Tilting her face up to his, Kathleen squeezed his hand. "Yeah, I think I am."
The surprised lift of his brows pinched her with guilt, but she would make it up to him.
"Where do you want to go?" he asked.
Anywhere too private and they wouldn't talk. Sex would offer a too convenient distraction, an easy out she wouldn't take this time. "Let's just walk. See where our feet lead us."
"Fair enough."
Side by side they left the club. Stars and streetlights dappled bricked walkways. The temperate southern winter night carried a light chill, but not enough to pierce their uniform jackets.
Silently they strolled, keeping pace with each other until they came to the flight line. Kathleen wasn't sure who'd lead whom, but there they were, right back where they'd started almost three weeks ago. Standing on a windswept flight line.
An SP cruised by, checked them out, then continued down the flight line.
Kathleen let her hand drift up to finger one of Tanner's medals. "Thank you for what you did back there. That was really…"
She searched for the right word.
Tanner winced. "Sweet?"
"Special." She dropped the aerial achievement medal back in place, smoothed the rows of other medals flat against the broad chest that carried such a big heart.
"I'm glad it made you happy. You deserved it." He eyed her with uncertainty, as if gauging her next move.
And he had good reason, given her track record.
She'd blamed so much of her fear of relationships on her ex. After all, he'd been the one to cheat on her, the one to walk. But hadn't she been running all her life, closing herself off from real emotions rather than risk failing? She'd been attracted to Tanner all those years ago, no doubt had a colossal crush on him.
Then he'd become a real man to her the night his sister had died. Once she'd been forced to see him as more than a sports jock, a safe crush that would never play out, she'd run like crazy from the possibility of facing emotions more substantial than infatuation.
She'd been playing out the same scenario even twelve years later. Forced to see Tanner as more than some jet jock, she had to face her powerful feelings for the man. The real man.
No more hiding, she asked, "Where do we go from here?"
Tanner's chest expanded beneath her hand, then lowered with a hefty exhale. "You told me once you want a man who talks, a man who says what he's thinking, because you're not one for guessing games. So I'm going to lay it all out here for you. I love you, Kathleen O'Connell. Doc. Athena. Cadet or Captain. I love every gorgeous, infuriating, exciting inch of you. I love the way you challenge me. I love the way you make me be a better man when I'm with you. And I want the honor of loving every inch of you for the rest of my life."
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his powerful band so gentle against her bandage that her eyes stung. "That's where I stand. Help me out here, Kathleen. I need to hear what you're thinking, too."
"I'm thinking I want to say all the same things to you." She pressed both hands to his solid chest to keep him from lunging forward, and to steal a little comfort and reassurance from the solid wall of muscle and man beneath her hands. "I want to jump in with both feet and say to hell with being careful. But, God, Tanner, I'm so damned scared of messing up again."
"Honey, you go right ahead and jump. I'll spot you every day for the rest of our lives. And I trust you'll do the same for me."
The intensity in those blue eyes swayed her, but she knew she wanted to be convinced. Stepping outside a lifelong comfort zone wasn't so easily accomplished. She had one last ghost to banish. "What about kids?"
"What do you mean?"
"If I … try this and I blow it again, what about our children? If you want them."
Without hesitation he answered, "Yes, I want them. With you." His brows pulled together. "And you? What do you want?"
God love him for asking. No one else ever had. She'd always had to fight for what she wanted from life, and she'd fought alone. Not any longer. Andrew had made her fear she was too reserved, too much of a loner to be a good mother. But she knew that wasn't the truth—probably not then and definitely not now.
With faith that this man would accept and nurture all her dreams as his own, Kathleen shared her heartfelt wish. "Yes, I want them." Certainty flowed through her. "With you."
Tanner's eyes closed, his head falling to rest against hers. His throat moved with a long swallow before he looked down at her.
That sense of déjà vu hit her again. Thoughts of standing on the airfield in Germany flashed through her mind, brash Tanner staggering off the airplane, fighting through the pain. Bravado had glossed over his hurt and a fear that he would lose something important. She saw that same flicker of fear in his eyes now, a fear slowly easing away.
He'd been afraid of losing her.
He really loved her.
Then he smiled, a full-dimpled smile. He threw his head back and laughed, hefted her up and spun her around twice before cruising her to a safe landing on the runway. "You won't be sorry, Kathleen. There's nothing you can't do once you set your mind to it, and now that you've set your mind on us, hon, we're a sure thing. With the combined forces of our not-so-subtle wills, we'll make this work."
The man certainly did have a way with words, and she'd always loved a man who could talk. She'd always loved this man. "Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I love you. Yes, I'll many you. And yes, I'll populate the Air Force with our little warrior gods and goddesses."
"That's my Athena. A woman of few words, but when she talks, she says all the right things."
"Kiss me." Kathleen arched up on her toes as he leaned down, their lips meeting. She let her mouth soften under his, cling, just a leisurely sort of kiss, the kind given with ease as if it were her right. And it was.
Finally, after twelve years of longing, she could just kiss, enjoy, savor the feel of Tanner's mouth against hers, confident in the knowledge that she could return for more anytime, anywhere for the rest of her life.
Kathleen ended the kiss with a final nip. Her hands hooked around his neck, her head on his chest as she eyed the airplane just across the tarmac. Deliciously wicked intent fired inside her.
She stepped out of his embrace and patted along her jacket, then her skirt until Tanner finally asked, "What are you doing?"
"This uniform doesn't have enough pockets. I seem to have forgotten my UCMJ manual."
"And that's a problem because…?"
"I can't look up whether it's against regs for us to climb into that plane over there so you can jump me."
A slow smile kicked that dimple into his face again, a grin guaranteed to flutter her heart for at least another fifty years. "The way I understand that reg, Captain O'Connell, we're in the clear, since we're just taking cover from an imminent rainstorm."
Kathleen stared up into the cloudless night sky, but didn't bother contradicting him. After all, rain was always imminent in Charleston. Tanner had taught her she could bend the rules on occasion without compromising her principles. "Come on, hotshot. I'll race you to the airplane. Winner gets to jump the loser."
Tanner clasped her hand in his. "Athena, the way I read that one, it's a team effort where we're both going to come out winners."
Epilogue
Tanner slung his helmet bag on the counter and opened the refrigerator. Light sliced through the darkened kitchen, adding just enough illumination for him to find a postflight snack. No need to turn on the overhead and risk waking Kathleen.
Sleep was a precious commodity with a newborn in the house.
Rummaging through the shelves, he opted for a soda before bumping the door shut with his hip. Leftover adrenaline had him too pumped for sleep just yet. Even on a routine training mission, he still enjoyed every damn minute in that left seat. Thanks to the tender—and diligent—care of his resident flight surgeon, Tanner's back problems were a thing of the past.
As were any ghosts. Kathleen had laid those to rest for him, as well. He liked to think he'd done the same for her. The birth of their daughter a few weeks ago had solidified an already strong marriage.
Yeah, they made a top-notch team.
Resting a hip against the counter by the nursery monitor, Tanner chugged back his drink and listened for sounds of his daughter breathing. A never-ending thrill.
Low static crackled from the receiver, then the slow creak of a rocking chair eased over the airwaves, followed by Kathleen's voice. "Hey, sweet baby, still not sleepy, huh? That's okay. There's nothing I'd rather do right now than hang out with you."
Her whiskey-warm tones dive-bombed his senses with just as much power as they had thirteen years ago—a predictable, yet undeniably exciting rush, even after a year of marriage. The date marked a year exactly. As well as exactly six weeks after their daughter's birth. Definite cause for celebration.
Anticipation charged through him full throttle.
Tanner pitched his can into the recycling bin, eager to see Kathleen and the baby, but unable to resist eavesdropping just a little while longer.
"We're both gonna nap tomorrow with your daddy, since he has the day off. Deal? Deal." The steady creak of the rocking chair echoed its soothing song. "For now it's just us girls, Tara, baby. So let's talk. There're so many things to dream about, your first words, first day at school, first date."
He quirked a brow at the monitor. Nuns don't date.
"The world's wide open, my girl," Kathleen crooned. "You can be whatever you want. Doctor or circus clown. Your call. Of course, your daddy may have heart failure if you opt for the high-wire acrobat stint. But I have it on good authority he's a mighty fine spotter."
Smiling, Tanner scooped up the nursery monitor and clicked the two-way button to join in the late-night chat with his family.
Holding the monitor up to his mouth, he donned his best in-flight radio voice as he left the kitchen. "This is COHO two zero requesting a flight surgeon to meet me at the parking area. Do you read me, Athena? Over."
A husky chuckle sounded before she answered. "Affirmative, COHO, but I'm currently engaged in refueling operations with our little copilot. Request you reroute and meet me in the nursery."
"Roger that, Athena." Tanner rounded the corner, making tracks for the slim band of light peeking from the baby's room. "Changing course to join formation."
He closed the last ten steps in seconds, nudging the door with his toe. The open door framed Kathleen sitting in a white rocker. Her red hair fluffed, sleep-ruffled around her face, her green satin nightshirt unbuttoned. A tiny pink fist rested against the curve of her breast as Kathleen nursed their daughter. Contentment shone from her, warming the room, warming him.
How could she have ever doubted herself? Kathleen had tackled motherhood with all the study and perfection she did everything else. Those maternal instincts had kicked in the minute the stick turned blue. The woman was unconquerable.
Tara was one lucky little girl. And he was one lucky husband. "Happy Anniversary."
"It certainly is." Kathleen smiled, as at home in a nursery as she was on a flight line or in the operating room. No stereotyping for her daughter, Kathleen had insisted on pale-blue walls with puffy clouds. Tiny angels wearing pink ribbons grinned from those clouds, one looking remarkably like his sister.
An answering grin tugged at his face. Tanner pushed away from the door and crossed to Kathleen. Leaning, he dropped a kiss on Kathleen's mouth, then on Tara's tufts of red hair. "Hey, princess."
Tara turned to the sound of his voice. What an incredible rush, that sweet recognition. Better than outrunning a MIG fighter jet. He loved the way she knew him. He loved her. And her mama.
