Sweet Montana Christmas (6 page)

Desire tickled him.

“That is, if we pass the health inspection,” she added.

“Well, there's no danger of not passing, is there?”

The counterman slid the drink to him.

“Well, I think we've gotten everything ready. I upgraded where I needed to—the refrigerator, dishwasher, all our equipment.” She bit her lower lip. “There is one small problem. There was this leak. And I tried to fix it.”

Was she batting her eyes at him? He could almost hear what was coming next. How was he going to get out of her plumbing problem? Fix one thing for the woman, and he'd be one of her frequently called numbers.

Then they'd get to know each other too well. She'd depend on him, and when he left, she'd be hurt.

Her lower lip pushed out in something resembling a pout, but not quite. “The plumber was supposed to come out today, but he forgot. That's why I came to the gym.”

“You came to the gym to find a plumber?” How ditzy could this woman get?

“No, silly.” She put her hand on his arm.

The touch made his mind, which was yelling “No! No! No!” yield to his hormones, which were saying, “Hot damn!”

“I came here to work off the stress. He says he'll come out tomorrow, but what if he doesn't? The health inspector is due Thursday.”

“I can take a look at if you want,” he said.
Shit, shit, shit!
That's not what he meant at all. He needed to concentrate on building a reputation at the airport, not fixing this girl's plumbing problem.

Too bad Sue Anne was so damn good looking. Especially now that he'd seen her in her workout clothes.

“You're a plumber?” She cocked her head, a half smile on her face, her slightly dilated pupils staring at him like he was her hero or something.

He was committed now. He'd explain his situation to her while he fixed her pipes. That way everything would be out in the open.

“Well,” she said, “are you?”

“Of sorts. I grew up on a farm in Iowa. My dad fixed anything that needed it and taught my brothers and me how to take care of most everything.”

“Brothers? How many?”

“Two. One older, one younger.” Family was a good topic. Much better than plumbing. He should invent a girlfriend, too.

His gaze went back to her lips. What would they taste like a second time around?

“No sisters?” she prompted.

“Nope. After the third boy came along, my mother gave up trying for a girl.” He smiled. His mother was his rock. She'd let him pour out his heart about the Denver mess up, then coached him back on the road to follow his dream.

“Your poor mother.”

“Nah. She does okay. She has a t-shirt with the saying, ‘She who must be obeyed.' That's pretty much how it runs in my house.”

Sue Anne's laughter filled him with lightness and transformed her eyes into sparkles.

“My mother would like the world to run that way, but she'd never tell you directly.” Her smile dimmed. “She's more of a master manipulator.”

“Ah.” Sue Anne must be like her mother. Why else was he doing plumbing? “What about you? Any siblings?”

“No.” The smile was completely gone now, and the conversation seemed on the verge of tanking.

“What does she do?” He tried to start it up again.

“Volunteers at high society events. Places where she can be seen, maybe finally pick up a husband.”

Ouch. No love lost there. Family wasn't such a good topic of conversation after all.

“Can you come over to look at it?” she asked.

“At what?”

“The plumbing.” The smile was back, all trace of pain gone from her face.

Inwardly, he sighed. “My shift starts in an hour. How about late tomorrow morning?” The plumber might fix it before he even got there. Then he could buy some chocolates and leave.

Fat chance.

Zach's bones ached, never a good sign. As he drove toward the airport, his body told him he was going against his best interest. Helping Sue Anne with her plumbing was leading him deeper into the maze of interpersonal feelings.

Ugh. Even after he'd slimmed down and had more success with girls, he'd never been sure how they actually
worked
. His fights with Erin had confirmed his ineptness.

As he drove north on Reserve Street, he made his plan. He'd go to the shop tomorrow, fix the plumbing, get some chocolate, and that would be the end of it.

The big box stores slid by as he took the Broadway exit.

Time to focus on the day ahead. He needed to study, make sure there wasn't anything he didn't know about the FAA test. He couldn't afford to screw up a second time. Provided no one did anything foolish on the slick roads or runways, he should have time between his patrol shifts to study. He didn't know which he preferred—unending time when nothing happened or the heart-stopping craziness of an accident or problem.

Missoula was calmer than Denver, which was to be expected in a city thirty times smaller than the capital of Colorado. It was more a small town than a city. When he went out anywhere, the chances were good he'd run into someone he knew.

Like Sue Anne.

How was he going to avoid her?

The snow-packed mountain range to the southwest gleamed in the sun. He needed some outdoor time anyway. He'd give his buddy in Coeur d'Alene a call and see if he and his wife were up for a visit. That would get him out of town for a while. When he came back, he'd lay low, shop when Sue Anne should be at her store, and work out before his shift or early morning.

Good thing Gold's was a twenty-four-hour gym.

He grinned as he pulled into the parking lot. Game. Set. Match.

He was back in control.

Five hours later, he was no longer sure being in control was even possible. A meth-head tried to board a plane, travelers lost not one but two cars, and a dog that someone let off its leash somehow found its way into the baggage tunnels.

To add to his irritation, Pat had been chosen to run one of the training drills to prepare for the FAA test. It had been nine months since the last time the government ran Missoula through the hoops, so they were due for an Alert 4 in the next three months.

Alert 4. The exact same test he'd screwed up in Denver. Teams had three minutes to respond to an emergency on the runway. Three minutes could be a very short time on a runway made for long-distance carriers.

But Pat? Why not him?

By the time he headed into the terminal after the drill, Zach had built up a head of steam about being passed over. Without thinking it through, he knocked on the chief's door.

“What can I do for you, Zach?” Chief Johnson was a tall, thick-set, blond man, one of the many of Scandinavian descent who seemed to be everywhere in Montana.

No invitation to sit down. Not good.

He cleared his throat and stayed standing.

“I was wondering when I could lead a team drill. I've been studying my ass off, going over all the procedures. I'm ready. I've been here at least as long as Pat.”

“I know that.” Johnson cleared his throat. “But that's not the issue. Have a seat.” He leaned forward and folded his hands on the desk. “When I hired you, I took a careful look at your background. I talked to Denver to see if they thought the incident during the federal test was a one-time thing or if there was some underlying issue.”

Zach swallowed.

“They told me you had problems with some of the others on the team, and you let that interfere with your judgment. After the drill was compromised, the situation with the team became worse.”

That's 'cause those SOBs froze me out.

But he knew better than to say anything.

“They seemed to think you didn't have your mind entirely on the job,” the chief added.

“But I'm focused now. I learned my lesson.” He worked to keep the desperation from his voice. “I wasn't ready then because...” He stopped. What he was going to say? He was arguing with his girlfriend on the phone and missed the alert?

“We need full concentration.” Chief Johnson's eyes were steady. “People's lives are at stake. We're a small airport, but our customers still matter, from the gal who waits tables at Jedidiah's to our pilots and everyone in between, especially our passengers.” He tapped his finger on the desk. “They count on everyone in the team for their safety. And, more importantly, the team needs to count on every member to deliver service and keep each other alive.”

Was he getting a dressing down, or was he going to be fired?

“Now, I've seen how hard you're working to learn the airport and all the things you need to do.” The chief leaned back in his chair. “But you don't mingle with the guys. You're a loner.”

“I brought chocolates,” Zach said.

“I heard they were very good.” The corners of the man's lips moved up a fraction of a degree. “That was a good first step. Do more. The squad is a great group of men. Go out and have a beer with some of them sometime. Montana is a friendly place. There aren't many of us relative to the space, so we rely on each other.”

Zach's shoulders ached with the tension.

“Make no mistake.” The chief's words were clipped. “We can't keep someone around who doesn't fit in. So get over whatever's bugging you about Pat and learn to be a team player, or you'll need to find another airport.”

Frozen in the chair, Zach was silent. He couldn't fail twice. If that happened, he'd have to give up his career. No airport would hire him.

“I'll do what it takes.” He forced out the words.

“Good.” The chief gave a brief nod. “Now, was there anything else?”

“No, sir.”

Stiff-legged, Zach rose from the chair and left the room with a heavy heart.

• • •

Where was the damn plumber?

Sue Anne paced around the shop, Sugar following in her footsteps, the dog's unclipped toenails clacking on the wooden floor.

“You can't be in here when the health inspector comes,” she told the animal. With the impending opening, stress had turned her sleep time into tossing and turning nightmares. Even her pet's whines had gotten to her that morning.

How had she ever thought she could do this?

The February day was bright and clear, and sun streamed through the windows, dancing heart patterns on the floor. Tables and chairs had been delayed and wouldn't be delivered until mid-April, but she'd found a few the previous owners had left behind and painted them a bright red. They would have to do until the wrought-iron furniture arrived.

Cellophane-wrapped candies filled the shelves on the walls around the store. She'd fill the display cases, now gleaming from their efforts, over the next few days—ready for their opening on Monday.

She resumed her tour around the shop, pretending to examine everything again while she walked off nervous energy.

What if the plumber never showed up?

Someone knocked on the front door. Sugar took off for her customary hiding place in a small nook behind one of the shelves.

Finally.

“You're not the plumber,” she said to Zach, smiling with relief. “But you'll do. Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.”

“Thank me after I get it fixed. Now where is the problem?” The warmth that had been in his voice at the gym was missing.

Grumpy guy had returned.

“Back here.” She led him to the kitchen area. “Under the sink. I tried to fix it myself, but I think I made it worse.”

“So you said.”

“I unhooked the U-shaped thingy. All this stuff came out. Icky. Must be like when gunk pours into streams and pollutes everything. I wonder if we could invent something to prevent that from happening. You know, keep the gunk somewhere else, not in the streams.”

He set his toolbox down on the floor and pulled out a flashlight.

“That's what the sink trap is for,” he said as he knelt next to the pipes she had left on the floor. “Also to keep sewer gas from coming into the kitchen.”

“What's a sink trap?”

“That.” He pointed to the U-shaped pipe.

Amazing that one little hunk of metal could do all that.

She hovered, not sure what to do with herself. “Do you want any hot chocolate? The machine came in yesterday, and I haven't had a chance to use it yet.”

“Don't bother on my account. I've got to be on my way as soon as I get this done.” He slid half his body under the sink.

Oh, yeah. His sense of humor had taken a vacation.

“No problem. I want to play with the new machine anyway.”

Sue Anne intended to wash out the container at the sink but stopped when she realized there was no water.

Good thing he wasn't interested.

“Ah, got it.” Zach emerged from the cupboard. “I'm going to have to run to Ace for a few parts.”

“I've got some money in my purse.” She scrounged for her wallet and drew out a twenty.

“Nah, don't worry. It's only a few bucks. You can pay me back in chocolate. The squad really liked them.” A worried frown drew two lines in his forehead.

This was a man that needed cheering up. A chocolate fix should do. Maybe a little flirting. He probably just needed to get laid. That's what made him so grumpy.

Although with a kiss like his, he shouldn't have any problems in that department.

“Take a few for the road.” She perked up her smile like she'd seen her mother do a thousand times, looked at him from under her mascara-coated eyelashes, and grabbed a chocolate. Without hesitating, she popped it into his mouth just as he was opening it to say something.

As her fingers brushed his lips, his eyes widened, and for the first time since he'd gotten there, his gaze lingered on her face, the glint of interest back in his expression. Warmth ran down her arm, as if the sun had come out from behind a cloud.