Taking Cover (Wingmen Warriors #2)

Taking Cover (Wingmen Warriors #2) Page 31

And she knew now that's the way it should be.

Kathleen felt lonelier than ever, finally fully aware of what she'd been missing. After a taste of the camaraderie she'd experienced with Tanner over the past few weeks, how could she go back to her solo existence?

Sure, she'd proven her ability to work on a team in the professional world, but what about in a personal realm? Could she cut it as a wife and a mother?

Of course, who said the man even wanted to marry her? Yet how could a woman's thoughts help but travel that petal-strewn path while she watched a wedding so full of promise? The promise of things Kathleen wanted for herself.

When Tanner looked into her eyes, as he was doing even now across the chapel, she saw hove shining in those crystal-blue depths.

Love mixed with disappointment.

She'd let him down after they'd made love in the desert. How odd, but she'd never considered herself to be a coward. Yet she'd taken the safer route her whole life, giving what she could within the confines of academia, her own personal comfort zone, all the while respecting rules above all else. It was how she coped in a world that didn't always have a place for her.

Looking at Tanner and remembering his words to her after they'd made love, words she somehow knew he didn't scatter about easily, she wanted to step outside of her safe world and find a place for herself in his. She felt that she had changed, had grown since her mess of a marriage with Andrew.

Since loving Tanner.

And Tanner certainly was more of a man than Andrew had ever tried to be.

Kathleen sat straighter in her pew, eyes trained on those broad shoulders, the strong lines of his face softened by the boyish bump on his nose.

Could she do it? Could she tell Tanner she loved him, that she would give her absolute determined best to a relationship, and take things one day at a time?

Kathleen trained her eyes on the altar. The bride and groom oozed confidence, not a wedding jitter or nervous twitch between them.

Which was fine, because Kathleen's knees were now knocking enough for everyone.

Tanner had never seen a warrior goddess pass out. But he suspected Kathleen wasn't too far from hitting the floor of the base club, smack-dab in the middle of the reception.

Freckles popped out along her pale face. Her hand trembled as she lifted a glass of champagne to her lips. Had she even heard half of what the matron of honor had said to her?

Was she ready to listen to him now?

The reception was drawing to a close as were his duties as best man. The newlyweds had just driven off for their weeklong honeymoon at a secluded bed and breakfast on the barrier islands. Little Magda had left with her new grandparents. He would miss seeing Lori and Magda when they joined Grayson at his new assignment in Washington, but their paths would cross again, a surety of Air Force life.

After all, hadn't the Air Force brought Kathleen and him together again when he least expected it?

Standing near the bar, he only half listened to Lance, Crusty and Lt. Col. Dawson. Tanner found his attention too easily riveted on Kathleen as she stood talking with Julia Sinclair by the half-eaten wedding cake. As sharp as ever, Kathleen mesmerized him—woman and warrior in full-dress uniform. Silver trim and medals along her deep-blue jacket declared her a top-notch officer.

Her hair was swept up in some kind of twist. A stray lock brushed her jaw, declaring her every bit a woman.

Her to-the-floor pencil-thin uniform skirt tantalized him with memories of the slim legs beneath. Hot as hell, even shaking in her low-heeled shoes, she stirred an answering heat within him that never failed to knock Tanner flat.

Lance Sinclair finished off his drink and placed it on a passing waiter's tray. "Time for me to punch out. Congratulations again on nabbing your upgrade slot, bud. We can use more of your kind in the left seat."

Tanner thumped Lance on the shoulder. "Be careful out there."

"Will do." Lance flashed him a perfect-toothed smile. "Meanwhile, I've got forty-eight hours with Julia before I head back out, and I intend to make the most of it. Catch you later, guys."

Tanner watched Lance walk to his wife, then sling an arm around her shoulders as he passed her the keys. Military marriages took a lot of hits, as he'd heard often enough from Lance, but the Sinclairs seemed back on track. Some marriages weren't so lucky, like Lt. Col. Dawson's, but the overall average of the day was damned strong.

Lori and Grayson on their honeymoon. Lance and Julia finally ready to start a family. Loadmaster Tag and his wife, Rena, sending their first kid off to college.

Tanner eyed Kathleen as she smoothed aside her stray strand of hair. Yeah, he liked those averages and intended to do his best to increase the odds once his duties as best man were complete and he could get her alone.

Crusty tossed another stripped-clean chicken wing on his plate and wiped his fingers. "Any other cars you want to blow up or planes to steal before I go back to California? Maybe there's a train out there you'd like to derail? Take another bullet, perhaps?"

Lt. Col. Dawson hooked an elbow on the bar, flashing a thumbs-up. "Nice job figuring out the Edwards accident. But next time, could you work a little more panache into the finale? I mean, really, who hasn't stolen a national asset?"

Crusty scooped a handful of mints from a nearby bowl. "Hey, I did that just last Tuesday before breakfast."

The familiar, good-natured camaraderie wrapped itself around Tanner like a favorite well-worn sweatshirt. Across the room he could see Kathleen was receiving much the same treatment.

Lt. Col. Dawson followed the direction of Tanner's gaze. "All joking aside, you two did a damn fine job in a hellish situation. When it came down to the wire, you and O'Connell pulled together. She's got that promotion recommendation sewn up. You've certainly earned your upgrade. Just promise me that next time you're given pilot-in-command duties, you'll land with your aircraft."

"Sir, that seems to be sound advice." Hearing earlier that he had been returned to flight status and his upgrade slot was secured had been a relief, no doubt, but took a surprising back seat in his mind. Celebrations wouldn't be on his agenda until he settled things with Kathleen.

Lt. Col. Dawson's craggy face broke into an easygoing smile. "Like most flyers, I avoid flight surgeons like the plague, but O'Connell's a 'good troop'."

A rush of pride knotted in Tanner's chest as he heard the commander voice one of the highest praises—for Kathleen.

He'd told her they all respected her. If only she could hear it, see it, too.

An idea took shape in his mind. He'd wondered what be could do for Kathleen, what he could give the woman who seemed to need nothing. Even if she didn't want him, a thought he damn well didn't want to consider, he could give her this. "Sir, it's been great talking, but I need to find the club manager."

Tanner shoved away from the bar and wound his way through the reception hall toward the kitchen. Doubts dogged him with each step. What if he couldn't get through to her? What if his pattern of failed relationships continued now, when it mattered more than ever that he succeed?

But, if he didn't try, he would definitely lose out on the best thing ever to happen to him.

His feet slowed as realization tackled him. He'd told himself he'd tried with relationships, but he'd been lying to himself. He'd been so afraid of losing again he hadn't let himself get close to any woman he could actually love.

Faced with the possibility of losing Kathleen on the airplane, even now in a different sense, Tanner realized the best way to honor his sister's life was to get on with living his own. Time to let go of the past.

Tanner tapped the Officer's Club manager on the shoulder. "I need to buy a keg."

Kathleen scanned the crowd for Tanner again. If she had to wait much longer to get him alone, she would lose her nerve. Not to mention the four canapés she'd managed to choke down.

Then she saw his head bobbing above the crowd. Close-cropped blond hair glistened in the chandelier's glow. Tanner broke free from the crush of wedding guests as he moved toward the stage with a pony keg on his shoulder. Well, that would certainly make him the most popular best man around.

Tanner stopped in front of the band and slung the keg down onto the dais with a resounding thump. Vaulting up on the stage, be commandeered the microphone from the band leader.

"Excuse me, my friends, but I have one last speech to make. Given that I'm a man of few words…" Chuckles rumbled from the cluster gathered around the rostrum. "I'll keep it brief."

All eyes trained on him, not that it surprised her. Look for the crowd and Tanner would be in the middle, holding court. He made his minions laugh. People gravitated to Tanner because they felt good about themselves around him. She crossed her arms and leaned back to enjoy the show.

"Continuing in our squadron tradition of Anything, Anywhere, Anytime," Tanner said into the microphone, "since the bride and groom have left the building, we now have squadron business to transact. It has come to my attention, as the senior copilot, that a very important member of our unit has had the unmitigated gall to walk around without a call sign."

Kathleen eyed the keg. Shock glued her feet to the floor.

"No!" the crowd roared. "Say it isn't so!"

Tanner held up a hand. "I realize this is a foul, but it's true. And again, pointing out that I'm the senior copilot in the unit, I have taken it upon myself to remedy this situation before I drop back to the bottom of the food chain as the junior aircraft commander. Would the crew dogs please pass Dr. Kathleen O'Connell to the front?"

Good Lord, she was about to cry like a baby in front of her fellow officers.

Hands reached and hefted her up in a makeshift throne, lifted her high, passing her off to the next set of waiting hands. Kathleen stared down at the sea of faces underneath the bumbling but considerate hands. Cheering her on, familiar crew dogs in their crisp uniforms jostled her forward. All in fun. All including her, not at all on the outskirts. The transfer continued until Lt. Col. Dawson and Crusty lowered her to the stage.

Tanner turned to face her, his eyes intense in spite of his lighthearted tone. "Kathleen, we're very sorry we haven't given you a nickname up to this point. But usually there's a watershed event that drives the bestowal of the title. The past few days certainly qualify." He raised a broad palm and lowered it to the top of her head. "By the power invested in me by the United States Air Force, as the senior copilot of this unit, I dub thee … Athena. Warrior Goddess."

Cheers and applause swelled from the crowd as they surged forward. Surrounding her.

Tanner stepped back, leaving Kathleen in the spotlight. Men and women, families she'd come to know, cared for, served with, encircled her, radiating their respect.

Their acceptance.

She should have known Tanner wouldn't be a traditional flowers-and-candy kind of guy. In keeping with the nutcracker necklace and an Athena spike, Tanner had given her something far more valuable, so very special, because his gift had been chosen just for her. And she'd earned it in a way she'd never earned a spot in her family or with Andrew.

For the first time, she fit.

An hour later Kathleen felt Tanner's hand slide into hers. She didn't have to look over her shoulder to know it was him. She recognized his touch well as he stood behind her, supporting her without overshadowing.

Kathleen set aside her plate and broke off her conversation with Crusty. She stepped away from the bubbling champagne fountain toward Tanner. "Yes?"

He ducked his head and whispered in her ear, "Are you ready for that talk now?"

A nervous tremble started in her stomach, milder than earlier, but still there. Two days ago her answer would have been no, but she'd learned a lot about herself lately, about Tanner, about taking risks. She could handle those rogue nervous twinges, had to, because the payoff promised to be awesome.