Blue Skies (10 page)

“Hold your britches,” Niecy snapped but continued to lead Sydney to a secluded corner. “What gives? I thought you weren’t interested in that fast talking Casanova?”

“I’m not,” Sydney lied and pulled her arm free.

“Do I look like I was born yesterday? Do I need to remind you of how many women—friends of mine—he’s blown off after he-?”

“No.” Sydney moaned and pinched the bridge of her nose as if the act would stop reason and caution from flowing back into her brain. So what if he’s had a lot of women? So what if he’d left a trail of broken hearts across the country? She wasn’t like other women. She knew how to be careful and protect herself. Hell, she’d done it all her life.

“I’m just...having some fun.” She dropped her hands and shrugged. “Isn’t that what you said I should do? There’s no crime in that and I’m a big girl.”

Niecy rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I can’t tell you how many times I heard that, too.”

Sydney felt her own annoyance mount. “What’s the
real
deal with you?” she asked, crossing her arms. “What’s with the personal interest? Are you pissed that Jett is interested in me or the fact that he has
never
been interested in you?”

When Niecy jerked back with wide, angry eyes, Sydney had her answer.

“Fine,” Niecy hissed. “You’re on your own. When you’re left crying in your pillow, remember this moment.”

Sydney didn’t get a chance to rebut the declaration before her friend—probably now her ex-friend—turned and disappeared into a sea of partygoers.

“Can’t say that I’m sorry to see her gone,” Jett deadpanned when he reclaimed his position next to Sydney. “Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” He slid his hand back around her waist.

Sydney stepped out of his grasp in order to maintain a clear head. “Don’t. I’m not having fun anymore.”

He ignored her aversion and cornered his prey. “That’s because we still have our clothes on. What do you say we get a suite and see how fast I can sink my battleship?”

Sydney’s face twisted in horror. “I keep forgetting how cheesy your pick up lines are.”

“Maybe,” he whispered and stole a quick kiss just below her earlobe, and then leveled his golden gaze on her. “But I’m incredibly cute.”

“That settles it.” She ignored the electricity of his touch and pushed him away. “I’m heading back to the base.” She took one step, but Jett quickly drew her back.

“All right. Since getting butt-naked is out of the question...Captain. How do
you
propose we spend our first weekend in Sin city?”

“I should have known you couldn’t stop pretending to be a man long enough to have a good time. Maybe it was the dress that fooled me.”

Sydney whipped around. “What did you say?”

Jett ignored her outrage and signaled a waitress. “Whiskey straight up.”

Sydney crowded his personal space and took a page out of Niecy’s book to jab a finger in the center of his chest. “I asked you a question.”

Jett’s eyes glowed like molten gold. “You heard me. What’s the matter—daddy not love you enough?”

The slap stung and surprised them both.

“My father was more of a man than you’ll ever be—you self righteous son-of-a bitch! If your pride is so easily bruised because you’re a lousy pilot then maybe you should look into another career. One where lives aren’t depended on you doing your job.”

Jett’s anger boiled and what he longed to do more than anything was to wrap his hands around her beautiful neck. But at the end of her holier than thou speech his heart quickened at the sudden gloss of tears in her eyes.

She bolted from him and this time he wasn’t quick enough to stop her.

“Your whiskey, sir.” The waitress returned with a bright smile.

He grabbed the drink and tossed some bills onto the tray before he drained the glass in one quick gulp. The liquor’s burn gave him the jolt he needed before diving into the pulsing crowd. The experience felt more like looking for a needle in a haystack.

The minutes stretched and his alcoholic buzz vanished while he combated a rising wave of panic. What on earth possessed him to say that to her? Why was he so hell bent on conquering her iron will?

Truth be told, he wanted more than to conquer—he wanted to dominate. Every night in the past week he did nothing more than dream of how he was going to accomplish his goal—and every morning,
she
out flew, out maneuvered- out everything while simultaneously reducing his ego to the size of a peanut.

Jett stopped his search in the middle of the dance floor. What was the point? What could he possibly say about his thoughtless remarks?

A few women swiveled and eased up on him, but he wasn’t in the mood to dance or party any more. He scanned the club again. This time he looked for Weasel. When this proved impossible too, he headed for the door.

During the long arduous trek out of the club, Jett obsessed over his harsh words to Sydney. He was the last one who could talk about someone’s father; given the fact his couldn’t stand his guts.

“
My father was more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

Was. Jett cursed under his breath and blocked out the flash of pain he’d witnessed in her eyes. He really did need to learn to think before he spoke.

Finally, he exited the club and drew in a deep breath. However, the hardest thing to do in Las Vegas is find solitude. From the party crowd to the gambler’s den, Jett searched for a place where he could be alone with his thoughts.

“You look like someone has kicked your puppy.”

Jett glanced up, momentarily surprised to find his feet had led him to a bar in the center of the casino. That surprise was eclipsed when he recognized Niecy nursing a drink and plopping quarters into a counter video poker machine.

Jett expelled a breath and planted his elbows on the bar. “Well, she no longer with me.” He signaled the bartender and ordered, “Whiskey straight up.”

“What makes you think
I
did something?”

Jett grunted. Though he was in no mood for Niecy’s baiting, he couldn’t bring him to leave her company. He mulled that over for a moment. It certainly had to be more evidence of his plummeting sanity.

“Well, she’s different. I’ll give her that.” Niecy said, chucking more money into the machine. “Especially if she’s showing signs of immunity to your...charm.”

“Bartender, I’ll have another,” Jett called out.

“You got it,” said the young man who held a startling resemblance to Tobey McGuire.

“All right stop it.” Niecy abandoned her game and turned her full attention to Jett. “You keep sulking and I’m actually going to start feeling sorry for you.”

“Keep your pity.” He straightened in his chair when his drink arrived. His callous words to Sydney looped in head while his father’s bloated face surfaced in his mind.

Worthless bastard. You’re never going to amount to anything.

Jett closed his eyes, hating how his father’s words always successfully reduced him to feeling like a vulnerable six-year old. He spent most his life trying to prove his father wrong, trying to win his love.

Just like he loved his older son, Xavier.

Xavier never had to deal with their father’s physical or verbal abuse. Good old dad reserved all that just for little James. However, both heard his constant proclamation about their mother being a whore. That word was source of confusion until Jett turned ten and the realization that he didn’t look like anyone in the family. Eyes the color of wheat had a way of sticking out among a family tree of black onyx and while both side of the family showcase skin the color of dark chocolate, one had to wonder how Jett inherited his light coloring.

Plain and simple, Gerald Colton had no room in his heart to love a son that wasn’t his.

Love.
He chuckled under his breath. What did he know about the elusive emotion? Hell, it was just a word as far as he was concerned. Heaven knows he’d searched for it in buxom breasts, hourglass curves, and soft, plump lips. However, no woman has ever elicited an emotion that lasted outside of the bedroom.

“So much for love,” he mumbled.

Niecy frowned. “You love her?” she asked misunderstanding him.

“No.” Jett laughed. “I’m just intrigued by her.”
And her passionate love for a deceased father.
He finally stood up and tossed money onto the counter. “Last time I checked that wasn’t a crime.”

“Hey, Jett. There you are.” Weasel hooked his arm around Jett’s neck as he approached from behind. “Man, I found us a couple of honeys that don’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’, if you catch my drift.” He barked out a laugh.

“As you wish, Captain.” He spun back toward Jett and nearly lost his balance in the process. “So what do you say, Jett. Care to join us—or are you still trying to win that pool. I saw you with-”

Niecy watched the circus act of Weasel, Jett, and two scantily clad women melt back into the casino crowd. “Those two are up to something.”

Hostile territory...

Chapter 13

Tuesday July 4, 2006 1600 hours Osan Air Base

The 21
^st
Special Operation Squadron—the newly re-established Black Knights were locked and loaded for their search and rescue mission. Jett included. Despite not having a formal introduction to his new C.O., he had no problem, getting on active duty, seeing how the base grabbed every able body they could find.

Osan was no longer operating in the dark. All systems were up and running—though no concrete explanation had been found as to what caused the four hour black out. This was an unacceptable answer with the Brigadier General all the way up to the President of the United States.

North Korea Chief of state Kim Jong-Il filled the airwaves with threats of launching a nuclear attack in response to their country’s energy crisis. All talks with South Korea, Japan, and the United States were cut off.

While the world held their breaths during the pending catastrophe, Jett’s heart and soul obsessed over one thing—one person.

She’s not dead. She can’t be dead. I would feel it, wouldn’t I?

He wasn’t sure anymore. Time played cruel tricks. In the three years since Sydney had walked out of his life, why hadn’t he gone after her? Lord knows he wanted, needed, and longed for her. Hell, he still remembered vividly the taste and feel of her as if she’d placed a curse on him.