Authors: Adrianne Byrd
Blue Skies (7 page)
For Sydney, opening her mouth was easy; forcing words out of it was another thing entirely. However, as she held the woman’s gaze, a thought occurred to her. “Did he send you over here?”
Niecy laughed. “Quite the opposite, I assure you. If he knew what I just told you, he’d have my hide.”
“So you’re a friend of his?”
Niecy fell into a brief silence--the first since she’d taken her seat. “Once.”
Sydney’s gut twisted with jealousy as she rolled her eyes. This felt very high school. Now that she thought about it, it seemed like the perfect juvenile game Jett would revel in. “Then you won’t mind telling
your
friend something for me.”
Niecy’s smile dimmed.
Sydney cast a glance over her shoulder and just as she suspected Jett’s steady gaze remained leveled on her while men around him chatted away without his participation.
“Tell him, I find his antics: silly, his so-called charm: dull and immature, and his pretty-boy looks: a complete turn off.”
Captain Post stared, blinked, and then rocked her head back with a hearty laugh.
Sydney wondered whether she lunched with a mad woman.
“I get it,” Niecy declared.
“I’m happy for you.” Sydney grabbed her tray and pushed back her chair.
“Wait.” Captain Post placed a staying hand on the corner of Sydney’s tray. “You’re mad. Don’t go.”
“I’m not mad,” she lied. “I just don’t like playing games.”
“I swear to you, Lt. Colton didn’t send me over here. Though, right about now, he’s probably wondering what I’ve said to set you off.”
Sydney studied the stranger’s face and questioned her own mental health. Why should she care whether or not the woman spoke the truth?
“Please. I was out of line. I apologize.”
Aware that a few unwanted gazes skittered her way, Sydney gave the woman a slow nod, and then pushed her chair back up to the table.
Niecy’s smile returned, brighter and wider than before. “Are you really not interested or are you playing hard to get?”
Sydney released a long frustrated sigh. “Are you really this annoying or are you just pretending?”
That comment successfully shaved a few inches off of Captain Post’s lips. “Look-”
“No. You look.” Sydney leaned forward, determined to end this childishness for once and for all. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say concerning Lt. Colton. Not now, not ever. And while we’re at it, I’m not here to make new friends either. I have plenty. In the sky, in combat, you’ll never have to worry. I have your back. I’ll risk my life for you
and
for my country. None of that means we have to be friends. In fact, I’d prefer that we weren’t.”
The women’s gaze locked and held.
“Bullshit,” Niecy proclaimed. “You don’t have any friends.”
Against her will, Sydney’s poker face melted. “You got me.”
Curiosity and fear was killing Jett as he watched Captain Post and Captain Garrett whisper and toss narrowed glances in his direction. Before Trenese joined the equation, he honestly gave himself a fifty-fifty chance of charming his beautiful fighter pilot. Now, his odds lingered somewhere in the realms of ‘a snow ball chance in hell’.
Lunch ended all too soon. He watched the women as they gathered their trays and clustered together during the walk back to class.
What was Post telling her? What wouldn’t she tell her?
His mind raced over the possibilities-and there were a lot of them.
Jett believed Trenese had seized an opportunity to thwart whatever plans he had for or with Sydney because he had turned down several of Captain’s Post advances. ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorn’, Jett’s older brother, Xavier, drilled into his head. Why hadn’t he listened?
Sarah, Cathy, Nancy, and Melanie had all been friends or associates of Trenese, much to his dismay-more so now than ever. Jett could just imagine the horror stories his
former
friend took great delight in rehashing to Sydney.
Jett Colton was a dog, a smooth talking ‘playa’ who’s after one thing. He stopped his wild musing scenario and reflected for a moment. Maybe there was some truth in that description.
A few times Jett tried to focus on what Maj. O’Keefe’s speech.
“The mission of the 414
th
Combat Training Squadron is to conduct air power training exercises known as Red Flags. A red flag is a realistic combat training exercises involving the U.S. and its allies.”
Jett’s attention boomeranged back Sydney. He studied and committed to memory her studious profile. He rather liked the long, graceful line of her neck, the inviting softness of her skin, and the long, lush curl of her eyelashes.
If he had to use one word to describe her beauty, it would be:
perfection
. What made Captain Garrett so intriguing was either she didn’t know or didn’t care about her effect on the opposite sex.
“Any questions?” Maj. O’Keefe thundered as his dull green eyes searched the faces of his captivated audience.
When no hands shot up, the major nodded his satisfaction. “Good then I will see everyone here tomorrow morning at 0700 hours-make sure you remember to bring your flight suits. We’re hitting the skies. Dismissed.”
Everyone sprung from the chairs and filled the classroom with a low murmur as they filed out of the door. Once again, Jett remained his seat.
He waited and prayed to catch Sydney’s eyes; however, as she gathered her things, Sydney’s gaze darted in every direction-but his.
Captain Post was another story.
Jett felt her heavy gaze long before he looked at her. When he did, Niecy resembled a cat with canary feathers protruding from her mouth. He narrowed his gaze and gave her the slightest nod, signaling his declaration of war.
Captain Post moved next to Sydney and the women fell into another easy stream of conversation. When they walked past his desk, Jett strained to hear Sydney’s words.
“You can have him,” Sydney said and marched out the door.
Jett closed his eyes and groaned. This might be the shortest war ever fought.
Chapter 9
“So do you like him?” Steven’s question filtered through the phone line.
“Of course not,” Sydney’s indignant voice bounced off the bathroom tile and boomed back at her. As if chastened, she sank deeper into the lavender and honeysuckle scented bubbles and scrubbed the same clean spot on her knee until it glowed red raw. “Haven’t you’ve been listening to what I’ve been telling you? The guy is an arrogant ass.”
Steven chuckled. “I like him already.”
“Will you get serious?” she snapped. “I have to spend the next nine weeks dodging this jerk. He’s lucky I didn’t report his manhandling to our C.O.”
Steven said nothing as Sydney launched onto a new soapbox.
“When women bitch about the military’s overly testosterone jerks it’s viewed as we can’t handle the heat,” she ranted. “If I file just
one
complaint it will sink my career, and you know it. Let’s not talk about what could have happened if someone walked in when he was kissing me!”
“Wait. He kissed you?”
Sydney cursed under her breath. She hadn’t meant to share that tidbit of information.
Amusement seeped back into her brother’s voice. “Did you kiss him back?”
“No,” she stressed and ignored the prick of consciousness for lying.
“Uh, huh.” Steven’s doubt resonated through the line.
“Forget it.” She straightened up the tub and shook her head. “I don’t know why I bother talking to you.”
“Because you don’t have
any
friends,” he laughed. “I’m your brother, your best friend, and your diary all rolled up into one. Lucky me.”
“I’m hanging up,” she threatened, but had no intentions of doing so.
“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be like that,” Steven pleaded with a soft laugh. “How do you expect me to act when you tell me this guy kissed you and you didn’t punch his lights out i.e. Bobby Blalock?”
Sydney rolled her eyes at the memory of her senior Academy Ball. “He tried to do more than just kiss me,” she reminded him.
“Most guys do on prom night, but none of them end up in the emergency room with a broken arm and rib.”
A laugh tumbled from her lips. “Okay, maybe I overreacted.”
“Ha!” he barked. “
Now
you admit it?”
Her smile widened. To tell the truth she was rather proud of herself for teaching Bobby “Octopus Arms” Blalock when a woman said ‘no’, damn it, she meant ‘no’. “I admit nothing,” she chuckled.
“Figures.” Steven released a long exhalation. “So what
are
you going to do about this ‘Jett’ character? If you’re afraid to report-”
“I never used the word
afraid
,” she corrected. “I said it would sink my career. There’s a difference.”
“All right. You want your big brother to fly up there and put this guy in his place?”
“No, I don’t need anyone to fight my battles,” she sulked and played with what few bubbles remained in the tub. “I just wanted to vent. That’s all.”
“Venting accomplished, Captain,” Steven said gruffly. “Now if you don’t mind, it’s time for me to hit the sack. I have an early morning appointment.”
“You?” She asked not bothering to mask her astonishment. “Wait. What do you consider being early?”
“Noon.”
She laughed. “I should have known.”
“Don’t hate. I’m not interested in ‘doing more than most people all day by nine a.m.’ I’m quite content to study the back of my eyelids around that time.”
“I just bet you are.”
Steven’s ability to just go with the flow was one of the things Sydney loved about her brother. Routine, regime, and discipline smothered him. He was never meant to work for ‘the man’ as he liked to put it and he sure wasn’t going to join his military. It was strange, Steven, the spiting image of their father, inherited their mother’s free spirit, where Sydney, who was her mother’s replica, inherit her father’s personality.
Steven emitted his first yawn of the evening. “So. What you’re going to do?”
“Do?”
“About your Romeo.”
An instant image of Jett’s penetrating golden eyes somehow knocked the chill off the tub’s cooling water. “There’s only one thing I can do. Stay the hell away from him.”
As Major O’Keefe promised, the students of the 414
th
met and suited up for their first advance air combat training. To her surprise, she had been teamed up with the ever-exuberant Captain Post. Sydney swallowed her groan because, she and Post were the only women in a class of seventy and she could sense the men in the squadron were already siding bets that the ‘girls’ were easy prey.
“This is not a game,” Maj. Maxwell barked. “This is a test,” he stressed, marching in front of the group outside of the hanger. “Three teams go up—only one team will be declared a winner. The rules? There are no rules-as long as you safely land the plane in one piece.”
The men turned to each other for immediate high-fives and Maj. Maxwell had to shout above the din of hoots and hollers.
“This is a one time thing. We want to see everyone’s natural ability and instinct behavior. Remember, this is not a game—nor a time to show off. The purpose of this test is to see how well you engage the enemy
and
how well you get out of a jam.”
Sydney thrust up her chin; already feeling the rush of adrenaline and the itch to prove her place in the squad-and, of course, to prove that she was a damn good pilot.
Minutes later three sets of teams were organized and Sydney and Captain Post were strapped into their jets and ready to rock-n-roll. It was the first time in a long while that she couldn’t tell whether the accelerated beat of her heart was due to her love of flying or the fact that she was going against Lt. Blocker and Lt. Colton.
The three sets of teams took off into three different directions to follow their instructors and immediately performed a quick-list of test. During such things, Syd struggled to keep her ego in check and not to give into the temptation of becoming a showoff. Her experience in the Academy taught her the hard lesson of just how much the Air Force frowned on such behavior.
When she and Post finished their test they were instructed toward their test fly-zone. During their short flight to their designated area, Syd had only one objective: teach Lt. Jett Colton a hard lesson.
Jett glided through the air, feeling very much like the Prince of the skies-ready and determined to prove just who was the Top Gun. Almost immediately upon entering the test fly-zone, he and his wingman, Lt. Tyler “Puck” Johnson, were under attack. From whom, he was unable to ascertain; he just knew he had to shake the flyer before they were able to get a lock on his plane.
This proved more difficult to do when more planes entered the zone and turned what he perceived to be a simple cat and mouse game into a full-blown war attack.
Lt. Johnson was the first to go down, while Jett managed to escape more than one close call. Twenty minutes later, he eliminated one pilot from team C. In no time team B-Captain Post and Captain Garrett-eliminated the last member from team C, which left the playfield to two against one.
Jett felt like a mouse in a field of starved cats. However, he remained a slippery and elusive mouse for his prey for thirty more minutes before he nearly eliminated Captain Post in a perfect execution of a glide and roll. He didn’t see the trap until it was too late when Sydney, popping up from nowhere, got a lock on him.