Out of Uniform (Wingmen Warriors #14)

Out of Uniform (Wingmen Warriors #14) Page 11

Jacob parked between a pair of slush-caked 4X4s. “Ready to eat?”

“What?” The shadowy vision melted like the ice cream she would never see eaten. Disappointment avalanched over her, nearly smothering her with frustration. Dee reached for her seat belt and jabbed at the button. “Yeah. Sorry. I’m actually hungry.”

Three jabs later, she still couldn’t wrestle the buckle open. Jacob covered her hand with his and released the latch. His hand didn’t move away with the seat belt. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Could have been everything. “I’m just tired of how it feels like a memory is right there, but I can’t chase it down.”

Absently he caressed the inside of her wrist with a callused finger. “Maybe while we’re waiting for supper, we could play some word association games, see if we can stir up your past.”

“Good idea.” She wanted to imprison his hand. Better yet, haul him back into the truck, into an embrace, the only place she’d been where the insidious whispers of loneliness had faded.

Instead she allowed herself a selfish moment to rest in the heat of his eyes as they studied her, as they held her in a grip equally as powerful as his arms ever could be. His musky scent permeated the interior of the truck, and she breathed in the reassurance of pure Jacob.

Gently he released her hand. “Let’s get moving.”

So much for making new memories. She would be better served hunting for the old.

Climbing the diner steps, Dee leaned against Jacob’s arm until they reached the double doors. Nerves pattered a jig in her stomach. She assumed she understood the basics of etiquette, but she didn’t want to embarrass Jacob, even unwittingly.

Part of her wanted to hide out in her dark but familiar motel room until she remembered. Another, stronger part of her insisted she step back into the world if she ever hoped to regain her past and find her child. To do that, she needed Jacob’s help. The diner could well provide a wealth of information about him, a man who intrigued her, yet unsettled her. A man she had to trust with everything.

She strode into the restaurant with the long-shot hope that someone might recognize her. The inside of Marge’s Diner matched the outside decor. Long, rough-hewn picnic tables filled with customers lined the room, everyone from families to a table of military members in uniforms—more flight suits to torment her imagination. Apparently the appeal of this place enticed people to drive a long way in crummy conditions.

Dishes clanked, and voices mingled. A family of five studied the daily specials posted on a chalkboard over the cash register. The board also listed instructions not to tattle, spit, pinch or pull ponytails.

Dee loved it. She unwrapped her scarf from around her head, a sense of utter rightness coaxing her to step farther inside. She needed a haven, some bit of peace to end a day that had stunk. “Oh, Jacob, this place is great. No wonder it’s packed.”

“I had a feeling you might like it. You’ll have to tell Marge when she brings our order.” Jacob followed the waitress as she pointed to the empty table for two in the back.

A table that waited just past a field of inquiring faces.

Nerves returning like a bad penny, Dee stumbled back a step. She couldn’t shake the notion that someone was staring at her. Maybe they all were.

When they found out about her amnesia, would they label her a liar as Jacob had initially? Or would they think her a nutcase? “Maybe we should order takeout and go back to the motel.”

“Fried walleye demands to be eaten while hot.”

As he guided her toward the table, Jacob offered nods and offhand greetings to people who called out and slapped him on the back.

A hulking tall man in a green flight suit pushed back from his table and stood. “Hey, Mako, everything must have gone okay at the base. I didn’t expect you’d be done so fast.”

Jacob stopped, placing a steadying hand between Dee’s shoulder blades. “Dee, this big guy is married to Doc Bennett. Bronco, this is Dee.”

She extended her hand, preparing for a crushing grip. Yet the aviator shook with a firm but not-too-tight clasp. She’d liked his wife and found she already liked the husband, too. “Your wife was very generous with her time today. I appreciate it more than I can say.”

“You’re with Mako. That makes you one of us and we take care of our own.”

How much did he know of her problem? She didn’t plan to put it out there and he politely didn’t ask.

Jacob turned to the other man at the table who was holding a fistful of French fries. “This is Crusty.”

The wiry guy cranked a megawatt grin as he dumped the fries back on his plate, swiped his hand across his flight suit and shook hers with an energetic pump. “Great to meet you. My wife is gonna be torqued that we all got to see you first. Well, and that we saw Mako, too. Maybe you can talk this fella into accepting one of our dinner invitations before he heads back to Charleston.”

Dee didn’t know what to say to all of that so she simply smiled in return. Within seconds the men were discussing the flight the two had just completed and Dee let herself relax. Then suddenly she didn’t feel so calm after all.

Back to Charleston. Somehow she’d forgotten what Emily said about Jacob being stationed somewhere else.

Panic bubbled in her stomach. How could she have become so dependent on a man she’d known for a day and a half? But her life consisted of just those few hours and he’d filled most of them.

She forced her breathing to even out while they finished their conversation. Then, thank goodness, Jacob powered ahead without pausing to give anyone else a chance to ask the questions stamped in their curious eyes. She shook off the uneasy sensation of being gawked at and charged forward.

He held the chair for her before settling across the table. She forced her hands to steady, reminded herself to relax.

With a fingernail, she flicked the edge of a menu that peeked from inside an old school primer. “Can we not tell people about my, uh, memory issue just yet? I don’t want that to be everyone’s first impression of me—crazy amnesiac lady.”

“Whatever lowers your stress level. I didn’t say anything to the guys over there, in case you were wondering. I spoke straightaway with the doc and she’ll keep patient confidentiality.”

“Thank you.” Dee stole another glance at the diner’s patrons and wondered if everybody would treat her problems with as much care as Jacob had.

Table by table, diners stopped staring and returned to their meals. Except for one group over by the potbellied stove soda dispenser. Emily was standing there, draped over a teenage boy. They were with a group of seemingly normal, everyday kids.

A fragment of Dee’s peace edged away. What kind of life did her own child have? Was she missed along with trips to the park and ice-cream parlor? Dee couldn’t decide which bothered her more—her child crying for her or not missing her at all.

Jacob drummed his straw against the table absently. “Let’s try a word association game.”

Anything sounded better than waiting around for her past to magically unveil itself. Of course, it also made her all the more vulnerable to Jacob. What would she reveal unwittingly? “Okay. Ready whenever you are.” Liar.

“Home.”

An empty hall echoed. “House.”

“House.”

Stenciled cartoon airplanes along a wall. “Nursery.”

“Baby.”

Love. “Child.”

“Husband.”

Nothing. She drew a blank. Her head throbbed with the effort of trying to force an image. She pressed her fingers to her aching temples. “It’s fading.”

Jacob touched her elbow. “We’ll try again later.”

“Sure.” Dee swiped her hand over her forehead, feeling wobbly and caught between two worlds. She looked around the room to ground herself in the moment.

Her gaze hooked on Emily feeding French fries to the teenager she guessed to be Chase. His mother must be watching the baby, because Madison wasn’t anywhere in sight. Chase’s clothes hung from his frame. Broad shoulders filled out his oversize T-shirt and open button-down. Dee couldn’t help but think that if Emily were her daughter, she’d blow that boy out of the water for putting his hands so low on Emily’s hips, especially in public.

She could see the tension in Jacob’s jaw, felt an echoing frustration. What was the right answer for those two? She honestly didn’t know. They were stuck in such an awkward age, hiding all those confused feelings behind too much hair and droopy pants, teenagers trying on new personas like hats.

Was she much better off? Trying to find pieces of herself and patch them into a whole person.

Even if she discovered her old identity, she wondered how much of the new creation she would carry with her. She couldn’t imagine emerging from this ordeal as if it had never happened. Certainly her short time knowing Jacob would be imprinted on her brain long after she left Rockfish and this moody man behind.

“Supper was nice.” Clouds puffed into the night air as Dee spoke. “Thanks for the fried walleye.”

Outside Dee’s motel door, Jacob leaned against his truck fender. “No problem.”

He watched Dee clutch the doorknob behind her back. Was she reluctant to say good-night, too?

They’d shared a room once, but concerns for her health had offered a substantial cold shower. Tonight, especially after that kiss, his resolve was weakening.

A fleeting image of waking up next to her tormented him. He couldn’t leave fast enough. “See you in the morning.”

“Jacob—” Her voice reached to him.

Glancing back over his shoulder, he asked, “Yeah?”

“I appreciate your taking me to the diner and introducing me around. I needed that.”

“It wasn’t anything special.” As a matter of fact, it had felt too comfortable.

“Maybe not to you. But to me, it was blessedly normal, kind of like…catching snowflakes on your tongue. Magical in its simplicity. Thank you for that gift.”

Then she smiled. Just smiled, but the happiness spread all the way to her eyes.

Her beauty blindsided him like a surprise whiteout.

How could he have ever thought her merely pretty? She radiated something incredible that far surpassed an average word such as “pretty.”

A lock of hair slid free from her scarf and lifted with the circling winds. Drawn to Dee in spite of his better judgment, he shoved away from the truck and stopped in front of her. The wind at his back, he shielded her.

Her fingers fluttered upward and landed lightly on his head, dusting snow away. “You really should remember to wear a hat.”

He smiled down at her. “Sure, Mom.”

Her arm dropped back to her side again. Hurt dimmed her eyes. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He kept forgetting how prickly she could be. He folded the ends of her scarf over each other and resisted the urge to smooth his hands along her shoulders, cup the softness just below her coat. “You need to sleep. You didn’t rest much last night.”

“Neither did you.”

He wouldn’t tonight, either, with her scent still clinging to his sheets. Not that it mattered if he washed them. After a day spent together in the truck cab, his senses were saturated with her fragrance.

Dee traced squiggly patterns in the snow with the toe of her tennis shoe. “I enjoyed meeting your friends today. You must be itching to get back to work.”

Work which would take him away from here—and her.

A wry grin tugged one side of his face. “Yeah, I have to admit, I miss it, the flying and the camaraderie.”

“Even after getting shot?”

“Even then.”

“How did it happen?”

The day spread out through his mind, the surprise of it all coming during a low-key mission. “My C-17 was transporting a political contingent across Europe for goodwill visits to a number of countries over the Christmas holidays. On the last stop in Bavaria, some radical crook with an agenda tried to assassinate the—”