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Wingman (Elite Ops) by Emmy Curtis (5)

It was late—or maybe it was early. Missy rolled over in the darkness and stretched. Then she snapped her arms back in to her body as she realized where she was and who she was with. Shit. The night came flooding back. She looked at his sleeping face. The face that until last night had been that of a colleague. Now everything had changed.

She wanted to smile, but her face wouldn’t let her. It was a sadness that descended through her bones. This was illegal. They could both get fired for it. Their careers would be ended—just because they couldn’t keep it in their pants.

But also, could this be her closure? She knew him well enough to know that she was just Tuesday’s entertainment. He would be on to someone else tomorrow, or maybe the next day. She knew that. And she wouldn’t let it hurt when he did.

Casual and breezy, that’s what she had to show him.

This was it—closure. She would just have to make sure her transfer paperwork was finalized. There was no way she could let what had just happened influence her decision to stay. And she knew just how persuasive Conrad could be.

But right now? She had to get out of the lodging while everyone was still asleep. How could she look in his eyes again? See him without remembering?

Damn, girl. You’ve got to get your shit together. She slid out of the bed, grabbed her clothes, and took them to the bathroom.

She switched on the light and checked her phone. It was 4:00 a.m. Just time enough to get back to the barracks before Eleanor awoke. Conrad had virtually fucked away her brain power, enough that she couldn’t quickly come up with a reason she’d been out this long. Especially dressed the way she was.

Fuck! They were supposed to have been in the hangar last night. Shit-fuck. Briefly she contemplated waking Conrad and getting them both the hell down there. But she didn’t want to talk to him about this shit yet. Hell on wheels.

She made up her mind. She’d slip out of lodging, head to the hangar, ruffle up their cots, and then run back to barracks in time to get in the shower before Eleanor awoke.

She walked through the reception area with her head down, in case anyone she knew from the other squadrons was there. But it was deserted, thank God.

As soon as she hit the street, she ran along white lines in the center of the empty road as she always did. That was the beauty of the base here. They redirected traffic in the mornings so troops could do their PT without getting run over.

She banked right onto the flight line and kept running until she reached the F-15 and F-16 hangar. The door was unlocked, of course, so she slipped right in. It was completely dark except for the ambient light coming from the mechanics’ office on the mezzanine level. Someone had left a computer running probably.

She found their cots on either side of their F-15. She stopped and steadied her breath. Was there someone there? She spun around, only to see the shadows of the aircraft pulled into the hangar, nose to tail, wingtip to wingtip. She held her breath to see if she could sense the air moving around an intruder.

But no. There was no one. She mussed up her own cot, scrunching the pillow and pulling the blankets back, and was about to do Conrad’s, too, but, with an evil smile to herself, decided to hang him out to dry and see what excuse he’d come up with when the crew asked him why he hadn’t slept in the hangar. The thought of him struggling to find a good answer made her giggle to herself. Poor Conrad. Of course, he didn’t have to explain himself to anyone, but she knew the crew would ask. She just hoped she’d be around to see him blush.

Looking around one more time, she picked her way carefully around the aircraft, ducking under their wings. There was no one there. She was going mad. She blamed Conrad for her brain being on the fritz. Taking one last look around, she bailed, closing the door quietly behind her and running back to her barracks.

“Well, well, well,” Eleanor said as soon as Missy opened the door to their shared quarters. “I never imagined to catch you doing the walk of shame at this hour. Don’t you know you’re supposed to be in the air in a few hours?”

“Shhhhh!” Missy said, closing the door quietly behind her. She figured no one else on their floor would be waking up for another hour or so.

Eleanor was sitting in the one armchair in the room, with her PC on her lap. “Help yourself to a cup of coffee.” She nodded toward the pot on top of the small fridge.

Missy dumped her bag on her bed and went to pour the coffee.

“Oh my God, you totally got laid,” Eleanor gasped, closing her laptop.

“What? How do…Why would you say that?” Missy stumbled unconvincingly over her words.

“You just sashayed across the room. And unless you’re doing it for my benefit…”

Missy went on the offensive. “Well, what are you doing up so early, wearing the same clothes—” She broke off. “Oh my God, so did you!”

They stared at each other for a second, then burst out laughing. Missy raised her coffee cup in a salute.

“Here’s to deepening international relations with our NATO partners,” Eleanor said with a grin, lifting her own cup in response.

“Really? With a foreign national? You rebel!”

Eleanor just raised her eyebrows lasciviously and tucked her feet under her. “Are you going to tell Conrad?” she asked.

Missy winced.

“Oh my God!” Eleanor shouted before clapping her hand over her mouth. “Seriously? That’s…I don’t know what that is. Wonderful? Career-ending?”

Missy took a deep breath. “Closure. That’s what it is.”

“Are you sure? Are you still requesting your transfer?” she asked.

“Now more than ever,” Missy replied firmly. She was completely convinced that she’d made the right decision. Getting out from under Conrad’s career path and forging her own and doing it with at least three states between them sounded like a good plan to her.

“What does Conrad think?”

Missy took a deep breath, trying to suppress the rage she’d felt earlier. “He feels that I should stay with him until he’s reached his own personal career goals.”

Eleanor nodded thoughtfully.

Missy was a little pissed that she wasn’t more outraged on her behalf.

“I can’t honestly say I blame him. You’re the best weapons officer in his squadron. You read his mind, can anticipate his every operational need, and if I flew an F-15 and needed someone in the backseat, I’d want to hold on to you as long as possible.”

“No. I’m sorry. You can’t bring your reason and stupid pilot-logic to a personal grudge.”

“You’re right. He’s an arrogant prick, and I hate him. But all pilots are, you know.” Eleanor shrugged and gazed at her cup of coffee.

“You’re not,” Missy said.

“Yes, I am. You just haven’t flown with me. I’m the worst, but I have to be. Otherwise those flyboys will stomp all over my mad skills, even though I’m a much better pilot than they are.” She grinned.

“You are right—you are an arrogant prick.”

Silence fell between them for a second. Missy hoped they’d have time to go out on the town while they were there. Eleanor was stationed near DC—which was fairly close to Langley Air Force Base, where Missy was stationed—but it was hard to find the time to catch up when they were working all the time and exhausted on their days off. Flying every day took its toll.

Then she realized she hadn’t been nearly as nosy as Eleanor had been. “So who made you do the walk of shame?”

Eleanor gave her a cat-who-ate-the-cream smile. “Have you seen that Typhoon with the traditional camo paint job?”

“No way! That’s the most beautiful aircraft on the field. I even asked Conrad if he’d find out if the pilot was single.”

“I bet he loved that! Well, he is. At least, I assume he is.” She frowned for a split second.

Missy wanted to reassure her, but experience had told her that there was a certain type of pilot who thought they could have every woman who had a pulse. Her heart lurched. Conrad was one of them, wasn’t he?

“You want to go out tomorrow tonight?” Eleanor asked.

Missy looked at the time on her phone. “You mean tonight?”

“Shit. Yes, I do. Today will be a struggle with so little sleep. But I’m a fierce napper, and we should be back from our mission around twenty hundred hours. Which is way before the festivities kick off in Vegas. Have I ever taken you to Bipartisan Measures?”

“Is that a show?” Missy was confused.

“No, it’s a bar. I had my first sexual encounter in the one in DC.” She cocked her head. “And one of my most recent.”

Missy gave a shocked laugh. “How do you do these things and never get caught?”

“I don’t do these things. Well, I guess I did…but…” Her voice trailed off, and her expression grew serious.

“What’s the matter?” Missy leaned forward on the bed. Eleanor looked worried. She’d never, ever seen her look worried—about anything.

Eleanor seemed to force a smile on her face. “Well, he has a British accent, so you know, all bets were off.” The smile became more natural.

Missy leaned back again and fanned herself with her hand. “Be still my beating heart.”

“I know, right? So tonight?”

“Hell yeah. I want to see the scene of the crime. Take photos, hear details…”

Missy’s thoughts turned to the mission. “We took out the Aggressor Squadron yesterday,” she said, trying not to look too triumphant.

“Not my team,” Eleanor scoffed.

“I knew it! I knew you’d made the Aggressors!” Missy crowed. She’d guessed that there was no way the Aggressor Squadron would take formation without Eleanor in their ranks. But she never expected her to admit it so readily. Eleanor was right. She did indeed have a true pilot’s ego.

“Don’t tell anyone. Not even Conrad.”

Missy held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“Don’t forget—I’ve known you for longer than anyone here. I know you’d only set foot in the Girl Scouts to steal their badges.” Eleanor raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

Missy choked on her mouthful of lukewarm coffee. “Okay, okay. Deal. My lips are sealed.”

A door closed in the corridor outside, and people started moving around. Missy groaned. “I guess a nap’s out of the question now.”

“No rest for the wicked,” Eleanor said, jumping up from her chair with amazing energy.

“Did you sleep at all?” Missy asked.

“I don’t need sleep to be awesome!” she said as she disappeared into the bathroom.

Missy longed to be Eleanor. Just for the day. Endless energy, a hot British guy, and an unshakeable knowledge that she was a winner.

Eleanor also didn’t have to fly with Conrad or have to confirm her transfer before he could talk her out of it.

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