my husband.
I want to write it in the sky so everyone knows he’s mine, that I’m the lucky one that gets to keep him.
Zach tugs on his ear with a grin and then climbs into the Jeep, waiting for me to get in the passenger side before turning it over. “Do you have a plan?”
“Are my parents a plan?” That’s a good starting point. They’re married, so they know how it’s done.
“It’s… something. Your dad is gonna go overboard.”
A grin spreads across my face. He’ll be like a kid in a candy store. “Keeping him in line will keep Mum occupied.”
“What does Grady think about it?”
“About what? The date?”
Zach swings into a park near the canteen and then turns to face me. “About all of it.”
Oh. “He wouldn’t let us elope, and so we compromised on the October date.” Though not a specific day yet. We’ll get there.
“Sounds like he’s smarter than you.”
He sure is. And sexier. And bigger. I wish he were here so I could appreciate the yumminess up close. And have a little nibble. A big nibble? A nibble.
After I jump out of the Jeep, I pull my phone from my pocket and send Grady a GIF of a man eating a taco. If he’s even half the man I think he is, he’ll get it.
He sends back a message almost immediately.
Grady: Behave. I’m at work and don’t need to have to explain why my pants are getting tight.
My loud laugh echoes around us.
Zack gives me a curious look. “What?”
Lake: From too many tacos?
“Nothing. I want a taco.”
“I don’t think they serve those here.” He holds the door open so I can go in first.
“Guess I’ll have to wait till I get home.”