Cheryl Wyatt - A Soldier's Devotion

An inviting brilliant blue today, it canopied the vast acreage of Refuge Drop Zone’s grounds. It housed miles of public and private areas in which they did things as a team for hours each day. Things ranging from rigorous exercise to practicing nighttime military HALO jumps and daytime training to all-out fun with leisure landings.

Adjacent to that closed-off area resided the acreage where they conducted classes meant to train novice skydiving patrons proper body mechanics before they learned to solo or tandem skydive.

The space between Miss Distraction and Petrowski closed rapidly as Aaron sprinted to catch the woman, still rushing across the large lot to her car. She was liable to break her ankle wearing those spiked heels in the gravel part beyond the enormous asphalt section.

It had cost Joel a huge chunk of his savings putting that asphalt in when he’d bought the place after their team stationed in Refuge. Now the team was raising and saving money to help Joel pave the rest.

Why had Miss Distraction parked so far from the building? For exercise maybe? He could tell she did that regularly, too, because a woman didn’t get those shapely legs and toned arms solely by being a desk jockey. Not that he’d noticed. Really.

Miss Distraction indeed.

His nickname for her held sudden duplicity. Sure his sarcastic mind had made it up initially because her distraction was the cause of his disaster. But, watching her move in ways he couldn’t help but appreciate as a man…Miss Distraction took on a whole new meaning.

Vince grew aware of the increasing weight of his teammates’ gazes. Choosing to ignore them rather than contend verbally or mentally with what their curious and knowing expressions insinuated, he went to the back room and grabbed his helmet and the keys to his old bike.

“Where you going, dude?” Chance stepped inside the doorway.

“To check on the lady’s aunt. I feel bad now for what I said.”

“Rain’s in the forecast. I’d feel better if you didn’t ride your old bike. Le’me drive you.”

“Sure you don’t mind?”

“Nah. Be glad to. Haven’t had lunch, anyway. We’ll grab some grub after we go see about the young lady.”

“Correction. Her aunt.”

Chance jangled his car keys and grinned. “Right.”

Vince cradled his helmet in the crook of his elbow and hawkeyed Chance. “Don’t make more out of this than it is, Garrison.”

Chance’s dimples deepened but he pressed the palms of his hands gently in the air. “’Course not.”

“I mean it.”

Chance laughed as they stepped into the sunshine. He eyed Vince and coughed out a couple more laughs.

Irritation dogged Vince. “Mind telling me what’s so funny?”

“She’s got your mind all twisted up.”

“Does not.”

Chance paused, snorting. He dipped his head toward Vince’s arm. “Then why do you still have the helmet? My driving’s not that bad.”

Vince pressed his lips together to form a worthy excuse or a solvent retort, but nothing came to mind.

Instead, he felt his own sudden grin give way to an out-loud laugh. His earlobes heated.

Chance stopped. “Wow. Dude. This is a first.”

Vince scowled. “What?”

Chance leaned in with focus. “I think you’re actually blushing. Wow. The abominable Vince has feelings.”

“So what? Everyone gets embarrassed sometimes.”

“Really? You’ve been embarrassed?”

He laughed. “Once.”

“When?”

When was the last time he’d been embarrassed? “Eighth grade when snooty girls in class teased me for wearing the same sets of outdated clothes every week, that’s when.”

“Ah, dude. Kids can be so mean.”

“Yeah, well, when there was not enough money for food, new clothes weren’t even on the radar.” Not on Vince’s lawn-mowing and paper-route salaries.

One of the snooty schoolgirls’ dads owned a law firm in town, too. Figured.

Sympathy showed in Chance’s normally serene eyes. “Sorry, man. I had a good upbringing and loving parents. I can’t imagine how hard your childhood was.”

The pity in his friend and fellow teammate’s voice caused Vince’s stomach to ball up into a cringe. “Look, whatever. I’m just…distracted these days.” Vince set his helmet on the floorboard of Chance’s red Cherokee.

Same shade as Miss Distraction’s glimmery lipstick today.

Not that he’d noticed.

Chance tossed his head back and laughed. Good to hear it. Honestly, the guy was so quiet normally it took a vocal excavator to get anything out of his mouth.

The youngest PJ on the team at twenty-five, Chance was painfully shy, but for some reason, not so much around Vince. The two of them plus Brockton, who was a year younger than Vince’s twenty-seven, were the only three remaining single guys on the team, so they tended to band together and hang out more these days.

“You know you really shouldn’t have thrown that cute little bear.”

“Cute?” Vince pulled a face. “You know I’m not into cutesy things.”

“Not even the woman?” Chance navigated the Jeep from the DZ lot.

“Not even.” Besides, not that he’d admit it to Garrison yet, but the woman was beyond the realm of cute. Make-a-man-gawk gorgeous was more like it. Intelligent eyes. Soothing voice. Authoritative demeanor.

Transparent faith, something he secretly respected in anyone, even if he didn’t share it. Bold, heartfelt prayers. She’d talked to God like Joel and Aaron and the rest of the Christians on his team did right before missions. Like God was their friend or something.

Yeah. Miss Distraction was all that. And probably more.

And suddenly, Vince wanted to know the “more.”

But, remembering the hurt and humiliation in her vulnerable eyes back at the DZ, he’d likely bombed the foundation of any amicable bridge with her.

And if she were anything like his sister, she’d never cross it on her own. He’d have to make the first move.

Never ever had he such a strong desire to risk those shaky first steps.

“Never ever,” Val seethed on the way to her car. Never again would she subject herself to this. She blinked back angry tears.

She’d only seen the man down. The lethal creature storming from the back room looked nothing like the vulnerable one on the road that day in the rain. He’d been intimidating enough that she’d taken two steps back for every step he’d taken toward her.

The man who’d said he was Sarah’s fiancé had shaken his head at Vince. Subtle, yet Vince stopped in his tracks. But the look in his eyes said he was none too happy about her being there.

Never would she look back.

Trust Me.

“How? When he can’t even stand to look at me?” She flung her rental-car door open and threw herself in the seat. Her hand twisted the key when a knock caused her heart to jump. She removed her hand from her throat and rolled down the window.

Sarah’s husband-to-be leaned in. “Miss, I apologize on behalf of Vince.”

“He has every right to be angry. I shouldn’t have come.”

He knelt. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Why did the compassion in his voice cause hers to clog? “Give Sarah my regards. And tell her thank you.”

Aaron eyed the DZ then Val. “You could tell her yourself.”

Val eyed her clock. Two minutes more and she had to leave. She shut off the ignition. “What are you proposing?”

“Sarah’s also new to town. She could use a friend.”

“How do you know I’m new?”

“West Coast accent for one thing. For another, your license plates are out of state. Saw your car when I took Vince to check on his bike.”

She nodded. “How’d he swallow seeing it?”

Aaron grinned. “How do you think?”