Okay, now disgust was creeping into his tone. He tried to throttle back on the emo, as his twelve-year-old niece would say, but found it difficult. Emily had a way of getting on his last nerve and making him vulnerable in a way he hadn’t expected.
“Humor me.”
Sam liked the challenge in her voice. Finally, he was getting an honest response from her. Too bad he’d had to piss her off to get it.
“Let’s see. I’ve also heard it as I Follow Road. But I don’t see any roads around here to follow.”
“Cute.” Her expression said it was anything but. “If you’re trying to get on my nerves, it’s working.”
“Never let it be said I annoyed the queen of precision.”
“Do you
want
to lose your job?”
“Not necessarily,” he countered, glad to finally have some spark in their conversation even if it did skate very close to the edge of ruining his mission. “What I
want
. . .” His voice pitched lower, seeking a more intimate tone. “I want us to go back to where we were yesterday, when I was kissing the breath out of you at my front door. I
want
the Emily who fisted my shirt in her hands so hard your nails left little indentations in the cotton long after you were gone.”
That gave her pause. He could tell by the way her breath caught and her eyes sparkled.
“She’s not here. You’re stuck with me. Get over it.”
He laughed at her flippant comeback.
“
Touché
, captain. You have wounded me to the core.” He sighed dramatically and let the silence stretch in the tiny cockpit as the jet hurtled through the cloudy skies toward their destination.
“It’s a shame really.” He finally spoke when she started fidgeting. He’d let her stew long enough. “I liked that Emily. I think I could have fallen for her, given half a chance. And I do know that IFR stands for Instrument Flight Rules. I just like teasing you. You rise to the bait every single time.”
He sent her a smug grin that took the edge off the serious words he’d spoken prior to his last teasing remarks. Let her think about that for a while. Let her come to terms with the issue he too was struggling with—their undeniable attraction.
“If you were one of my brothers, I’d be trying to strangle you right now.”
She seemed to recover quickly now that he’d established a lighter tone. He’d managed to say a few things he thought had needed saying between them and still end it on a teasing note. Not bad, if he did say so himself.
“I’m not your brother, Em.” He made sure to catch her eye and hold her gaze a few, significant moments before turning back to the controls. When she swallowed nervously, he knew he’d gotten his point across. He didn’t want her thinking of him as one of her brothers. No, sir. That wouldn’t do at all.
“I bet they gave you a hell of a time growing up though. I would’ve thought you had grown a thicker skin having a twin brother and all.”
“Are you kidding? He was the worst offender. Shotgun teased me all the time. And I mean
all
the time.” She rolled her eyes in memory.
“No wonder, if you’re so easily engaged.” He chuckled at the way her lips pursed.
“It’s not nearly as bad as it once was, but he still manages to yank my chain every once in a while.” She grew somewhat contemplative. “I don’t know why you manage to bring out the shrew in me too, Sam. Sorry I snapped at you.”
“And I apologize for baiting you. It wasn’t very professional of me and I’m sorry.”
“Truce?” She looked at him sideways as if both relieved and still a bit suspicious.
“Truce,” he agreed readily. Anything to get them back on better footing. He thought he’d jumped a hurdle and was glad to see her smile again. He hadn’t liked the hurt suspicion in her eyes.
“Red alert,” he teased lightly as the radio crackled to life. It was air traffic control.
Any further deep conversation ceased as they came closer to their destination and had to begin landing clearances and checklists. Sam communicated with air traffic control and then the tower as Emily brought the jet in for a landing.
They were transporting passengers today and Emily was glad to see the back of them as they piled into a waiting limo headed for a business meeting. Emily and Sam had to hang by the airport. They were on call for the next few hours, until the businessmen were done with their meeting and ready to leave.
“How about some lunch?” she asked Sam as he joined her inside the terminal.
“What did you have in mind?”
“There’s a couple of choices. Pizza, deli, fast food, fried chicken.”
“Let’s check out the deli, if that’s okay with you.”
“Fine with me.” She led the way to the deli. They had a decent selection and she’d eaten there a couple of times.
Sam ordered a giant meat filled sandwich, as she expected, while Emily got a salad.
“That’s all you’re eating?” Sam didn’t look impressed with her plate as they sat down to eat. Come to think of it, she wasn’t too impressed with it either. Sam’s sandwich looked a whole lot more appetizing but those last few pounds she was trying to shed were stubborn.
“I’m on a diet.” She tried to end it there. It was embarrassing talking about her weight with a man she was attracted to. She hoped he’d leave it alone as she dug into her tasteless lettuce, keeping her eyes lowered to her plate.
A big hand came into her field of view and half of Sam’s sandwich landed on top of her plate of wilted lettuce. She looked up at him in shock.
“You don’t need a diet, Emily. You’re perfect just the way you are. Now eat up. We have a long day ahead of us and you need your nourishment.”
He seemed genuinely upset by the idea that she’d deprive herself to lose a few pounds. Emily didn’t know what to make of it. Not only had he given her a compliment but he’d given up half of his monster sandwich for her. She was oddly touched. Especially when he opened his bag of chips and shook out a portion of them on her plate. He kept the rest for himself, but he was definitely splitting his lunch with her. Providing for her. Nobody had ever done that before.
It was the act of a caveman. A thoughtful caveman, but a caveman nonetheless. Somehow, instead of being offended, Emily was deeply moved by his actions.
She’d sat in stunned silence while he filled her plate. She knew she had to say something, but she wasn’t sure how to react.
“Thank you,” she said finally. It didn’t seem to fit the situation, but it would have to do. Emily took hold of the sandwich half and bit into it. It was absolutely delicious. She thought maybe she’d made a sound and looked up to catch the amused gleam in Sam’s eyes. Yeah, she’d made a noise. How could she help it? The sandwich was
that
good. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. That little moan was sexy, Em.” He winked at her and she felt her cheeks heat with a blush as she returned her attention strictly to the sandwich.
Damn the man. He really knew how to get to her.
“You shouldn’t have given up half your lunch to me,” she protested, even as she took another bite of sandwich heaven.
“Don’t worry so much. If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you buy dessert.”
“Dessert?” She gulped. “If I hadn’t planned a big lunch, what makes you think I intended to have dessert?” She took a sip of her diet soda, meeting his amused gaze.
“You were operating under the erroneous conclusion that you need to lose weight. I disagree and, after all, I’d be in position to know whether or not you need to shed a few pounds. I had my hands all over your curvy hips and tight tush last night. Believe me, they’re perfect.”
Her mouth went dry as his voice dropped to that intimate, rumbly purr. How could he get her all hot and bothered sitting in an airport deli, for goodness sake? The guy ought to come with a warning label.
“Well . . .” She had to clear her throat and take another sip of soda. “Thank you for that endorsement but the scale says otherwise. I don’t plan on dessert today but you’re more than welcome to get something for yourself. I shouldn’t be eating this sandwich.” She shook her head as she took another bite. “But it’s so good,” she said in between mouthfuls.
“I like it when you give into temptation, Em.” There was that sexy tone again. It made her want to squirm in her seat. “You should do it more often.”
With him around? Emily was afraid she’d be doing it more than was good for her.
She was saved from answering when her cell phone rang. She looked at the number and answered. It was one of their charter passengers.
“Eat up. We have to be back at the hangar in half an hour. Our passengers concluded their business sooner than they expected.”
Sam didn’t have to be told twice. He practically inhaled the rest of his lunch and was finished well before Emily. He cleaned up while she ate the last bite and they headed back to the hangar together moments later.
“Guess our FOWs got lucky today,” she said as they went through the terminal to the pilot’s entrance. “They’ll probably be in a good mood on the way home.”
“FOWs?” Sam asked, as she’d expected.
“Friends of Warren. This is Omaha. Who did you think they were going to visit? Their meeting was at Berkshire Hathaway.”
Sam looked amused at her little joke. Omaha was the headquarters of one of the most famous investors and businessmen in the country, if not the world. Emily had flown more than one charter of folks eager to meet with the man himself.
“No kidding.” He seemed impressed.
“Try not to listen if any of them give you stock tips. Praxis Air officially frowns on insider trading.”
She felt surprisingly lighthearted after their meal. Enough to joke around with him, though she still wanted to know why he had been peeking in the cargo crates this morning. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure he was telling the truth about that, but she also found it hard to distrust him. Everything she learned about him made her like him more. She hoped she wasn’t that bad a judge of character.
Chapter Seven
A
s predicted, their passengers were in a boisterous mood on the way home. Champagne flowed in the cabin as they celebrated some business deal or other. Emily didn’t know exactly what they were celebrating and she didn’t really care. It wasn’t her job to care about that sort of thing. All she was supposed to do was fly the plane and get her passengers where they wanted to go on time. As long as she did that, it was all good.
Normally, the
hands off
attitude was one she cultivated in her pilots and herself when it came to their clients. Of course, this was a routine job for a reputable business client. The flights she’d become most interested in lately were anything but routine.
As she drove the jet through the clouds on the quick hop back to Wichita, she thought about the problems that waited for her back at base. This trip was a break from her worries but it would be over all too soon.
Those cargo crates Sam had been nosing around were of interest to her as well. She wanted to know what he’d seen inside, if anything, but didn’t know how to ask without potentially causing herself more trouble.
She hoped Sam wasn’t working for Scott Southerland but she didn’t have definitive proof one way or the other. She’d been going on her gut instinct with Sam so far. Unfortunately, Sam had a way of confusing her senses until she wasn’t sure what was up and what was down. She wasn’t sure whether to trust her instincts with him or not.
“Penny for your thoughts.” Sam’s voice broke into her reverie.
She sighed heavily and brought her attention back to the cockpit and the approach they were about to make back to their home air strip. Sam was landing the jet this time while she worked through the checklists and handled the radio calls.
“They’re not worth that much.”
“You sure? You looked worried. If anything’s troubling you, I can be a pretty good listener when necessary.”
“There’s nothing wrong. Really. I suppose I didn’t get enough sleep last night and it’s catching up with me.”
“Couldn’t sleep? Funny, there was a lot of that going around last night.” She met his gaze and saw the fire leap within. An answering arousal shot through her veins as he smiled invitingly. “Next time, you should come over to my place. I’d be happy to rock you to sleep anytime, Em.”
As long as that rocking included the joining of bodies she could see so clearly in her mind’s eye, she doubted she’d get much sleep. He would tire her out though. Of that she had little doubt.
“Kind of you to offer,” she tried to bring the conversation back to safer ground. His innuendo had just about melted her socks off. “But I’m sure I’ll catch up on my nap time tonight.”
A radio call interrupted their conversation and it was all business until Sam set the jet down, light as a feather on the rainy runway in Wichita. The passengers stopped to thank them and the leader of the group handed out hundred dollar bills as if they were mere pocket change. Tips for services well rendered.
Emily saw Sam’s bemused expression as he pocketed the hefty tip. It didn’t look like he was used to big spenders and being in a service industry where every once in a while, good service was rewarded with an awkward awarding of cash.
“Can I keep this or is there some policy against accepting tips?” Sam whispered as the charter passengers walked away.
“You earned it. It’s yours.” She smiled at him. “If a client wants to tip, that’s their prerogative. We don’t encourage or discourage it. It’s purely up to the client and there’s no rule against accepting. A lot of our guys supplement their income with passenger trips. You make more tips when there are actual people on board than cargo. That’s why the new emphasis on cargo flights has been somewhat unpopular among the pilots.”
Sam’s attention was caught by something over her shoulder. The little frown between his eyes made her turn to see what, or who, was coming toward them. She shaded her eyes to see better and then let out a little “squee” as she ran to meet her twin.
Henry swept her into a big hug and swung her around, manhandling her. He gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek as he lowered her back to the ground.
“When did you get in? How long can you stay?”
“I landed about an hour ago and I have to leave tomorrow morning.”
“That soon?”
“I already checked your schedule, squirt. I know you’ve got a flight tomorrow afternoon so even if I could stay longer, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Okay, okay. I just missed you. Really, really missed you.” Much to her surprise, tears gathered in her eyes.
“Hey now, little sis. What’s wrong?”
She hadn’t been able to confide in her twin about her suspicions. He hadn’t been home since well before the board meeting and the near miss right after it that had scared her so badly.
She blinked back the tears and pasted on a bright smile. This wasn’t the time or place to tell him. They needed privacy.
“Not here. I’ll tell you later.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Later. Don’t worry. And don’t let on that there’s anything wrong.”
“I don’t like the sound of this, sis.” His frown deepened and she could’ve kicked herself—or him—for being seen like this. If Scott had her under surveillance, she didn’t want her watchers to see anything out of the ordinary.
“For goodness sake, try not to look so grim.” The annoyance in her voice must’ve gotten through to him. He wiped the frown from his face and casually looked around. She knew the moment his attention was snagged.
“Speaking of grim, who’s the giant staring me down like he wants to rip me apart limb from limb?”
She looked over her shoulder and sure enough, Sam was watching them with a speculative look in his eye. She tried her best to suppress the little thrill that went through her at his marked attention. Was he jealous?
“That’s the new guy. Sam Archer. He’s flying with me for the next few weeks.”
“Really?” Now her brother’s somewhat hostile gaze settled back on her.
“Don’t look at me like that. He’s strictly a coworker. Stop imagining things.”
“I’m not imagining the way he’s looking at you. Or at me.” Henry seemed intent on watching Sam, and Emily rolled her eyes. “Don’t look now, but your new guy is coming this way.”
“Not
my
new guy.
The
new guy,” she tried to clarify but there was no time. A second later, she could feel Sam behind her. Henry held out his hand and Emily turned sideways so she could see them both.
“I hear you’re Emily’s new copilot. I’m Henry Parkington.”
Did she discern a hint of relief in Sam’s expression when Henry identified himself as her brother? Maybe she was imagining things.
“Good to meet you. I’m Sam Archer.”
“So my sister said.” They ended the handshake and began the time honored male tradition of sizing each other up. Emily had seen this before. It was the modern day equivalent of beating on their chests and swinging from trees, or so she’d always believed.
“You’re the twin,” Sam observed.
“Yup.” Henry put one hand on her shoulder in a clear message of ownership.
She allowed it for a moment, then stepped deliberately away in her own show of independence. She knew how to play this game. Being the only girl in a family of overprotective men, she’d picked up a thing or two over the years. She decided to break the tension and leave the boys to their testosterone party.
“I have to finish up a little paperwork and then we can go,” she told her twin.
“Sounds good, squirt.” He touched her arm as she turned to go. “I don’t have wheels, so I’m dependent on you for transport.”
“I’ll meet you by the parking lot door in about ten minutes. Okay?”
“Roger that.” He tipped his hat at her as she walked away.
She looked back to see the two men talking. They seemed to be conversing the whole time she walked toward the hangar. What could they be talking about? She had the sinking feeling they were talking about her. Oh, not out in the open, but skirting the issue the way men did when they wanted to make a point. The idiots.
“Are you interested in my sister?”
Straightforward. Sam liked that.
“I think that’s between me and your sister,” Sam hedged.
Henry Parkington cursed under his breath. “So you are interested in her.”
Sam folded his arms over his chest. He wasn’t going to confirm or deny until he had no choice. Here was an opportunity to learn more about Henry and his twin. He’d take it and run with it while he could.
“Just watch your step, Archer. I watch out for my sister.”
Sam nodded. “I have no doubt on that score. But you should realize she’s a grown woman. Whether she and I get together or not, that’s our business. Not yours.”
He thought he might’ve overplayed his hand but he couldn’t help but speak his mind. This situation was suddenly too important to him on a personal level. If the gods were smiling and Emily turned out to be an innocent bystander in this dangerous drama—and if she was as interested in Sam as he was in her—then he wanted to be up front and honest with her family from the outset. He knew damn well that was a lot of ifs. Still, something inside him told him he had to be himself with this man, her twin, if there was to be any hope of a future.
Of course, he was just dreaming when it came to the future. He doubted a woman like Emily would want him. Not with all the baggage currently accompanying him wherever he went. There was the dangerous nature of his job along with the unknown and potentially life threatening side effects of the serum he’d taken to save his life when exposed to the zombie contagion.
Then there was the whole zombie thing. Until that was resolved, he shouldn’t even begin to entertain the idea of getting involved with anyone. Especially Emily. He didn’t want her exposed to that. If his gut was right and she was innocent, he wanted to keep her safely away from any possible action on the zombie front.
Henry was watching him, holding his tongue while he took Sam’s measure.
“What’s your story? You’re military.”
“Army,” Sam confirmed.
“You must not have been out long.” Henry was clearly fishing for information. Sam would have to tread lightly.
“Long enough,” Sam hedged.
“What unit were you in?”
“82nd Airborne. Why? You going to check me out? I thought Em said you were Air Force.” Sam let the challenge come out in his voice. Let Emily’s twin know he wasn’t a pushover.
“I have friends in airborne,” Henry countered. “But somehow I get the feeling you were more than just regular airborne.”
“You have good instincts.” Sam figured it wouldn’t hurt to hint at the truth.
His heavily doctored personnel file for Praxis Air contained some of this information. It wouldn’t hurt his cover. The real danger could come from lying outright to Emily’s brother. That could cause big problems for his cover story.
“Rangers?” Henry asked. Sam nodded in reply. Henry’s mouth thinned to a frowning, unhappy line. “Green Beret?”
“Need to know,” Sam said, both confirming and stating the need for quiet on this topic.
“Shit.” Henry said a few more curses under his breath before turning back to Sam. “So what the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m a pilot. I needed a job. Here I am.” Sam shrugged.
“And that’s all there is to it?”
“If it weren’t, I still couldn’t tell you.”
Another round of cursing followed before Henry turned back to him.
“Who, exactly, could tell me?”
“Nobody you know.” Sam could see Henry was working up a good head of steam so he decided to cut him some slack. “However, if there turns out to be more to it, I think you’ll be finding out soon enough.”
That stopped Henry in his tracks. Steely blue eyes turned on Sam. “You wouldn’t be shitting me, would you?”
“No, sir.” Sam had said more than enough. Anything more and he might as well draw the other pilot a diagram. “You’ll have to be satisfied with that for now.”
“I’m not satisfied,” Henry said quietly, his frustration clear. “Not with any of it. But I’ll live with it for now. But know this—if you set one toe wrong, I’ll have your ass in a sling, Spec Ops or not. Is that clear?”
“Clear,” Sam acknowledged. The man had a right to try to protect his sister. It said a lot for him that he cared enough to try.
The tension lasted for a few more seconds before Henry began to relax.
“So I outrank you?”
“I believe you do, Major Parkington.”
“What’s your rank, Archer?” Henry seemed more curious now than hostile. They were on more familiar ground now with this discussion.