Chapter 4 Jace
JACE
Ishoved my hands into my flight suit pockets as students drifted from table to table, grabbing candy and trinkets while college reps and local businesses made their pitch.
Our table had been busy earlier, mostly with guys either in their sophomore or junior years with wide eyes, hungry to learn more about fighter jets but not ready to commit to the military.
“I’m glad you came with me,” I said to Dax as he stood proudly in his uniform, though he'd complained how he hated to wear his dress blues.
A colleague who flew helicopters had a change in his schedule at the last minute, and the upper echelon had assigned Dax to man the table with me.
“No offense, dude, but I’m not happy. I’m just as miserable as you are being here.
This is what I get for being off duty today.
” His clean-shaven jaw tightened. “I should be at Devil’s Hollow rock climbing.
” It was rare to see him without scruff or in a dress uniform.
“High school. I didn’t think I would ever see the inside of one again. ”
“You and me both. The gym smells like too many teenage hormones, reminding me of running suicides and kissing girls on bleachers.”
I would like to say that my high school days were all a bed of roses. But as I stood at our table stacked with Air Force brochures, model fighter jets and helicopters, and a bowl of candy, I itched to escape faster than the speed of my F-15 Strike Eagle.
Being back in a high school gym was hell for a grounded pilot. Torture, really. Memories of senior year hit me like a Mack truck jackknifing on a downhill mountain road.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as if the act would erase that dark day when the principal had come into the gym during a pick-up game of basketball with my mom at his side. Her eyes had been red and puffy, her skin pale. At that moment, I knew something had happened to my older brother.
A cold rush swept down my spine, and for a second, the floor tilted as I felt that same vertigo that had yanked me from the sky.
Dax nudged me with his elbow. “Did you hear me?”
I shook off the memory before it affected me in public. “What?”
“I’m sure you could kiss one woman behind the bleachers,” he said, wiggling his brow. “Why don’t you take a break and find Monroe’s classroom?”
To say I had been shocked when Lila told us that morning that Monroe taught math at Pine Valley would be an understatement.
Not about her teaching skills, but I didn’t think I would see her again.
Dax and I hadn’t ventured to the Rusty Spur on Sunday because he’d gotten called in for an emergency, and I had crashed before dinner ever rolled around.
A cute brunette in a cheerleader uniform came over, halting any chance of sneaking out or locating Monroe, although I had plenty of time after career day to find her.
The brunette scanned one of our brochures about a stealth fighter jet. For fuck’s sake. Why did she have to pick up the pamphlet on the F-22? The same type of plane my brother, Caleb, had flown? The same one that had claimed his life.
She held out her hand. “I’m Sabrina Lawson. My dad told me to talk to you about flying for the Air Force.”
Shock overtook my memories of the past as I laughed. “You’re Major Lawson’s daughter.” I knew his daughter was in high school, but I’d never met her.
I leaned over the table. “Is he checking up on me?”
She giggled. “No. He said you’re the best fighter pilot he’s ever seen and you would be the perfect person not to pull any punches about what it takes to fly.”
I was proud that the major thought highly of me, but I felt as though he was testing me.
Dax mumbled something under his breath that sounded like, “Careful on that one.”
Whether or not Dax’s comment was meant for me, I wasn’t one to pull any punches. Flying jets was no joke, and anyone interested needed to know what they were up against.
“My dad has told me the risks. He thinks hearing them from you would change my mind. But I only have one question.” She looked up from the brochure on F-22s she was holding. “Captain Callahan, why did you experience a G-LOC?” Her voice seemed to bounce off the bleachers like a bullhorn.
What the fuck?
The din of voices died as a buzzing started in my ears. I felt as if all eyes were on me as I tried not to hyperventilate. Between my own fuckup in the air and thinking of my brother all of sudden, I wasn’t sure I could stand here any longer.
Dax came to my rescue and told her the percentage of pilots who experience an episode of G-LOC while I tried to prevent myself from wigging out.
I had no doubt her father used my incident to scare her. But for fuck’s sake, he didn’t have to use me as an example. On top of that, I didn’t want to be known as the pilot who crashed an F-15 and almost killed Tate, my weapons service officer.
I silently gave myself a pep talk as a shaggy-haired student sauntered over. “G-LOC? Sabrina, is this the guy you were talking about who freaked out while flying and crashed his F-15?” He draped an arm over her shoulder, casual and cool.
Instantly, I was right back to that day, Tate not moving, smoke on the horizon, and my mind on a collision course with hell.
The gym blurred, and voices faded.
Don’t wig out, man.
Dax leaned close to my ear. “Snap out of it.”
That was the problem. I was starting to believe I would never shake what had happened, especially if Tate couldn’t walk again.
Though when I’d stopped by the hospital that morning, Tate could wiggle his toes, a good sign that the inflammation in his body was subsiding, which the doctor speculated could be the reason he wasn’t able to walk.
“I’ll be back in a plane before you know it,” Tate had gushed.
I prayed so or else I could never live with myself, knowing I was responsible for ruining his life.
I put on a fake smile, zeroing in on the boy’s outstretched hand.
“I’m Ethan.”
We exchanged a handshake. “Captain Callahan. Are you interested in the Air Force?”
“Nope, but my girl here is.” He looked at Sabrina like she’d hung the moon.
“Ethan’s dad is in the Air Force,” Sabrina said. “Maybe you know him. Ryan Blake.”
“He’s in aircraft maintenance,” Ethan added, his brown eyes bouncing from Dax to me. “He’s been stationed overseas for the last year, but he’s coming home today.” Ethan had a mixture of pride and sadness in his tone.
“I’ve heard the name.” Dax chimed in, tucking his hands into his uniform pant pockets. “Never met him.”
Adjusting my flight suit, I pasted on a polite smile, hoping the effects of Sabrina’s question weren’t evident on me.
“Well, Captain, do you know the reason you blacked out?” A crease dented Sabrina’s smooth forehead.
“The jury is still out.” No lie there. I was impatiently waiting on the medical review board.
“It’s one area that worries me about flying,” she added.
“As it should. Flying powerful jets like that F-22 is no small feat on your mind and body. You need to weigh all the pros—” A flash of light snagged my attention, and my breath caught.
Monroe glided across the gym like she owned it, wearing a simple green dress, all sunshine and smiles.
My pulse kicked up as my body heated. But it wasn’t just the way the dress showed off Monroe’s long legs.
It was how she carried herself. It was that quiet confidence, the sharp intelligence in her ball-tickling green eyes as she took in everything around her.
The way she moved through the crowd like she didn’t need anyone’s approval.
There was nothing sexier than a woman who owned her shit.
Suddenly, all that panic over Sabrina’s question vanished as if Monroe was washing away my PTSD.
Ethan followed my line of sight. “Mom, aren’t you supposed to be in class?”
Mom? Ethan had just talked about his father, which meant Monroe was married. Well, there went my chances.
Sabrina giggled. “Captain Callahan, I see you’re smitten with Mrs. Blake.”
Dax chuckled.
Even though all signs pointed to the fact that Monroe was unavailable, I couldn’t look away. I watched as Ethan met his mom halfway and the two talked.
“She teaches AP math classes, mostly,” Sabrina gushed. “She is the best teacher in this school.”
I couldn’t recall any high school teacher I had who was as pretty as Monroe.
Ethan and Monroe came over.
Her son sidled up to Sabrina. “We should go. We have study hall.”
“Thanks for the info,” Sabrina said.
Monroe blocked her son from leaving. “Remember to tell your father to drop you off by nine. And also be polite to his girlfriend.”
Ethan rolled his brown eyes, his rebellious side shining through. “Yes, ma’am.”
Excitement stirred in my gut. She was either separated or divorced. Hallelujah! This day was looking up.
“So, Captain Callahan, how’s the shoulder?” Monroe asked, smiling.
I heard her, but I was more concerned about her busted lip. “Did you go a few rounds with Mike Tyson?”
“Hazards of teaching high school.” She laughed, low and smoky, as her tongue flicked over her wound.
Holy fuck! I held in a groan as heat shot south.
“Jace, I need to use the head,” Dax announced before hurrying away like he wanted no part of the tension between Monroe and me.
“Please tell me that no one intentionally hurt you.” I fisted my hands inside my pockets despite knowing her busted lip was probably due to an accident, but I had to be sure. Because I would strangle anyone who dared to hurt her.
She lifted her chin as her cheeks flushed. “A result of two boys competing for the attention of a girl. Nothing more.”
Ah, those high school days when girls were all boys could think about.
“Do you always rescue people?” I asked.
“It’s the mother in me.”
Mother? I was still trying to wrangle her being a mom. She looked too young to have a teenage son.
“Thanks again for coming to my rescue.”
The longer we stared at each other, the more I felt like she was pulling me into her seductive web with each blink of those pretty green eyes.
“You’re lucky you weren’t severely injured or worse.”
“As I said, I have nine lives.”
She giggled, though, on Saturday she had looked and sounded like she’d wanted to tear my head off for rock climbing.
“So, was Ethan interested in the Air Force?” She seemingly held her breath.
“He said he wasn’t. I think he was here because of Sabrina.”
“Ah, yeah. Those two have been together for a year. She’s helped him greatly since his father and I divorced.”
I was silently shouting hallelujah again that she was as free as a bird, or at least I hoped she wasn’t seeing anyone. “And what about you?”
She angled her head, and a blond strand fell from her messy bun. “Are you asking me if I’m with someone?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.”
She picked up an F-22 brochure, much like Sabrina had. “What made you want to fly jets?”
I was tempted to push her for ignoring my question, but I didn’t want to come off as desperate or needy. Nor did I want to answer her question. I wasn’t ready to share my late brother’s story, afraid I would break down and cry like a baby.
“There’s nothing better than to have the power in your hands as you stream across the sky.”
Her pretty features hardened. “You really do have a death wish. But it makes sense. Rock climbing and flying planes.”
“Jets,” I corrected her. “Planes are the ones you fly in from city to city.”
She rolled her eyes. “Semantics.”
I smirked, digging her smart barbs. “I could say you, too, have a death wish teaching high school students.”
She stuck her hands in the pockets of her dress. “I’m shaping their lives.”
“Semantics,” I volleyed in return.
We both laughed.
“In all seriousness,” she said, “any major injuries from bouncing off that cliff like a basketball?”
“I strained my deltoid.”
She set the brochure onto the pile and fixed them in a neat stack, looking a bit nervous. “You’re lucky it’s just strained.”
Luck wasn’t in my wheelhouse. Pain and suffering was kicking luck’s ass at the moment.
Two big, beefy guys in football jerseys walked up to the table beside mine as a beat of silence stretched between Monroe and me.
“I hear Coach Perry might be looking for help,” I said to Monroe, eyeing the football players.
“Let me guess. You played in high school,” she said.
“And college. I’m interested in volunteering since I know the game.”
“A man of many talents,” she mumbled. “I can introduce you to him after Career Day, if you would like me to.”
Any reason to spend time with her would be fantastic. “It’s a date,” I replied.
“Got to run. I need to keep law and order around here.” She gave me a ball-squeezing smile. “See you later.”
My heart rammed against my ribs as she wiggled her nice ass in the direction of Lila and Dax, who were talking by the doors.
The two football players came over, chatting about how cool it would be to fly jets.
But all I could think about was how cool it would be to sweep Monroe off her feet. It had been years since a woman made my pulse race.
Maybe the way to relax, as Captain Hollis ordered, was spending time with Monroe. After all, she had some mojo that was tempering my PTSD and lifting that suffocating weight of being grounded off me.