He was having trouble getting his head together, and it took a minute for her words to register. The sound of rotors had dimmed to a distant whir, and then they stopped altogether. “You mean, the helos? No way. They didn’t have their spotlights on, and their attention would have been focused on the landing pad, and not on the field. Besides, it’s too dark.”
“What if the pilots were wearing night-vision goggles?”
Withdrawing from the warmth of her body, Chance neatly disposed of the condom before reclining back on the blanket and pulling Jenna snugly against his side. “If the pilots were wearing night-vision goggles, and if they spotted us, then all they saw was my backside.” He pressed a kiss against her temple. “Don’t worry.”
Jenna made an incoherent sound that told him she wasn’t completely reassured, but before Chance could soothe her further, something hard and sharp dug into his hip. Reaching beneath him, he retrieved the offending object. He held it up, staring at it in bemusement. A set of military dog tags dangled from the end of his fingers, and since his own tags were fastened securely around his neck, he knew they didn’t belong to him. He turned to Jenna in disbelief.
“Are these yours?”
“What if they are?” Her voice sounded defensive.
“Jesus. Why didn’t you tell me you were active duty?”
“Does it matter?” Pulling her bra into place, she snatched the necklace from his hand and dropped the chain over her head so that the tags nestled between her breasts. Pulling away from Chance, she sat up and fished around on the blanket until she found her panties.
“Goddamn right, it matters,” Chance retorted, watching as she stood up to pull them on. Even as his thoughts raced through the various—and unpleasant—implications of what this could mean, he couldn’t help but admire her lithe form as she quickly got dressed. Unless she was a commissioned officer, he could get into serious trouble for fraternization, since contact with enlisted members was strictly prohibited. “Please tell me you’re not enlisted.”
She paused long enough to give him a tolerant look, and then balled up his discarded boxers and threw them at his chest. “Don’t worry. I may be a sucker for a handsome face, but I’m not completely brainless. I’m an army captain.”
Chance refrained from making the obvious rejoinder, too floored by her admission to crack any kind of joke. He could only stare stupidly at her. He definitely hadn’t seen this one coming. “So what is it that you do?” he finally managed. “What unit are you assigned to?”
She paused in buttoning her blouse and looked across the meadow and razor-wire fences to the runway and helicopter landing area. “See those Black Hawks? That’s my unit. I’m with the 10th Combat Aviation Brigade out of Fort Drum. If I hadn’t already exceeded my flying hours for the day, I would have been piloting one of those birds to the extraction site.”
For a moment, Chance was too stunned to speak. When he finally found his voice, it sounded strained. “You’re a Black Hawk pilot?”
Jenna thrust her long legs into her jeans and pulled them up, watching him warily. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Hell, no,” Chance assured her as he stood up and began to gather his own clothing. “I think it’s great! I mean that sincerely. Really.” He paused and scrubbed a hand hard over his face and laughed softly. A freaking pilot. Who would have thought? “You just surprised me, that’s all. As a matter of fact, I’m—”
“I know what they say about pilots,” she interrupted, “and most of the time, I’m in total agreement.”
Chance looked at her, puzzled. “What do they say about pilots?”
She shrugged and sat down on the blanket. Reaching for the bottle of wine, she poured them both a little more. “How do you know if you’re halfway through a date with a pilot?” She gave him an overly bright smile. “Because he—or in my case, she—says ‘That’s enough about flying. Let’s talk about me!’“
Chance laughed and lowered himself down beside her. “You haven’t talked about flying once tonight, but if you’d like, we can talk about you. In fact, you are quickly becoming my new favorite subject.”
He watched her closely in the indistinct light, wishing he could read the expression in her eyes. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. Who would have guessed that she was a freaking helicopter pilot? It shouldn’t have mattered, but for him it made all the difference.
She took a sip of wine, smiling at him from over the rim of the cup. “How do you know when there’s a pilot at your party?”
Chance had heard the joke countless times, but he shrugged. “I don’t know. How?”
“He’ll tell you. How many pilots does it take to change a lightbulb?” She waited, but when Chance didn’t respond, she continued. “Just one. He holds the lightbulb, while the world revolves around him.”
“Wow.” Chance gave a small huff of laughter. “Sounds like you don’t think very highly of your fellow pilots.”
“Oh, no. That’s where you’re wrong. I have a huge amount of respect for what they do when they’re in the cockpit. They’re some of the bravest, most talented guys I know.” She grimaced. “It’s what they do the rest of the time that bugs me.”
“Clarify, please.”
Jenna shrugged. “They’re incapable of handling a committed relationship. If they have to consider anyone other than themselves, they fail. Basically, they’re shallow, narcissistic, egotistical, arrogant—” She broke off abruptly. “Well, you get the picture.”
Chance blew out a hard breath. Her words both disturbed and disappointed him. “So … you dated a pilot and he turned out to be a self-centered jackass, is that it?”
To his surprise, Jenna shook her head. “No way. My opinions are based strictly on a lifetime of observation. I’ve never actually dated another pilot. In fact, I make it a point to steer clear of them—at least, romantically.”
Chance felt something fist low in his gut. “Oh, yeah? I’d think you’d be happy to have someone who understands what it is you do. Someone who really gets it.”
“Ha! The only thing they want to get is laid.”
“So I guess you’re performing true to form, then, huh?” Chance couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, look at you … you’re a pilot. What makes you so different from the guys? You clearly wanted to get laid, and you succeeded.” He gave her a terse smile. “Glad to have been of service, ma’am.”
He began buttoning his shirt, refusing to look at her, because if he did, she might see something in his eyes that he was trying really hard to hide.
Regret. Disappointment.
He shouldn’t care what her motives were for being with him. It wasn’t as if he was planning on seeing her again. They’d agreed that this wasn’t going to be anything more than a onetime hookup. No strings. No commitments. So why did he feel so miserable?
