Explosive Alliance (Wingmen Warriors #9)

Explosive Alliance (Wingmen Warriors #9) Page 8

"Nah? Really? I never would have guessed."

"No need to be snarky." She slumped back into her seat amid a symphony of hello-barks from the dogs in the boarding kennels.

"Lady, I'm actually complimenting you, here, because I figure you had to be smart enough to know that—" he nodded toward the air-hack again "—isn't worth top dollar."

"And you are?" She couldn't resist jabbing defensively.

"You bet your fine ass I am."

Damn his arrogance and—

 Fine ass ?

 Hers?

Heat tingled along her skin, then cooled. He must have some agenda here for dishing outrageous compliments. She'd barely understood why he would want to spend an afternoon with her. But two weeks? That went beyond logical. Something was up, and she hated that she didn't know what. There had been enough secrets over the past years.

She studied him through narrowed eyes until he frowned.

"What?"

"I can't figure you out."

"Quit trying. It's been my experience that women spend a lot of time searching for something in a guy when the obvious answer was right there in front of her face."

Great. She was darn near blind.

"How about clueing me in to the obvious, then?" Not that she intended to take him up on his absurdly generous—and suspicious—offer. However, it would be reassuring to know why he'd made it.

He stared out over the runway as if gathering fuel for his argument. God, he really was too handsome—strong cheekbones and jaw set in a classic face that belonged on some Renaissance statue. And how ironic was it that her crummy vision even gave him a sort of halo effect?

"Well, Captain? What's your reason for this altruistic offer to help a couple of strangers in North Dakota?"

He shifted in the seat to face her, square jaw set. "I feel bad about what happened to you because of your husband. I'm here and I want to help you if I can, add in the fact that I really like to fly and now have a couple of weeks off. Let me tell you, time off's a rarity in the military these days, with everything that's been going on overseas."

His flexing hands over the steering wheel drew her attention from his face. The sinking sun cast a rosy hue along the scars until they appeared angry and fresh instead of faded with time. Those hands held a story, and somehow she sensed it would make him more human—more intriguing—than even those slightly crooked teeth.

"If you need to unwind, why not go to Mt. Rushmore? Or you could check out the.

Badlands and some of their casinos."

"Thanks, Madame Tour Guide. Been there. Done that. And lucky for you, I have a private pilot's license and would rather hang out with you. Must be your charm and gratitude." His eyes flicked with sarcasm.

Contrition itched. "Sorry. But you're being rather pushy here."

He shrugged. She bit back a sigh. Heaven help her, she was surrounded by Alpha males determined to lead the pack. "You have to admit this sounds rather suspicious. Why would you help us for nothing, because, trust me, the pay's next to nothing."

"You can lower the defensiveness. I do want something out of this bargain that has nothing to do with money."

Uh-oh. Dry-lightning alert. The hairs on her arms rose while the rest of her tingled with thoughts of want and need and fulfillment. "Like what?"

"Flight hours."

Huh? "Flight hours?"

"I'll get free civilian flight hours, and that actually is worth more than you would expect outside the military world." With his wrist draped over the steering wheel, he drummed his fingers along the dash as if picking out a tune. "Here's my pitch, I'll hang out to fly you and your brother on your rounds in exchange for using your plane to log in some hours on my own when you're off duty. The Cessna's a different plane, different challenge than the C-17, and it does cost to fly. A lot."

And didn't she know it? She'd about choked when she saw the appraisal for Seth's plane.

Even used, it was priced at about the same as a decent-size house.

Bo's logic made sense, and it wasn't his fault her husband had been dishonest. Bo didn't deserve her defensiveness, and he most especially didn't deserve her anger, but where was she supposed to put it all?

"You're only offering to save my pride," she said with a feeble last attempt at self-preservation.

"I'm offering to save your fine ass from a crash." He angled closer over the bench seat.

Not that anything would happen with Kirstie asleep in the back, but sheesh he was in her space big-time. "What did I say a second ago? Don't go looking for a hidden agenda. And you do have a fine—"

"Stop. Please." Laughter tickled her raw stomach lining. God, it was fun to be lighthearted in the middle of the mess her life had become. "No more ass discussions, if you don't mind."

"I'm a man. I enjoyed the view. So sue me." He smiled, showing off those too-cute, slightly crooked front teeth again. His smile faded to seriousness. "But don't do something stupid like turn down my offer."

He had such a way of making things sound logical. Or was that cute smile of his addling her brain? "If you go around helping everyone this much, it's a wonder you have time to work."

"Don't make me out to be some altar boy who searches for needy folks to help. Believe me, the picture doesn't fit."

"So you weren't an altar server?"

Red stained his skin just above his collar. Who'd have thought bad boys blushed?

Boy?

All man.

"Okay, so I was an altar server. But I was a very bad one."

That, she believed. "So why does this bad man want to help me?"

"I can't just stand by doing nothing when there's a problem and I have the means to solve it."

Spoken like a true Alpha, which actually brought some peace and understanding. There might be more to his agenda and she should probably keep digging, but bottom line, she had to accept. There wasn't really any other choice. Vic was probably already firing the temporary pilot, anyway.

Maybe she could resurrect her economy-size bottle of Tums for a couple of weeks, not a crutch, but more of a survival ration around this man. "You're right. It's an incredibly generous offer that I can't afford to turn down."

That wits-addling smile began to creep over his face again.

Paige held up a pointer finger. "I still have to talk to my brother and cousin, though." She gestured out toward the thin strip of runway where the blurry pilot leaped from the craft while a big blond blob she assumed was her brother slumped against the side. Uh-oh.

That awful, huh? "It's Vic's vet practice and Seth's plane. And they would also have to deal with firing the other guy, who happens to be a student of Seth's from his stint teaching at a flight school before he joined up with Vic."

Although even Seth admitted the guy was rock bottom of his class.

"Fair enough."

"Might as well do that now. Vic will be walking over in a second."

She reached for the door handle, already wondering what her overprotective lug of a brother would have to say about this turn of events.

"Christ on a crutch, Paige." Bo's low whistle turned her around before she reached in to retrieve her snoozing daughter. "That walking mountain is your brother? I thought the mosquitoes were monster big. What about your cousin Seth?"

"Seth's even bigger, lumberjack material with a beach bum facade, and how strange is that since there aren't any beaches here? He wanted to fly for the Air Force, even started ROTC at the University of Miami. But then he grew again and was too tall. All the farm feeding and fresh air, I guess."

"Poor dude. That sucks for him."

She looked at her brother—the blond blur ambling her way. Hmm. He was tall. Funny how she just thought of him as the pest who'd cut her favorite Barbie's hair off. She turned back and found Bo already unbuckling Kirstie with ease. Accepting his help could become a habit even in two short weeks. She needed to establish boundaries, and for once she might not mind her hulking relatives' help with that. "And, Bo?"

"Yeah, Paige?"

"They really don't like it when anyone checks out my ass."

 Don't be an ass, Bo reminded himself, not for the first time. Charm always won the day, hands down.

Hefting Kirstie the rest of the way out of her seat for Paige, he slammed the passenger door closed and started toward her behemoth blond brother who was saying goodbye to the inept pilot. Good thing the temp was getting into his car to leave so they could get right to the discussion of a replacement, something that had to happen pronto. The guy hadn't even tied down the plane, for God's sake.

Bo kept his steps slow but purposeful, giving himself a few extra seconds to think—and assess her brother. Making sure Paige didn't climb into the Cessna with that joke of a pilot was too damn important to screw up because his libido wanted to think for him.

Hitching Kirstie over against his shoulder, Bo thrust out his other hand. "Good afternoon.

Rokowsky. Bo."

"Vic Jansen, Paige's brother," Jansen answered with a heavier lilt to his Dakota accent than his sister. The overgrown veterinarian in a John Deere hat and blood-caked jeans gripped back, firm and hard in that unspoken male measuring ritual.

Bones once crushed groaned in protest. Bo kept his face clear and returned the shake without a flinch. "Nice to meet you."

Maybe.

"So you're the Air Force captain Kirstie was telling me about." Without elaborating further, Vic Jansen pulled his hand free and turned to his sister. "How did the air show go today? You're home early."

"We had a wonderful time. Bo showed us around and shared details about the aircraft we wouldn't have gotten on our own. It was great, right up until Kirstie ate too much and—"

Paige swirled her hand in front of her mouth "—you know. Then my glasses slipped off and broke when I held her over the nearest trash can, so I couldn't drive."

"Sounds like a full day." He nodded to Bo. "Thanks for seeing them home safely."

"No problem at all, dude. It gave me a chance to check out—"

Paige's face blanched.

"—some of the countryside." He subdued a smile. He might be reckless enough to razz her about her excellent back view, but he wasn't stupid enough to announce it to her brother. Especially when he needed to win this man over to his side, something he couldn't do with Prickly Paige around.

Bo passed Kirstie, leaving Paige no alternative but to take the kid. "You probably want to put her down."

"Bo—"

"What?" He flashed his best earnest look her way. "I just want to talk to your brother about our discussion."

"Fine, but I'll be right out in a few minutes. Don't wander off without me." Backing away, she met him gaze-for-gaze with a look that said she wasn't letting him steamroll her by joining forces with her brother.

Damn. He liked her more by the second. And she really was easy on the eyes with all those soft curves he sure wouldn't mind explor—

"Rokowsky," the behemoth rumbled.

Crap. She hadn't been joking about the big guy's radar when it came to his sister and men.

Bo jerked his gaze off the fine view of her striding past the kennels of yipping dogs.

"Jansen."

"My sister moves fast." He gestured toward Paige already charging around the clinic entrance toward the front porch. "I expect she'll have Kirstie down and settled in two minutes flat. So say your piece quick."

Bo lounged against the quarter panel of the truck, keeping his body language laid-back.

"Paige tells me you're in a tight financial spot with your cousin's bashed-up ankle keeping him out of the cockpit for a couple of weeks."