Authors: Sharon Calvin
In the midst of patting his empty chest pocket for cigarettes, Stillman squinted at Ryan. “That would be a little hard to do since I’m not gay.” He aborted his furtive search. Shit, in a moment of insanity, prompted by the last conversation with his ex, he’d quit smoking. For Queeny.
Ryan laughed and shot a quick look at the dance floor before returning his attention to Stillman. “Yeah, I got that loud and clear. I’m talking about your Reserve Army status.” He picked up a couple more coasters and began shuffling them back and forth. “I didn’t realize you hadn’t told Caity, or I would’ve kept my mouth shut.”
Well, hell, that explained the overbright smile Caitlyn gave him when he’d returned to their table with Clay. But it didn’t explain Ryan’s behavior. “Why would you be willing to keep a secret from a crew member you respect?”
Or, maybe he’d read the copilot right the first time. The “outing” had been deliberate. A way to get Stillman out of the picture so Ryan could keep Caitlyn for himself.
“You’re different from her usual doctor dates.”
The coaster shuffling stopped. Stillman met his look without blinking. Ryan might have home field advantage, but Stillman had more years of experience. And Queeny was a woman who called for a lot of...experience.
The conversation stalled when the waitress delivered Stillman’s beer. He took a healthy swallow and let the bitter bite ease some of the tension from his belly. He wasn’t afraid of a little Coastie competition.
“Caitlyn dates doctors, does she? Looking for a wealthy husband?” Hard to imagine, but then she’d come from a large family with little money. That tended to color a woman’s perspective on marriage, something he’d learned from Hilary.
Ryan’s eyes widened before he burst out laughing. “Hell, no. Caity-girl wouldn’t give up her commission for any amount of money.” He tossed the coasters on the table. “No, she needs a guy who can stand up to her. She figures doctors’ egos are about as big as hers.” He grinned, leaned over the table and punched Stillman’s bicep. “Hell, you’ve got ’em all beat. You’re a doctor and a military helo pilot. They don’t make egos bigger than yours.”
* * *
Caitlyn watched Ryan cuff Stillman’s shoulder. “What the heck is he doing, bonding with the enemy?”
“Lighten up,” Joe said, crowding her on the dance floor. “You liked him well enough before you knew he was army.”
She stopped dancing and glared at Joe. “Hey, just whose side are you on?”
He smiled and put his arm around her shoulders. “Yours, Queen B. Always yours. Look, the waitress has Ryan’s birthday cupcake ready.” He turned and motioned Clay over. “Come on, we have to help embarrass the son of a bitch.”
The Mexican bar and grill, an unofficial Coastie hangout, was known for staff who took delight in singing bawdy sailing songs for any and all celebrations. Caitlyn had called ahead to arrange the party. Part payback for the one Ryan gave her on her birthday, and more importantly, to get Clay out of the funk he’d been in.
Stillman’s hearty laugh rose above the off-key singers and her chest tightened. He looked over and caught her staring. She angled her head up and gave him her best
Mona Lisa
smile. Dr. Butt Head wasn’t going to know what hit him.
Caitlyn slipped her arm around Joe’s waist and ignored his surprised chuckle. While she had no intention of using her crew to make Stillman jealous, she did want him to know they were her family. Unlike the army, the battles her crew fought rarely involved guns, but the specter of death rode them hard on every mission. The bonds they forged were as tight, and unbreakable as any of those Black Hawk crews developed.
Catcalls, whistles and loud clapping accompanied the final birthday refrain from the singing waitstaff. Ryan’s face matched the booth’s red vinyl when Caitlyn, Joe and Clay joined him. Stillman stood, then slid in next to Caitlyn, sandwiching her between him and Ryan while Joe and Clay sat across from them.
“Just how old are you?” he asked, leaning against Caitlyn from shoulder to knee to see Ryan on her far side, scattering her thoughts like rain in the wash of
Fly Baby
’s rotor.
“He’s the old man of the crew now,” Joe said as their waitress set bowls of fried ice cream in front of each of them.
“Hey, only thirty-one,” Ryan clarified between bites of dessert.
Stillman’s body tensed against Caitlyn.
She turned in time to catch a questioning look aimed at her. Great, would he think she was too young for him?
Stillman shifted again, this time running a length of her hair between his fingers before tucking it behind her ear. “So, you’re what, twenty-nine or thirty?”
She could only nod, her voice suddenly gone at his touch. A girl could float for hours in the warm blue of his eyes.
Caitlyn heard Clay’s laugh but blood thundered through her ears under Stillman’s intense appraisal. Her crew’s presence, along with the clink and buzz of restaurant noises faded, her body and brain convinced she and Stillman were alone.
Ryan snapped his fingers in front of her face and she jumped.
“Army, what rank are you?” he asked, pressing against her like an overbearing big brother.
Maybe she shouldn’t encourage such close family feelings. She poked her elbow in Ryan’s ribs, smiled at his muffled grunt and almost missed Stillman’s quiet reply of, “Colonel.”
She sat up. Either he was a lot older than he looked, or he was very good at his job.
“Full bird?” Joe asked, then whistled when Stillman nodded.
A cold fist squeezed Caitlyn’s stomach. Army promotions only came early for one reason. War experience. Violent, often deadly, and decidedly heroic.
She set her dessert spoon on the table and crossed her arms over her stomach. Problem was, after Johnny died, she’d vowed never to love another hero. That most definitely included a sexy doctor who apparently flew army Black Hawks for fun.
“Well, I can see you’re hard at work with your
volunteer
activities,” a decidedly sarcastic female voice said from the end of their table.
Stillman froze then swore softly under his breath. Caitlyn looked past him into the frosted gray eyes of a sophisticated-looking blonde. Mid-to late-thirties, the woman was impeccably dressed in a raw silk sheath the peach of a tropical sunset. Her expression, however, was more of a storm warning.
“Hilary, what a surprise. Actually, this is my new Coast Guard crew. We’re celebrating our copilot’s birthday,” Stillman said with what Caitlyn thought was commendable calm. “Everyone, this is my ex-wife, Hilary Gray.”
Hilary narrowed her eyes at the “ex” qualifier and Caitlyn didn’t bother hiding her smirk. This was getting better and better. Hadn’t Stillman said his wife left because he hadn’t given her luxury cars?
She thought of Stillman’s little two-seater plane and his fierce joy in flying aerobatics. No way did Mrs. Ex belong with Dr. Butt Head. And while Caitlyn wouldn’t risk her heart on him, she saw no reason to let that barracuda think for one second she could have him back.
* * *
“Relax, Caity’s got everything under control,” Ryan told Stillman.
His assertion did little to calm the acid shooting holes in Stillman’s gut. Caitlyn had neatly herded Hilary to the bar for a private “girl talk.” He hadn’t heard any screams yet, so maybe they really were talking.
Clay finished his beer and chuckled, sounding a little on the drunken side of sober. “She’s in full bitch mode.”
Stillman glared at the kid. “Don’t even—”
“Explain to the good doctor what you mean before he rearranges your face,” Joe said.
Clay’s eyes rounded, making him look like a scolded pup. “Uh, no sir, I didn’t mean any disrespect to the lieutenant! B-I-T-C-H is her acronym for Boys I’m Taking Charge Here. T-that’s why Joe calls her Queen B. I would never say anything dis—”
Stillman held his hand up, stopping Clay’s hasty explanation-cum-apology. “At ease, soldier, I get it.” He could easily envision butting heads with Caitlyn over everything. She appeared to be as much a control freak as he was. He caught himself reaching for his nonexistent pack of cigarettes and swore.
Joe laughed. “Gave up smoking, did ya?” He gestured with his beer to Stillman’s aborted search. “Since I’m the only one here with an ex, I’m gonna stick my nose in. I got the impression from Caitlyn you’d just moved to Florida. So, why is your ex here? Did she move here with you?”
“Got any kids?” Ryan added before Stillman could answer Joe.
Stillman ignored the way his heart accelerated at the mention of kids and shook his head. That had been the first of many disagreements in his marriage. He looked around the table and three pairs of eyes stared back at him with undisguised concern for their lieutenant and friend.
“No, thank God, no kids. But I’m never sure what goes on in Hilary’s mind. She’s marrying one of my father’s partners, so I don’t have a clue why she wants to see me.” At last she’d have all the money and prestige she’d craved.
Maybe the Gray Institute was going to open a branch in Florida. That would explain Hilary’s fiancé’s presence, anyway. He picked up his beer and took a drink.
Joe nodded as if he’d experienced the same illogical behavior himself.
“Maybe you should leave while you can,” Ryan suggested.
Chuckles bounced across the table and he relaxed. Yeah, he’d enjoy flying with these guys. They agreed Wednesday afternoon he’d begin his official volunteer training on Coast Guard flight protocols. Now, all he had to do was avoid his ex-wife and convince Caitlyn he was worth an exception to her no-military dating rule.
He had no illusions that either of those would be easy missions.
* * *
Caitlyn gave up pretending to like Hilary and concentrated on not strangling her instead. The woman was in serious denial. As in, she was convinced Stillman belonged in his family’s cosmetic surgery empire.
A blind man could see there wasn’t a chance in hell of that coming to pass. And if Caitlyn heard one more reference to “Stillman Gray
the Third,
” like he was some kind of god, she
would
strangle the bimbo.
They sat at a small corner table away from the drone of TVs and Coasties avidly watching a sailing event taking place halfway across the world.
“I can’t understand why he volunteered to help the Coast Guard. The man just returned from a horrible time in Afghanistan and moved to the middle of nowhere. Obviously he’s not making rational decisions.” Hilary moved her wineglass around the napkin, having taken only one tiny sip since its delivery. She looked at Caitlyn with downturned lips.
Fascinated, Caitlyn stared. Botox had to be behind the lack of frown lines between Hilary’s overplucked brows. Since she was acting so friendly, Caitlyn chanced a question of her own. “Why does he fly? I would think the army would want to protect their doctors from those kinds of risks.”
Hilary fluttered a hand and Caitlyn caught the glitter of a multicarat ring. “Because they’re infinitely obtuse. The man joined right out of college in a fit of rebellion. After he was wounded in Iraq he returned to the States, and his senses, and went to medical school.”
Caitlyn’s stomach auto-rotated to the floor. Stillman had been wounded? How badly? Her frantic imagination almost blocked Hilary’s next line.
“But his reserve status is still as a pilot—they didn’t value him enough to change to medical corps. Fools,” she added and picked up her glass of merlot.
Caitlyn tapped her bottom lip with a long lacquered fingernail. Well, well, well. Wartime experiences probably explained his pursuit of emergency medicine, even his need to volunteer as a flight surgeon.
“Look, I’m sure you worry when your boyfriend does whatever it is the Coast Guard does, but you certainly don’t fret about him dying,” Hilary said, gesturing with her glass.
Caitlyn shook her head as if her hearing had failed. Fret? Boyfriend? “I don’t date Coasties—” She stopped abruptly as realization sank in. And burst out laughing at Hilary’s narrow-minded assumption. Obviously, the woman thought Caitlyn was nothing more than Ryan’s ornament.
Hilary looked confused even as she smiled in a blind response to Caitlyn’s laughter. What the hell. She leaned close to Hilary and spoke softly in her ear. “Sorry, I’m only interested in the army reserve doctor, not a Coastie.”
* * *
Stillman heard Caitlyn’s husky laugh as he approached the corner table where she and Hilary sat. His earlier unease dissolved even as Caitlyn’s sexy voice caused a different kind of tension in his gut. Then he frowned. He couldn’t picture the two women having a damn thing in common. Caitlyn leaned over and said something to Hilary that had his ex jerking back as if stung. He lengthened his stride. Great, he was just in time for the catfight.
Caitlyn stood and spotted him, her smirk turning into a groin-tightening smile with a wicked wink chaser. “Speaking of doctors, or was that sexy devils? Stillman, honey,” she cooed, “Hilary was telling me all about your military career.” She slipped her arm around his waist and plastered her body against his. “I just love a man in uniform.”
Her fluttering eyelashes would have made him laugh except Hilary bounced out of her chair, knocking over her glass of wine. Stillman couldn’t tell if her look of horror was due to the red stain on her dress or Caitlyn’s outrageous conduct.
With a twist of regret he gently disengaged the redhead from his side and gave her a stern look. She crossed her arms under her breasts and lifted them as if on display. He didn’t need her adding fuel to Hilary’s already wacky behavior.
“Ha, ha. Hilary, this is
Lieutenant
Caitlyn Stone. In case she forgot to mention it, she’s a helicopter pilot with the US Coast Guard.”
His ex-wife’s cheeks flushed the color of her spilled wine. “Well, isn’t that convenient for both of you.” She stood with her back rigid and indignation stamped on her face. “Stillman, we need to talk. I realize you probably had other plans for the evening,” she said with a withering glance aimed at Caitlyn, “but I don’t intend to stay in Florida any longer than I must.”
“Gee, guess that’s my cue to leave. Hilary, it’s been...enlightening,” Caitlyn said. She blew Stillman a kiss then sauntered away with hips swaying like a gunship avoiding enemy fire. His smile faltered when he turned back to Hilary. He couldn’t ignore the hurt look that made her appear uncharacteristically vulnerable. Hell, he didn’t need conflicted feelings for his ex, he preferred thinking of her as a shallow mercenary.