Night Call

Tristan was out there. Jett couldn’t even let the possibility that Tristan wasn’t coming home into her mind. When her thoughts veered in that direction, a loud noise filled her head, like a klaxon roaring, and her stomach threatened to empty what little she’d eaten in the last day.

She held on to the chair as hard as she could because she knew her hands were shaking, and she didn’t want anyone else to see. Tristan couldn’t be hurt. Because if she was, Jett simply didn’t know what she would do.

“Wait,” Linda shouted, pointing at the radio. “There. There. Those are Cindy’s call signs, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Mike said. “Thank God. She’s okay. She’s coming in!”

Jett turned and ran for the stairs. She reached the roof just as the helicopter landed and she didn’t slow until she’d reached the aircraft.

She grabbed the handle on the side door and yanked it back. A medic she didn’t recognize blocked her view and she was forced to step back as a stretcher was handed off bearing a dark-haired woman with a cervical collar immobilizing her head and severe burns to her face and both arms. For a second, Jett thought it was Tristan and her knees wobbled.

She caught herself against the side of the aircraft and fought back another urge to vomit. A second medic jumped out, this one a nurse she knew. The rotors slowed and Cindy climbed down from the cockpit.

They were still one aircraft short, and Tristan was still missing.

An enormous chasm opened on the horizon of Jett’s heart, threatening to swallow her alive. She closed her eyes.

Tristan jumped out after Cindy. Once she’d secured the patient’s airway, she’d squeezed into the space next to the pilot to give the medics in the back of the aircraft room to work. Cindy was already at the stairs on the far side of the roof. They’d all seen the fireball erupt in the sky not far from them. But none of them knew who it was.

All the way back, all Tristan could think of was Jett. Jett had said she had another run to make. She should be back already, right? Safe. The fifteen-minute flight had been the longest of Tristan’s life. She took two quick steps forward, then abruptly stopped and turned back.

“Babe? Babe!” Tristan grabbed Jett by the shoulders and wrapped her tightly in her arms. “Jesus Christ. I was so scared. You’re all right, right? Jett?” She held Jett at arm’s length. Jett looked shell-shocked, her eyes completely blank. “You are all right, aren’t you?”

Jett shuddered and her eyes snapped into focus. She grasped Tristan’s head and kissed her fiercely. Then she pushed away.

“Yeah,” Jett croaked, her voice sounding rusty and unused. “I’m okay.”

Tristan stared as Jett abruptly turned and strode off, her gait slightly unsteady. What the hell?

“Jett,” Tristan shouted, running after her.

Jett held up a hand, not looking back. “I need some space. You should probably get some sleep.” She pushed through the stairwell doors and disappeared in a clatter of boots on stone.

Tristan hesitated for a second, then shouldered through the door.

“Fuck this.”

Chapter Twenty-four

Tristan caught up to Jett just as she was opening her on-call room door. Tristan didn’t bother to say anything since she didn’t think she’d be getting an invite. She just pushed inside behind

Jett, slammed the door behind her, and locked it.

Jett spun around in the middle of the small, narrow room. “What are you doing?”

“Never mind what I’m doing. What are you doing?” Tristan edged between Jett and the dresser to lock the second door that she presumed led to the lounge. “What the hell was that all about up on the roof?”

“What?” Jett shoved her hands into the front pockets of her plain black pants and leaned against the wall next to her bed, as far away from Tristan as possible, which was only a few feet. Even though she didn’t want to have this conversation, not here, and not like this, she was so glad to see Tristan, she almost didn’t care. When she’d finally registered up on the flight deck that Tristan was there in front of her, unhurt, that Tris had come back, she’d just reacted. She’d kissed Tristan because she was so relieved and because she needed the physical contact to be absolutely certain Tris was safe. Then the enormity of just how much she had needed Tristan to come back had hit her with the force of a machine gun salvo. The memory of that crippling need had sent her running, and she still needed time to regain her balance. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“Fuck forget it.” Tristan stalked over to Jett and gripped her shoulders. “First I find you totally out of it, then you kiss me like you want to swallow me whole, then you tell me you need space and walk away. What the hell, Jett.”

Jett shrugged as much as she could with Tristan pinning her to the wall. Tristan was leaning against her, and with Tristan this close, with Tristan’s hands on her, Jett couldn’t keep from getting excited. She didn’t need that now. She feigned nonchalance. “Reflex. Sorry.”

“Bullshit,” Tristan snapped. “You think I care that you kissed me? You think I didn’t want that?” She kissed Jett roughly, driving her tongue into her mouth, bruising her own lips against Jett’s teeth. “What were you thinking about? What were you doing up there?”

Jett paled. “Nothing.”

“You’re lying.” Tristan’s eyes softened. “Don’t do that, babe.”

“We heard there was a helicopter crash,” Jett said quietly. “I wanted to check on the status of our choppers.”

“Is everyone okay?” Tristan was determined to get all the answers she wanted, but she was worried about the others too.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if Jeremy has checked in yet.”

“We’ll find out in a minute. You didn’t answer me. Why did you kiss me?”

“Look,” Jett said in a reasonable tone. “Everybody’s strung out. Tense. I was worried, I was glad to see you. So I kissed you, okay? Let’s not make it more than it is.”

“Why not?” Tristan slid her hands from Jett’s shoulders down her chest until she cupped Jett’s breasts through the thin black T-shirt. She felt Jett’s nipples harden beneath her fingers. She watched Jett’s eyes as she played with the small tight tips, rolling and squeezing and flicking. Jett’s eyes lost focus, but they weren’t the blank void she’d seen on the landing pad, they were soft and liquid with desire. “Oh yeah. You like that, don’t you.”

“You already knew that.” Jett gasped and clutched Tristan’s hips, her head falling back against the wall.

“Why were you worried?” Tristan murmured, her mouth against Jett’s ear. She spread her fingers over Jett’s breasts, nearly covering them with her hands, and squeezed. Jett’s hips bucked and Tristan’s vision narrowed until all she could see was Jett’s face. “Why?”

“The choppers…the crash.” Jett groaned when Tristan caught her earlobe in her teeth. “I was afraid. Afraid you might be hurt.”

“You don’t have to be afraid. I’m right here.” Tristan yanked Jett’s T-shirt from her pants and drove both hands underneath, skimming hot skin and finding soft breasts. She fondled her breasts, teased her nipples, and kissed her way down Jett’s neck. Then she replaced her fingers with her mouth, and bit down on a hard nipple.

Jett arched her back, her head rolling convulsively from side to side. “Tristan.”

“It’s all right, babe.” Tristan rested her cheek against Jett’s breast and reached down to open her pants. “I know what you need.”

Jett jerked as if she’d been shot and grabbed Tristan’s wrist, twisting it into a defensive wrist lock. “No.”

Tristan cried out more in surprise than pain, and Jett immediately loosened her grip.

“I’m sorry,” Jett gasped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. But you have to stop. We have to stop.”

“For now.”

Jett shook her head. “No. We have to stop this thing between us.”

Tristan braced her arms on either side of Jett’s body. She knew Jett wanted her. It was written in her eyes, on her face, in the way her body responded. She loved the way Jett responded to her. She loved the way Jett made her feel, what Jett unleashed in her. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more than Jett’s desire, she wanted her heart, and her wanting made her desperate and foolishly brave. “Why?” She kissed Jett. “Why do we have to stop?”

Jett looked at Tristan and saw Gail. She blinked and forced the image away, but she couldn’t force away the pain.

“Oh my God, what are you doing,” Gail moaned, shoving Jett back with both hands against her shoulders.

Jett was so lost in the sweet taste of Gail’s skin and the softness of her body, she couldn’t decipher the words. Had Gail said no? Jesus, she must have said no, but Jett hadn’t heard. She hadn’t stopped. Jett stared in confusion, trying to make sense of what Gail was saying. She couldn’t think, she could barely breathe. Gail’s blouse was open. A button was missing and her breast was outside her bra, as if a hand had lifted it free. Had she done that? Gail’s nipple was dark purple in the muted light, rigid and erect, and Jett had a faint memory of kneading it against her palm. Or had that been another woman? Another night?

“Gail, I…I…” Jett shook her head but she still couldn’t think. Gail had kissed her, hadn’t she? Or had she kissed Gail? I know what you need. Gail’s hands on her back, on her ass. I know what you need. Jett’s clitoris throbbed. Gail had gripped her crotch while they were kissing, hadn’t she? Or had she imagined that too? Was that just a memory from all the nights she’d made herself come thinking about Gail caressing her? I know what you need. Jett lifted her hand to touch Gail’s cheek.

“Stop it.” Gail pulled her head away. “I don’t want you to touch me. I’m not a lesbian.”

“You kissed me,” Jett said numbly. Hadn’t she?

“No, Chief McNally. I did not.” Gail skirted out from between Jett and the shower wall, rearranging her clothing with trembling hands. “You’re mistaken. I think it best if we just forget this.”

Jett grabbed her before she could walk away. “I can’t forget this. Gail, I love you.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Why? We can be careful.”

“You don’t understand. I’m not a lesbian.” Gail wrenched her arm free.

Jett followed her. “Is it something I did? I scared you, didn’t I? I’m sorry.” Jett reached for Gail’s arm again, then hesitated. “I just needed to touch you so much. I’ll be more careful. I’d never hurt you.”

Gail spun around. “Listen to me. I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t want you that way at all. If anything like this ever occurs again, I’ll be forced to report you.”

“I’m sorry,” Jett whispered, but Gail was gone.

Nothing that had ever happened to her had been as bad as watching Gail walk out of her life—not her father’s beatings, not her brothers’ tauntings, not the loneliness and isolation of so many years alone.

She’d learned not to care about anything except flying. But she’d let Gail into her heart, and now she’d driven Gail away. When Jett’s knees gave way and she fell to the slick wet floor, her eyes were dry. Only her soul cried.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Tristan demanded harshly. “It’s because she’s back.”

“No,” Jett said quickly, because that wasn’t the reason. Gail’s unexpected appearance had brought all the uncertainty and pain Jett had so carefully buried right to the surface, like an abscess being lanced. She’d lost Gail because she’d wanted her too much, and she was terrified of wanting Tristan.

“You’re lying again. God damn it, don’t lie to me.” Tristan clenched her fists until the tendons stood out on her hands and her joints ached.

She wanted to punch a hole in the wall. She’d never punched anything, and always thought it was a stupid reaction, but right now, she wanted to destroy something. She wanted to make some other part of her body hurt besides her heart. “You still love her. I get it.”

“I don’t…it’s not…”

“Never mind.” Tristan took a step back and looked wildly around the room—at the perfectly square stack of clothing on the top shelf of the open closet, at the precisely ordered pile of books on the floor by the night table, at the narrow bed where Jett slept. She knew she’d be imagining herself in that bed, with Jett beneath her, with Jett between her legs, with Jett inside her, for months. Jesus Christ. She was losing her mind. She knew about wanting someone so badly it ate you up inside. She knew now, when it was the wrong woman, and too fucking late to do anything about it. “You still want to fuck her, and it’s eating at you, isn’t it?”

“No. Yes. God, I don’t know,” Jett blurted. “I keep thinking about her. Gail. I keep remembering.”

“Ah, babe,” Tristan whispered. She brushed her fingers through Jett’s hair. “She came looking for you. She must want you.” She laughed, although inside it felt like tears. “She’d be crazy not to.”

“I don’t know why she’s here.” Jett dropped onto the narrow bed and put her head in her hands. While she’d been flying, ferrying the injured back and forth to the hospital, she’d been able to block out thoughts of Gail and why she had come. Now the past had come roaring back, and she was terrified. Terrified of feeling again what she had felt that night. Gail had been kind to her, Gail had been tender.

Gail had touched her. But when she’d touched Gail back, she’d needed something, wanted something, done something to make Gail run from her. And now all she knew was that she wanted Tristan in ways she had never even begun to want Gail. She couldn’t do it again. “I don’t know anything.”

Tristan knelt in front of her and rested one hand lightly on Jett’s thigh, the other on the back of her neck. “You have to find out, babe. Cause she’s still got hold of your heart.”

Tristan kissed the top of Jett’s head, straightened, and went to the hall door. She unlocked it, stepped out, and closed the door quietly behind her.

Jett listened for Tristan’s footsteps, but she couldn’t hear her. She was just gone.

“You’re wrong,” Jett whispered to the empty room. “She doesn’t have my heart.”

Tristan took the stairwell down five flights on the run. She barreled through the door onto the OR floor, punched in her code to the surgical locker room, and stripped down. She pulled on clean scrubs, grabbed a mask and a cap, and walked directly into hell. The OR looked like a MASH unit. Stretchers littered the halls, the floor was covered with discarded tubing, plastic wrappers from IV bags, and half-used rolls of tape. She started down one side of the U-shaped complex, checking rooms until she found one of the senior anesthesia staff.

“I can relieve someone,” Tristan said.

“Uh, I think Christopher in room eight…no, nine…is probably due for a dinner break. Six hours ago. You okay? Where did you come from?”

“I went with the first responders. I’m fine.”

“Go ahead, then. Tell Christopher to grab a couple hours’ sleep after he eats.”

“Sure.” Tristan headed off. She needed to take her mind off Jett.

She needed not to think about the brunette. Gail. A beautiful woman. A beautiful woman who had come halfway around the world for Jett. She stopped suddenly, the pain nearly blinding her.

“It’ll pass,” she whispered to herself. She’d let her guard down, let things go too far. She’d made a mistake. She’d get over it. She’d work, and while she was working she wouldn’t be able to think of anything else. She was too conditioned to give all her attention to the patient to let her mind wander. And when she was done working, she’d make a few phone calls. She’d get over it.

Jett waited until some of the familiar numbness returned, blunting the pain, and then she went into the flight lounge. It didn’t matter how much she hurt, she still had crew members somewhere out in the field.

And she didn’t leave her crew behind.

“Any word from Jeremy?” Jett asked.

“He just radioed,” Linda said, her eyes bright with tears. “They’re grounded in Atlantic City. Jeremy thinks something’s wrong with the hydraulics.”

“All accounted for, then,” Jett said.

Quinn Maguire came through the door. “All our people okay?”

“Yes,” Linda said. “Everyone is fine.”

Jett pivoted and started for her room. “Log me back in at oh-two hundred.”

“Are you sure?” Linda called after her. “You had a really long shift today.”

“I’m fine. I’ll be ready.” Jett closed her door and stretched out on top of her perfectly made bed, fully clothed, her arms straight down at her sides. She stared at the ceiling, dry-eyed, and waited for sleep.

The lights were out in Honor’s office when Quinn returned. She opened the door and stepped carefully inside. The glow from the x-ray light box behind Honor’s desk provided faint illumination, and she made her way to the side of the couch and knelt down.

“Honor,” she said quietly.

“Mmm?”

Quinn stroked her hair. “Time to go home.”

Honor turned on her side and rested her head on her folded arms. She regarded Quinn for a long moment. “I love you, do you know that?”

“I do.” Quinn kissed her. “I love you.”

“I know. You gave me back my life, Quinn. All of my life.”

Quinn kissed her again. “You gave me a life.”

“I guess I should go home and take care of the rest of our life, huh?” Honor sat up.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can to give you a hand with that,” Quinn said.

“We’ll be waiting.” Honor trailed her fingers down Quinn’s cheek.

“What a night.”

Chapter Twenty-five

Jett sat on the wide stone wall ringing the rooftop, her back to the city, her gaze on the empty helipad, listening for the sound of the chopper returning as if waiting for a lover. A faint breeze played through the hair at the back of her neck, drying the sweat that misted her skin. She’d flown most of the last twenty-six hours, slept when she had to, and now she was done until the following night. Three hours to sundown, another eight until sunrise, another fourteen until her next shift. Twenty-five hours to fill. She felt as empty inside as the hours that stretched before her.

She had not seen or heard from Tristan since they’d parted in the middle of the night. She hadn’t expected to. Tristan thought she wanted Gail. Maybe Tristan was right. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Gail, dreaming about her, in all the time since she’d left the service. Not until she’d met Tristan. Smiling, Jett fingered the seam on the inside leg of her jeans, running her fingertips slowly along the ridge. Tristan had shouldered her way into her life, refusing to be ignored. Tristan…

Movement on the far side of the roof caught her attention and she straightened, squinting in the glare off the concrete, hoping to see the familiar figure come jogging toward her. Disappointment, sharp and raw, cut through her when she recognized Linda.

“I thought you might be up here,” Linda said, shading her eyes with one hand against the slanting rays of the sun.

“I thought you left a while ago.”

“I’ve been checking on friends. I stopped by the ER and the OR. Things are slowing down a lot and the relief crews are cleaning up the rest.”

Jett didn’t ask if she’d seen Tristan. Tristan wasn’t coming back. Why would she? She thought—

“So listen,” Linda said, resting her hand on Jett’s knee. “No one really wants to go home. I guess after what happened…after everything…people just want to stay together for a while.”

“I know.”

Linda studied her. “I guess you do. So, my long-suffering partner, God bless her, is throwing together some food and a couple of people are picking up beer. Everybody’s heading over to my place.”

“You came up here to tell me that?”

Linda nodded. “Yes. I did.”

Jett studied her hands, which she’d clasped between her legs.

Linda’s hand still rested on her knee. Linda touched her a lot, and Jett liked her. But Linda’s touch wasn’t like Gail’s, and nothing like Tristan’s. Nothing was like Tristan’s hands on her. “Thank you.”

“Are you okay?”

“No,” Jett said. “Not really.”

“Is there something I can do?”

Jett shook her head. “Thanks, but I think I have to figure this out for myself.”

“Is it about Tristan?”

Jett tensed. “Why?”

“People can be jerks sometimes when they’re jealous. Don’t hold it against her.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Linda colored. “Oh, I thought…she was asking about your visitor earlier. She seemed pretty bent out of shape about it.”

“Gail?”

“Is that her name? The soldier who was here?”

“Yes.”

“I think Tristan thought she was your girlfriend. I’m just assuming…”

“She isn’t.”

“Ex?”

Jett thought about that. What was Gail to her? They’d been friends, she’d thought. She’d thought they’d been more than that—she’d thought what they’d had was special. She laughed, thinking of Tristan and her special friends.

“No,” Jett said. “Just a friend.”

“So are you going to come?”

Jett was going to say no, and then she thought about the twenty-five hours she needed to fill. There would be others at Linda’s like herself, others who had had a bad night, who didn’t want to go home with the memories—unable to explain to those who loved them what they’d seen and what they wanted to forget. She wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. She could sit, drink, let the time go by. She could try not to think about Tristan, but that would be harder. But wherever she was, she was going to think about Tristan, and with luck, she could find some kind of diversion at Linda’s. “I might be late. I need to make a stop first.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be going a long time tonight. We’ve got a couple of spare rooms and a lot of floor space, and we like overnight visitors. Come around when you’re ready.”

“Thanks.”

Linda patted Jett’s thigh. “I really hope you make it. See you later.”

“Right,” Jett said softly.

Linda disappeared and Jett was alone again. She thought about Tristan being jealous, and then of Tristan kneeling beside her in her on-call room, telling her to talk to Gail, telling her that Gail still held a piece of her heart. Maybe Tristan was right. Maybe that’s why Gail haunted her dreams and her waking moments. Jett didn’t know what she felt. She hadn’t really been able to think about Gail until now. About what had happened. About what she’d done to make Gail leave.

Jett slid down off the wall and sat on the rooftop, her legs outstretched. Tristan was gone, and she had let her go because of Gail.

She’d left the service because of Gail, and now she was running away from Tristan. Running away because of Gail and because of all the things she wanted and shouldn’t. She closed her eyes and made herself think about Gail because she couldn’t think about Tristan being gone.

She’d thought she’d loved Gail. She’d never had a woman in her life like Gail before, a woman who was constantly there for her—waiting for her to come back from a mission, taking care of her when she was tired and hurt, soothing her with her words and her touches. Her touches. Looking back, Jett replayed dozens of moments when Gail had touched her—casual caresses on her shoulders and arms, fingers running through her hair, breasts pressing against her back while standing in line for chow. Gail was always touching her. At the time,

Jett had been so beaten down by the constant stress, the unrelenting uncertainty, the ever-present threat of death, she hadn’t been able to see what was happening. She thought she had been the one who’d wanted too much, who’d asked for too much. But Gail had touched her.

Jett pushed herself up and strode across the tarmac to the stairwell.

Gail had kissed her. Gail had wanted her. Now she needed to see Gail.

Quinn knelt down next to Honor’s lounge chair. “I don’t think you should be doing that out in public. You’re likely to get a few people hot and bothered.”

“Who?” Honor laughed incredulously.

“Me, for starters.”

Honor looked down at her chest to make sure something hadn’t come undone that she hadn’t intended to be undone. All she saw was Jack’s fair hair and a small triangle of pale flesh. “Sweetheart, there’s nothing to see. You’re just imagining things.”

“That works pretty well for me too. The real thing’s better, though.”

“Will you be quiet,” Honor chided, nodding toward Jack. “He’ll hear you. If he takes after you, you will regret it when he’s thirteen.”

Quinn laughed and stroked Honor’s hair. “Baby, Arly takes after me. This one’s all yours.”

Honor grasped Quinn’s hand. “It’s true, you know. She wants to be just like you.” She rubbed Quinn’s fingers against her cheek. “And I can’t think of anyone better.”

“Well, from everything I hear, Terry was the real jock. So I think the credit has to be divided on that one.”

“Don’t make me cry.”

“I’m sorry,” Quinn whispered.

Honor shook her head. “No, sweetheart. Happy tears. These damn hormones are still not back to normal.”

“You sure?”

“Never more.” Jack started squirming and Honor handed him to Quinn. “Take him for a second while I get myself together. And no looking.”

“Tease,” Quinn muttered, settling Jack on her shoulder and patting his back.

“Patience, Maguire,” Honor said. “Remember when we get home how you’re going to be all restless and not able to sleep and I’m going to—”

“Let’s go now.”

Honor laughed and held out her arms for Jack. “Arly’s inside watching a movie with the other kids. When it’s over, we’ll go, okay?”

“All right. Can I get you anything?”

“No, but…” Honor pointed surreptitiously to a small group of people sitting on Linda’s back porch steps. “Maybe you should talk to Tristan. I’m not sure she’s doing real well.”

Quinn frowned and looked where Honor was pointing. Tristan leaned against the porch post. She was a little disheveled—her shirttail was hanging out of her jeans, which wasn’t like her—but she seemed okay otherwise. “What do you mean?”

“I noticed she’s drinking a lot, and that’s not usually her style. And she just looks…I don’t know, lost.”

“I’ll check on her on my way inside to collect our girl.”

“Don’t be long.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t be.”

Tristan carefully maneuvered her way through the throng of people congregated on the stairs and Linda’s porch. Inside the kitchen she sidled around more nurses and techs and doctors and other hospital personnel, everyone talking about what had happened. She found the scotch and poured another two inches into a small red plastic cup. The first half went down with a bit of a bite, the second was smooth and warm. She lifted the bottle but stopped in mid-pour when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Her heart leapt, and she spun around. Then she kept her smile in place through sheer force of will. Jett wasn’t here and she wasn’t coming. Fuck, no point thinking about where she was.

“Hey Quinn,” Tristan said heartily. “Rough one, huh?”

“Yeah, but we had some good saves too. That fireman you tubed is going to make it. That was good work.”

“Well, sometimes you get lucky.”

“That wasn’t luck.” Quinn put her arm around Tristan’s shoulder and said quietly, “You doing okay?”

“Peachy.”

“You look like shit. Why don’t you go home and go to bed.”

“I will, as soon as I find some company.”

“We’re all a little shaky—”

“Nope. Not me. I’m solid.”

“Uh-huh.” Quinn stared intently. “Is it work or something else? You don’t usually drink yourself under the table, and you’re about there.”

“I’m okay.” Tristan swayed and gripped the counter behind her. “I won’t drink any more. Word. Just tired.”

“Let me walk you home.”

Tristan shook her head. “You’ve got the family here. Not going far. I’ll make it.”

“I don’t think—” Quinn stopped as a truly gorgeous redhead came sailing up and about jumped on Tristan.

“Tristan, baby, I just got your message!” Darla slid up next to Tristan and smiled at Quinn. She looped her arm around Tristan’s waist and kissed her on the side of the mouth. “I would have been here sooner, but I was finishing an audit and didn’t check my voicemail until just a few minutes ago.”

“There you go.” Tristan grinned at Quinn. “I’ll be fine now.”

“Make sure she gets home all right, will you?” Quinn said to Darla.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” Darla rubbed Tristan’s stomach and nuzzled her neck. “Come on, baby. Let’s find someplace to sit down for a while.”

“Sure, okay. Night, Quinn.” Tristan dropped her arm over Darla’s shoulders. She definitely needed to sit down for a few minutes and clear her head. She was having trouble getting her thoughts in order, and something about what was happening didn’t feel quite right. If she could just think for a minute, she knew she’d figure it out.

“Take care of yourself, Tristan,” Quinn said.

“Always do.”

Jett walked past Linda’s house three times before pushing through the gate and starting down the path to the back. She knew the impromptu party was still going on because she could hear it. She didn’t see Tristan’s car, and she looked for it. Tris probably wasn’t here. But her apartment had been dark when Jett had driven past. Maybe Tristan was already home and asleep. Even as she thought it, Jett doubted that was true. She knew what Tristan would be looking for right now, what she needed to chase the nightmares away.

The backyard was dark and it took her a few minutes to make her way around, checking out the people standing in groups or sitting at a picnic table and on the porch. She finally saw Linda curled up on an old-fashioned porch swing next to a woman in shorts and a T-shirt.

“Hi,” Jett said.

“Jett, you made it,” Linda exclaimed. “This is my partner, Robin. Robin, honey, this is Chief McNally.”

Jett extended her hand to the other woman on the swing. “Just Jett is fine.”

“Good to meet you, finally.”

“Same here.” Jett peered through the open door into the kitchen. She recognized some faces, but not the one she was looking for. “Have you seen Tristan?”

“She was here earlier,” Linda said. “I don’t think I’ve seen her for a while, though. There are quite a few people still inside.”

“Okay. Well.” Jett rocked on her heels.

“Go check and see,” Linda said gently.

“Right.” Jett nodded to Robin, smiled at Linda, and ducked into the kitchen.

Jett found them in a room on the first floor that might be a den, but she wasn’t taking inventory of the contents. The only light came in through the open door from the hallway, but she didn’t need much light to tell what was happening on the couch. Tristan was mostly upright, sprawled with her arms outstretched on the back of the sofa and her legs splayed. Darla lay half on top of her as they kissed. Darla’s hand rested in Tristan’s crotch, her fingers circling lazily. Neither of them knew or apparently cared if they had company.

Jett felt the same burst of adrenaline and anger and fear she experienced when someone on the ground opened fire on her aircraft.

She had learned through bitter experience that the only way to survive the firefight was to fly through it. When Darla’s hand crept up Tristan’s fly and opened the top button, Jett moved. She walked to within a foot of the couch and cleared her throat.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jett said, “but I need to talk to Tristan.”

Darla shifted to look up at Jett, her fingers still toying with Tristan’s fly. “We met before, didn’t we?”

“Briefly.” Jett kept her attention on Tristan, whose eyelids were heavy and her gaze unfocused. Jett waited until she was sure Tristan saw her. “I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

“No harm,” Tristan said, her words slightly slurred.

“Yeah, there is.” Jett squatted down next to the sofa opposite Darla and spoke directly to Tristan. “You need to go home.”

Tristan looked around and grinned lopsidedly. “Aren’t I?”

“No.” Jett glanced at Darla. “I’m taking her home.”

“She seems to be pretty comfortable right here,” Darla said, rubbing Tristan’s thigh.

“She’s not. She’s hurting. My fault—or a lot of it is.”

“I take it you’re friends.” Darla eased away from Tristan just a little.

“Special friends,” Tristan mumbled. Then she laughed.

“No, we’re a lot more than that. Excuse me.” Jett leaned over, slid both hands under Tristan’s arms, and heaved her up. She held her for a few seconds tight against her body until she was certain Tristan had her legs under her. Tristan rested her head on Jett’s shoulder and Jett hooked an arm around her waist. Then she said to Darla, “She’s special to me, but not the way she thinks.”

“I can see that.” Darla stood and straightened her skirt. “She shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

“She isn’t going to be,” Jett said.

Chapter Twenty-six

“Okay,” Tristan said, “I’m okay now. Head’s nice and clear. I’ll just head on home.” Tristan patted her pockets. “Keys? Did you see my keys?” She spun in a slow circle on the sidewalk. “Have you seen my car?”

Jett grabbed her when she started to sway and leaned her against the front end of her Jeep. “Stay right there. Don’t move.”

Tristan frowned. “The last time you said that to me, you just about fucked my brains out. That was nice.”

“I remember.” Jett opened the passenger side door, collected Tristan, and, with a hand on the top of her head, guided her inside. Then she leaned in and hooked her seat belt. “Don’t move.”

“Are you going to do it again?” Tristan yelled as Jett closed the door.

Jett slid in behind the wheel, started the engine, and pulled out into the deserted street. Linda lived in a residential neighborhood and most of the houses were already dark. She glanced at Tristan, whose head lolled back against the seat. Her eyes were closed. Jett smiled. Even half drunk and dead tired, she was the most beautiful woman Jett had ever seen.

A few minutes later, Jett pulled into an empty spot along the curb a few doors down from her apartment building. She reversed the process, opening Tristan’s door, releasing her seat belt, and slipping one arm behind her back. “Let’s go, baby.”

Tristan turned her head on the seat and opened her eyes. “Did you go see Gail tonight?”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Jett said gently. “Right now, we’re going to bed.”

“Together?” Tristan frowned. “Nope. Bad idea.”

“All right.” Jett reached into the car, lifted Tristan’s legs out onto the sidewalk, and pulled Tristan out. “Up. That’s good.”

Tristan slung her arm around Jett’s shoulders. “Sorry about Darla.”

Jett shook her head and gripped Tristan’s waistband. “Come on, we’re right down here.”

“You mad?”

“No.”

Tristan sighed. “No, I guess not. We’re just fuck buddies.”

“We’ll talk about it later.”

“Nothing to be mad about. Nothing,” Tristan echoed.

Jett unlocked the outside door, keeping her arm around Tristan’s waist, and then the inner door. Three flights of stairs awaited them. She tightened her hold on Tristan, and they made it all the way up with only one missed stair that almost landed them in a heap.

“This isn’t my house,” Tristan announced.

“No, it’s mine.” Jett opened the door, reached inside for the light switch, and tugged Tristan into the apartment.

Tristan looked around. “It’s very neat. Very clean.” She turned and studied Jett intently. “Like you.”

Jett laughed. “Come on. The bathroom and the bedroom are down here.”

“Did you kiss her?” Tristan asked.

“No.” Jett took Tristan’s hand and pulled her down the hall. She pushed open the bathroom door. “Everything you need is in the medicine cabinet. All the toothbrushes in there are new.”

“Did she kiss you?” Tristan leaned against the doorjamb and spread her legs for balance.

“Yes.”

“I knew she would. I would. I’d come back for you too.” Tristan skimmed her fingertips over Jett’s cheek. “She got there first. God damn it.”

Jett gripped Tristan’s shoulders firmly and kissed her mouth very, very softly, then the line of her jaw, then below her ear. “No, she didn’t. Now shut up and get ready for bed.”

“You love her, though.”

“Shut up, Tris. We’ll talk later.” Jett pushed her over to the sink, and Tristan braced herself with both hands on the sides of the vanity, her head lowered. Jett found a toothbrush and put toothpaste on it. “Here.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“So are you. Here.”

Tristan took the toothbrush. Jett stood with her arm around Tristan’s waist while Tristan brushed and splashed cold water on her face. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Jett said.

Tristan looked at Jett in the mirror. “I want you so bad.”

Jett closed her eyes because she recognized the longing in Tristan’s. She’d seen it in her own eyes for years and never knew quite what it meant. Tristan was in no shape to hear anything right now, and if Jett kept looking at her, she was going to have to touch her. She opened her eyes, dropped her arm, and backed away. “The bedroom is right next door, Tris. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Tristan watched Jett’s reflection waver and fade in the glass and she panicked. She spun around. “Jett. I’m sorry.” The sudden motion made her dizzy and her stomach took a nasty dive. She closed her eyes and fought to stay upright. “Always push you away. Don’t mean to.”

“You don’t.” Jett steadied her. “It’s okay.”

“Please don’t go.”

“Come on.”

In the bedroom, Jett turned down the covers. “I’ll stay for a while. Get undressed so you can sleep.”

“I’m okay now,” Tristan muttered.

“I’m not.” Jett kept her eyes on Tristan’s face as she kicked off her shoes, unzipped her pants, and took them off. Then she pulled her T-shirt over her head and let it fall behind her. She slid between the sheets and Tristan hurriedly followed.

“Turn on your side,” Jett murmured, and when Tristan complied, she spooned against her from behind and wrapped an arm around her. She nuzzled her face in the bend of Tristan’s neck. “Now go to sleep.”

“I’m so fucking tired.” Tristan found Jett’s hand and molded it to her breast.

“I know you are.” Jett kissed her neck. “I know.”

“No,” Tristan protested, sounding on the verge of sleep. “Of all of it. Being lonely. Being alone.”

“I know, baby.” Jett kept her hands still, even though Tristan’s nipple was a hard knot against her palm and Tristan rocked her hips slowly in the curve of her pelvis. Desire pounded through her, warring with a tenderness so profound she wanted to weep. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed and rubbed her face over Tristan’s shoulder. She needed her in a place so deep she had no name for it.

“I can hear the way you’re breathing,” Tristan muttered. “You’re hot, aren’t you? Hard, too, like you were before.”

“Yes,” Jett said thickly. “You do that to me. Now shut up, and go to sleep.”

“Make yourself come,” Tristan whispered. “Do it for me.”

Jett shuddered. “Tristan.”

“Please, babe. Hold me while you do it.” Tristan clasped Jett’s hand and squeezed Jett’s fingers around her breast. “I need you and I’m so fucking tired.”

“It’s about more than just being hot, Tris,” Jett whispered.

“Yeah. For me too.” Tristan released Jett’s hand and rolled onto her back. She hooked her arm around Jett’s shoulder and pulled her close. “But that’s part of it. Isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Do it.” Tristan kissed Jett’s forehead. “Do it.”

Jett slid her thigh over Tristan’s and reached down. “Hold me.”

“You too.”

“I will.” Jett turned her face against Tristan’s neck and filled her mind and senses with Tristan. She moaned when she came, and Tristan, sighing with pleasure, finally relaxed into sleep.

Five hours later Tristan opened her eyes, sat up in the strange bed, and took stock of her surroundings. The room was spartan. A single dresser with items arranged in orderly rows on top of it. A double closet, the doors closed. A chair beside the closet with a pile of neatly arranged clothes, probably waiting to be put away. Books on the bedside table. Sunlight just beginning to break through the windows. A small electric clock reading 6:32.

She pushed the sheet aside and swung her legs to the floor. She was naked. She ran her hand over her chest and down her abdomen, and then she remembered Jett. She remembered Jett shuddering in her arms, softly whispering her name as she trembled and came, and the memory took her legs out from under her. She ended up back down on the bed, her limbs shaking and her heart doing somersaults. God, she couldn’t think of another night, another woman, another moment that had felt so special.

The rest of the evening came back in a flash, and she remembered pretty much all of it. Except how she’d ended up on the sofa with Darla on top of her. For a few minutes there she’d checked her sanity at the door. Christ, and Jett had found her that way. Now Jett was missing.

She looked around again and saw her clothes folded on a battered locker at the foot of the bed. She was certain she didn’t do that. Jett must have done it after she was asleep. Jett had taken care of her. Not the way Darla would have, but Darla would only have done what she knew Tristan wanted. Only now, Tristan realized that this was what she wanted. A stack of folded clothes, the safety of being held, someone to look in on her in the night. No, not just someone. Jett.

Tristan stood again and waited for a few seconds for her stomach to settle. No headache, but she was queasy. She’d been too strung out and tired the night before to eat. No wonder a couple of scotches had practically put her on her ass. On her ass with Darla in her pants. Jesus.

She picked up the pile of clothes and frowned. Sorting through them, she realized that they were not only neatly folded and stacked, they were clean. She tucked them under her arm and crept quietly down the hall in the direction of the living room.

Jett sat on a stool at the table in a faded green T-shirt and matching boxer shorts—Army issue, probably—bent over an array of tiny gold workings and several empty watch cases. She wore magnifying glasses built into a visor around her head. She held tiny screwdrivers and tweezers in a delicate grip. Tristan felt a twinge in her belly remembering what those hands were capable of doing to her body.

“You did my laundry,” Tristan said.

Jett swiveled in her direction and took off her visor. Her eyes scanned Tristan’s naked body. “It was either that or burn them. Mine too.”

“Thank you.” Tristan walked toward her. “Did you sleep at all?”

“An hour or two.” Jett leaned back on her stool until the table stopped her from easing away any further. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling like I don’t know what’s going on.” Tristan dropped the clothes on the floor next to Jett. She held her hands out at her sides, palms facing Jett. “I feel like one of those watches you’ve got there, with my insides scattered all over this apartment. I need you to put them back.”

Jett rose abruptly and pulled Tristan into her arms. She kissed her, one hand on the back of her head, her fingers laced through Tristan’s hair. She was trembling. So was Tristan.

“Tris,” Jett whispered, her mouth gliding down Tristan’s neck. Her skin was so soft, sweet and salty. She rested her forehead on the top of Tristan’s shoulder, watching Tristan’s nipples tighten as her breasts rose and fell rapidly. “I want you, but—”

Tristan groaned. “Please. You want casual, I’ll do casual. Just, please…please don’t tell me to go.”

“No!” Jett jerked her head up and cradled Tristan’s face. “No. No. Not ever. I can’t.”

“Then what?” Tristan cried. “You love her? Is that it?”

“No,” Jett exclaimed again. “Jesus. No. I’m in love with you.”

“Are you going back to…” Tristan flinched. “What did you just say?”

Jett took in the absolute confusion and disbelief on Tristan’s face, and she understood. She finally got it. Tristan didn’t expect to be loved.

She didn’t believe she’d ever be more than someone’s “friend with benefits,” a temporary diversion. Tristan was so wrong.

“I said,” Jett repeated softly, “I love you.”

“Oh fuck.” Tristan buried her face in Jett’s neck. After a second, Jett realized she was crying.

“Hey. Tris. Hey.” Jett led her to the sofa and pulled her down.

She fumbled for the thin blanket she kept folded up on the back for the nights when she slept there and draped it around Tristan’s shoulders.

“Just listen, okay.” She pulled Tristan into her arms and rubbed Tristan’s back through the light cotton covering.

“Listen.”

“I’m in room 1017,” Gail said. “Come up.”

Jett rode the elevator, not thinking about much of anything at all.

She’d never once been alone with Gail anywhere except on the military base. She couldn’t quite believe she was going to see her, here, now.

After all this time.

She walked down the hall and stood in front of the door, contemplating why she had come. Wondering if it was another mistake she would regret for a lifetime. Before she could knock, the door opened. Gail stood in the entrance in a light blue silk robe that came to mid thigh, tied loosely at her waist. Her hair was damp and tousled, the way it used to look just after she’d showered.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you,” Gail said.

“I should’ve called.” Jett backed up. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“No!” Gail hurriedly grasped Jett’s hand and pulled her into the room, then closed the door and locked it. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

“I almost didn’t.” Jett took several steps and stopped abruptly. She could see the bed now. The covers were turned down and the sheets were very crisp and very white. She felt awkward and out of place. She did not belong in this room with this woman like this.

Gail turned back when she realized Jett was no longer following.

She grasped Jett’s upper arms and ran her hands up and down them, as if afraid if she stopped touching her, Jett would disappear. She leaned into her and kissed her softly. “I’m sorry about what happened. About our misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding.”

“Yes.” Gail cupped Jett’s cheek. “You must know how terribly fond of you I am.”

Jett nodded. “I’m a lesbian, are you?”

Gail couldn’t have looked more surprised if Jett had slapped her.

“Of course not. I told you that.”

“Then why did you kiss me?”

“We’re friends. I’m glad to see you.”

“No. That night.”

“I didn’t.”

“All right. Then I apologize. Good night.” Jett turned and reached for the door. Gail might not be able to admit the truth, but Jett could.

Gail had wanted Jett to kiss her, and she’d kissed her back. But Gail had never loved her, and she…she had loved a dream.

“Jett!”

Jett didn’t turn around.

“I can’t risk my career.” Suddenly Gail was behind her with her arms around Jett’s waist. Her breasts were firm against Jett’s back as her hands roamed over the front of Jett’s body, caressing her breasts, her stomach, the length of her thighs. “But we could have these ten days. They could be our secret.”

“A secret.”

“Yes,” Gail said urgently, turning Jett to face her. Her robe was partially open, her breasts nearly exposed. She pressed against Jett, her arms around Jett’s neck. “God, I’ve dreamed about this.”

“I thought I frightened you. I thought I hurt you.” Jett caught Gail’s hands and stopped her from pulling her shirt from her pants. “I wanted you so much, and I thought I hurt you. I thought that’s why you left.”

“I couldn’t, not there. But here. Here.” Gail kissed Jett again, her breath coming fast. “No one ever needs to know.”

Jett gently pushed her away. “I would know.”

“Please, Jett,” Gail pleaded. “You need it. I know you do.”

“No, I don’t. Not like this.” Jett opened the door and left her sorrow where it belonged, in the past. “Good-bye, Gail.”

“I want to kill her for hurting you,” Tristan said when Jett finished telling her.

Jett lay back on the couch and pulled Tristan with her so they were side by side. She kissed Tristan softly. “It’s over. I’m okay—sad, maybe, but for her more than me. But thank you.”

Tristan, her expression solemn, traced a fingertip along the edge of Jett’s jaw. “Do you still love her?”

“I told you this morning. I love you. I never loved Gail—I never loved anyone—the way I love you.”

“But you said but earlier…if it’s not Gail, then what?”

Tristan’s voice held so much uncertainty and pain, Jett’s insides hurt. She didn’t want Tristan to doubt how special she was, but she was afraid of her own feelings. She shifted uneasily and pulled away. “It’s me, Tris. The way I am.”

Tristan gripped her harder. “Don’t. Don’t pull away from me. What do you mean, the way you are?”

“That night with Gail, I lost it,” Jett confessed. “I was kissing her, and then something snapped and I was just crazy out of my mind to have her. I thought that’s what drove her away. I’m like that with you, only worse. It’s like…I feel sometimes if I can’t get inside you, own you, make you want me that way, I’ll die.” Jett pressed her face into Tristan’s hair. “God, Tris, I can’t help it.”

“And you think I want that to change,” Tristan asked, her voice husky. “Don’t you know I want you to want me that much?” She straddled Jett’s thigh, her naked center against Jett’s leg. “Can you feel how hot I am? How wet I am? I’m soaking you, aren’t I?”

“Mmm, yeah. Now look who’s hard.” Jett gripped Tristan’s hips and pressed her leg harder between Tristan’s thighs. Tristan rapidly slid down the length of her thigh and back up, then moaned and did it again. “Keep that up and you’re going to come.”

“I want to.” Tristan threw her head back, gripping Jett’s wrists. She looked down, her eyes hazy, searching Jett’s face. “Can I?”

Jett eased one hand between Tristan’s legs and stroked her clitoris. “Say please.”

“Oh, Jesus, please.” Tristan rocked harder, rubbing herself on Jett’s hand. “Please, babe, please. Help me get off.”

“Why should I?” Jett countered, speeding up her hand action between Tristan’s legs.

“Because I need you,” Tristan cried.

“Why else?” Jett demanded.

“Because I love you.” Tristan ground into Jett, her eyes flickering between Jett’s face and Jett’s hand between her legs. “I love you. Oh God, babe, you’re going to make me come.”

“That’s all right, baby, that’s what I want.” Jett finally understood what she’d always needed. “Because I love you too.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

Jett couldn’t believe she’d actually fallen asleep and slept without dreaming. Judging by the slant of sunlight coming through the windows on the opposite side of the room, it was late morning, close to noon. She never slept that many hours in a row.

And she never slept without part of her mind being aware of her surroundings. Tristan was still curled up beside her, her head on Jett’s shoulder. Jett stroked her hair.

“Hey,” Tristan murmured, rubbing Jett’s stomach with her hand underneath Jett’s T-shirt. “You don’t move when you sleep.”

Jett laughed. “Did you stay awake the whole time to check?”

“You don’t relax completely, either.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I feel pretty relaxed right now.”

Tristan cupped Jett lightly between the legs. “Oh yeah?”

Jett hissed. “Easy there. My trigger’s pretty tight where you’re concerned.”

“Yeah?” Tristan eased up on her elbow, slid two fingers into the opening of Jett’s boxers, and worked a finger around either side of Jett’s clitoris. “That’s nice.”

“That’s teasing.” Jett’s stomach pitched and rolled. She hadn’t come since last night and she needed to. Wanted to. Wanted Tristan in so many ways she was almost paralyzed.

“You look worried. Why?” Tristan kissed her and continued to slowly fondle her.

“I’m…not.” Jett couldn’t stop her legs from trembling and she realized her fingers must be digging into Tristan’s arm. She consciously loosened her grip.

“You don’t get it yet, do you?” Tristan flicked her tongue over Jett’s mouth, then down the center of her chin. She bit her neck, then licked all the way down to her collarbone. “I like the way you are. I like what you need. I want to give it to you.”

“Too much.” Jett shook her head, trying to make sense of her jumbled thoughts. “I might want too much.”

Tristan laughed and pushed up to her knees. She spread open Jett’s boxers, leaned down, and kissed the swell of her clitoris. “I wouldn’t worry about that.” She closed the material and patted Jett lightly between the legs. “I need a shower. Come with me.”

Jett narrowed her eyes. “What the hell? You do me like that and then walk away?”

“Got to keep you interested.” Tristan pushed off the couch and disappeared down the hall.

“God damn it.” Jett bolted up and almost fell over, her legs were so weak. She steadied herself on the sofa, then took off. By the time she reached the bathroom, the shower was running and Tristan was standing under the spray, her head tossed back and water cascading through her thick dark hair and over her muscled shoulders and back.

Jett stood completely still with the glass door open and drank her in.

She forgot about needing to come. She forgot about worrying that what she needed would drive Tristan away. She couldn’t think of anything except what a miracle it was to have Tristan here, and how much she loved her. She slid in behind her and kissed her neck.

“Took you long enough,” Tristan murmured. She turned, pressed Jett against the wall, and kissed her, slipping one wet thigh between Jett’s legs. “I love you. Have I told you that?”

“Yes,” Jett said. “A few hours ago.”

“That long? I’ll be sure to repeat myself more often.”

“You were also about to come, and when a woman is about to come, she’ll say anything,” Jett teased, sucking a drop of water from the end of Tristan’s chin.

“You’ll notice I’m not coming now,” Tristan said. “And I love you. Okay? I’m not in this just for the sex.” She grinned. “Although I won’t pretend I don’t think about it a lot. Like all the time.”

Jett smoothed her hands over Tristan’s shoulders, then gripped her firmly and held her at arm’s length. “About Darla.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Tristan took a deep breath. “I don’t even have an excuse, babe. I—”

“You don’t need an excuse—not for last night.” Jett continued her caresses over Tristan’s chest, around the sides of her breasts. “But I’m not going to be happy if it happens again.”

“It’s not going to happen again,” Tristan said quietly. “Not with anyone. I love you. I want you, so much I can hardly breathe. You’re it for me, babe.”

Jett leaned her head back against the wall, feeling completely centered for the first time in her life. “For me too.”

“That’s good.” Tristan knelt between Jett’s legs. “Because I don’t think I could stand it if anyone else touched you.”

Jett looked down and watched Tristan take her into her mouth. The slow pulse of her heart beating between Tristan’s lips was nothing like she’d imagined it would be. She could feel herself opening, pouring into Tristan’s mouth, her soul flowing to meet Tristan’s as surely as her body yielded to Tristan’s insistent demands. Jett pushed herself deeper and Tristan used her teeth, the tip of her tongue, her lips, biting and circling and sucking.

“I’m getting close to coming. Really close.” Jett steadied herself with her hands on Tristan’s shoulders. She would come, if Tristan wanted her to. She would wait, if that was what Tristan wanted. “Whatever you want, Tris,” she gasped. “Whatever you want. It’s yours.”

Tristan glanced up and took her mouth away for an instant. “You. That’s what I want. I want you.”

“I’m yours.”

Then Tristan put her mouth back and Jett came.

“Feeling better?” Honor asked as Quinn came into the bedroom, toweling her hair after her shower.

“Couldn’t be better.” Quinn grinned, leaned over to kiss her, then smoothed a hand over Jack’s head. “Thanks.”

Honor laughed. “Believe me, it was entirely my pleasure.”

Quinn pulled shorts from the top drawer of the dresser. “How about you? You were on your feet a long time. Is your incision bothering you?”

“I’m a little achy, but nothing serious.” Honor sat up on the side of the bed and put Jack back in his bassinet. “It’s almost time for me to go back to work anyhow.”

“Take the last week you’ve still got coming to you.” Quinn slipped into her T-shirt, then sat down in the big overstuffed chair to put on her sneakers and socks. “You don’t want to go back to work on Labor Day weekend. It’s always crazy.”

Honor padded across the room and sat on Quinn’s lap. “You just want to keep me at home, barefoot and pregnant.”

“I do think you’re really sexy when you’re pregnant.” Quinn leaned back and pulled Honor against her chest. She kissed her and lightly cupped her breast. “Very sexy now too.”

“I’m not getting any younger,” Honor whispered.

“That’s okay, baby.” Quinn kissed her forehead, then her mouth again. “I’m happy just exactly the way things are.”

“But I think I could do another one in a year or so.”

Quinn searched Honor’s eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

Quinn grinned. “I’d like tha—”

The door burst open and Arly raced in. “Hey, Quinn! We’re going to be late.”

Honor shifted on Quinn’s lap and fixed Arly with a stare. “The door? What are the rules?”

“Oh.” Arly threw a beseeching look in Quinn’s direction, then ran out, slammed the door, and knocked.

Honor gave Quinn a long look. “Are you positive you want more of that for another couple of decades?”

“Never more certain.” Quinn kissed Honor quickly one more time, then called, “Come on in, Arly. We’re all yours.”

“Hi, Tris.” Linda, curled up in the corner of the couch with a cup of coffee and a novel, greeted Tristan with a smile when she walked into the flight lounge. “Are you on call again?”

“Nope. Just visiting.”

Linda raised her eyebrows and gave Tristan the once-over.

“Looking for Jett?”

Tristan grinned. “How did you guess?”

Linda tapped the side of her neck with two fingers.

“Huh?” Then Tristan rubbed her neck in the same spot and felt a twinge of pain. She laughed. “Oh. What did she do, leave her initials?”

“I saw you two leave last night,” Linda admitted. “You’re good, but how many women could you have in one night?” She held up her hand quickly. “Don’t answer that question.”

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t about to,” Tristan teased back.

Linda stared at the coffee cup she was holding for a few seconds, then back at Tristan. “She’s a real sweetheart, you know.”

“Believe me, I know that.” Tristan leaned a hip on the arm of the couch. “I guess you saw Darla too, huh?”

“Ah, well…”

“I’m not going to hurt Jett.”

Linda blushed. “I’m being nosy. Jett’s an adult. I’m sure she—”

“I’m totally crazy about her,” Tristan said softly.

“Oh!” Linda’s face lit up. “Well, in that case. Does she know?”

“I think so. But just to be sure,” Tristan stood, “I’m here to tell her again.”

Jett initialed the last box on her preflight checklist and stowed the clipboard next to her seat in the cockpit. She sensed someone behind her and turned. Tristan stood a few feet away, her hands on her hips, watching her. She wore jeans and a pale blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Her expression was part appraisal, part ownership. Jett’s heart speeded up. “Hi. I thought you were off tonight.”

“I missed you.”

“I’ve only been gone an hour.” Jett leaned back against the aircraft because seeing Tristan look at her that way pretty much knocked her out.

“Is that all? Seems like a lot longer,” Tristan murmured, moving closer. She unzipped Jett’s flight suit, opening it from neck to crotch, and slid her hands inside. She kissed Jett’s neck. “You’ll be careful tonight, won’t you?”

“I’ll be careful every night.” Jett gripped Tristan’s wrists and drew her hands away from her body. Then she zipped up. “I’m officially working now. Sex is against regulations.”

Tristan dropped her forehead to Jett’s shoulder and groaned. “I think I’m going to hate night call.”

“Just think of it this way,” Jett whispered, rubbing the back of Tristan’s neck. “You get to have all the morning sex you can handle.”

Tristan clasped Jett’s hand and leaned back beside her, their shoulders touching. “Does that mean you’re going to come home to me every morning?”

“Are you asking me to?”

“Yes.”

Jett cradled Tristan’s hand in both of hers and kissed her knuckles.

“Then that’s affirmative.”

Tristan rested her head against Jett’s shoulder. “I’m pretty sure I could learn to love night call.”