Chapter 1

Scarlett

Friday 4.37pm

My head is pounding. I’m craving sugar and caffeine when my fourth client of the day appears.

From behind my desk, I force a smile as I see Megan Davis walk through the door.

Middle-aged, divorced mom to three kids, Megan is one of my more reluctant and usually frazzled clients.

I scan her posture and know in three seconds she’s in pain again. Her forehead is creased and she’s unconsciously shielding her left arm.

“Hi. Sorry, I’m a little late,” she says.

I smile and gesture for her to take a seat. “No problem, I’ve got a quiet afternoon. How are you managing at home?”

She flops into the seat opposite me and extends her arm. “I’m just pleased I broke my left arm.”

I open the tub of anti-inflammatory. “Are you taking the pain meds?”

She grimaces. “They make me nauseous.”

I frown at her as I spread a layer of gel on her outstretched arm. “Hmm. Maybe switch to alternating ibuprofen and paracetamol?”

She nods and slouches back as I start to work on her arm. From the mischievous grin that appears, I know she’s going to start up a conversation about my love life or lack of one.

“Friday night. Any plans?”

I shake my head, thinking about the bottle of wine and tub of mint choc chip ice cream I plan to demolish. “Just the usual. Nothing too exciting.”

Her eyebrow arches. “That’s what you said two weeks ago. If I looked like you…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence just sits back and frowns at me. “Seriously, a gorgeous girl like you should be out having fun.”

I shrug and work my thumbs on a muscle knot and hope I can placate her. “Well, I’m going to my sister’s wedding tomorrow.”

Megan straightens in her chair. “That’s perfect. Maybe you’ll find someone nice there?”

I pull a face. “I doubt it. It’s just a small event. And honestly, I’m really not looking for anyone right now.”

I don’t tell her why. I don’t tell her Cal cheated on me over six months ago, and that’s why I’m single.

After Cal cheated, my libido has taken a nose-dive along with my confidence. My sister’s wedding is going to be yet another reminder that I’m dateless, clueless and probably always will be.

I have the worst luck with men. My first boyfriend dumped me the night before Senior Prom, and my college boyfriend decided he was gay the morning after we slept together.

To avoid any further conversation about how I’m a perma-single, I change the subject to a safer one. “It’s in an old mining town. I have to fly there for the weekend.”

Flying is something I usually avoid. I loathe everything about it. And would rather have driven like my parents are, but with my work schedule flying is going to be a necessary evil.

Unaware of my dislike of airplanes, Megan just nods. “Where is it?”

“I’m staying in a place called West Fork, I think, but the wedding is in a little church in Macetown. The guests will be flown by private plane to the church.”

Her eyes pop. “Wow. That sounds elaborate.”

I keep the majority of my thoughts to myself. “That’s my little sister.”

That’s not even close to the truth. My sister likes expensive things and has been wanting a massive wedding since we were little.

That she’s settled for a tiny one in a location no one visits so a private plane is needed, goes beyond elaborate, it’s almost inexplicable.

Worse than her about-turn on the wedding of her dreams, is that the only thing I know about Michael Burrows is that he comes from money, but then that’s pretty much what Chelsea is all about.

Right from when we were in first grade, while I was daydreaming about being a princess locked up in a tower saved by a knight in shining armor, she was planning out what gifts she’d get on her wedding day.

While I was going for the shy, quiet types, Chelsea went for the cocky, flashy wealthy boys who she thought could take care of her.

Then when it would all come crashing down around her, it would be me picking up the pieces and promising not to tell mom and dad she’d been ditching class and sneaking out to meet them.

Rather than tell Megan my sister has spent her life thinking money and sex are more important than friendship and compatibility; we spend the rest of her appointment time chatting about Megan’s kids.

By the time she’s getting up, telling me her arm feels much better, my head is pounding so hard my vision is blurred.

I smile and tell her to make another appointment with the receptionist. Hiding my pain as I wish her a good weekend, I head back into my room, slide open my drawer and swallow a couple of Advil.

I’m downing some water when Jeff, my tech, appears in the doorway.

His sanitizer at the ready, he grins at me. “I’m taking off. Anything you need?”

I shake my head and groan. “I’m fine, thanks. I’ll see you Monday.”

He squints at me as I start to rub my temples. “Another headache? Maybe you should see a doc?”

It’s not the first time someone has suggested it. “It’s just eye strain. I’ll be fine after I get out of here.”

He shifts and looks ready to leave when he hovers in the doorway. “Yeah. We both know you won’t. You spend all your time looking after your clients, maybe send a little of that care to yourself?”

I sigh wearily. “You’re right. I’ll make an appointment for next week.”

He smiles and waves a hand as he heads back out to reception leaving me with thoughts I’d rather not have.

Because I should go see a doctor. But not the kind he’s thinking of.

Since I’m reasonably certain the headaches that appeared around the time Cal cheated, are a symptom of a deeper problem, I know a psychologist would say they’re psychosomatic.

It doesn’t matter how many people tell me Cal was a lying sack of shit, there is always going to be a part of me that believes that he had reason to cheat.

Despite being told I’m an attractive woman, it stands to reason that if men keep finding me undesirable, there is a possibility I’m the one with the problem.

I’m beginning to see why women lower their standards. In all my years of dating, I haven’t found anyone who comes close to measuring up to my father’s code of honor.

With a heavy sigh, I concede defeat to my headache and leave the paperwork for Monday morning.

I promised Mom I’d call to confirm everything, so I use my office phone and smother a yawn.

She picks up instantly. “Hey, mom. Did you arrive in West Fork okay? How’s Chelsea?”

Her reply comes out tense. “Chelsea’s a little jittery. Honestly, I don’t like to speak ill of people, but Michael’s mother has been decidedly…”

I know she won’t say anything negative, so I finish her sentence. “Unhelpful?”

She clears her throat. “Well. Yes. That too. But I was going to say absent. She’s barely left her hotel room since they arrived in West Fork.”

I rub my temple. “What about Michael? Is he around much?”

She sighs heavily so I already have my answer. “I’ve barely seen him. I’m beginning to wonder if Michael didn’t realize how isolated this spot is. He seems to be tracking down cell signals a lot of the time.”

I frown at the pile of paperwork on my desk. Until now, I haven’t had a chance to talk much to mom about the unusual circumstances surrounding the location.

“Michael’s family are high profile, aren’t they? Maybe they just wanted Michael to get married quietly? If they had a big wedding with a lot of glitz, they’d draw more attention?”

I can hear the doubt in her voice when she replies. “Possibly. Your father suggested the same. But they don’t even want to have a rehearsal and the celebrant is a friend of Nathan Burrows’. Isn’t that just the oddest thing?”

It is slightly odd. But so is marrying a man you barely know at dusk in a ghost town.

“I guess that’s what she and Michael wanted? Mom, I’m sorry. I have a terrible headache, I need to go home and pack. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As I end the call, I have nagging suspicion Chelsea’s ‘little’ wedding isn’t going to be as quiet as Michael’s family probably hope it’ll be.

Even if the guest list is exclusive, Chelsea’s yearnings for a big white wedding will go unmet.

Michael’s family can’t possibly know Chelsea thrives on drama.

If there is any to be found, guaranteed Chelsea will either find it or find a way to make some.

Rather than the wine and ice cream I’d planned, all I can think about is getting into bed.

With the entire weekend before me and my little sister sure to be a handful, that’s precisely what I need to do.

***

Dexter

5.34pm Friday.

Sweat is dripping in my eyes and I’m breathing too fast as First Class Cadet Jack Carnegie and the only person here who knows about my family pushes me against the ropes.

While I’m struggling to breathe, he’s able to grin through his mouthguard and goad me. “Told you last night, you can’t handle your shit. No wonder they booted you out.”

I grunt a response, irritated he’s right. Drinking till four in the morning seemed like a good idea, and until my only friend on base showed up half an hour ago and suggested sparring, it’d been the perfect distraction.

I grit my teeth and push back against him. “I’m not out. I’m just taking a breather.”

A slight lie, I am still in the Academy, but as per usual, I’m just hanging in by the skin of my teeth.

One innocent flirtation with an instructor’s daughter and I’m on suspension pending review.

I manage to get in a decent uppercut before he does what he always does, lands a low blow, that leaves me gasping for air. “You still owe me twenty bucks for that round last night,” he says.

I shake my head, sending sweat flying over the mat as I hang on the rope and catch my breath. “Bull shit,” I manage.

Rather than let him have to last word, I surprise him with an uppercut that sends him staggering backward.

He spits his mouthguard out and starts to strip off his gloves. “Fine. You can keep the twenty. You need it more than I do. You still looking for work?”

I nod, and swing under the rope and jump down. “You have something?”

He looks cagey as he grabs his water bottle and scans the near-empty base rec room. “I might know of something. A friend of a friend is getting married. He needs a pilot.”

I scowl at him. “For what?”

When he sniffs and won’t look at me, I know it’s going to be bad. “He wants someone to take guests up for rides over the weekend. Somehow he’s wrangled a bird but no pilot.”

I shake my head. I don’t even want to know how this guy has a plane but no one to fly it.

“Why don’t you want it?”

Jack pulls a face. “Are you kidding me? I have multiple girls lining up for a piece of Jack this weekend.”

I snort a laugh. “Sure. Just like last weekend.”

He sniffs and gives me the finger. “Apparently, he wants to learn how to fly. Play your cards right; you could earn a little cash teaching him on the sly.”

Since that’s against the Academy rules, I’m ready to tell him I’m not interested when he throws in a sweetener. “The groom’s father is pals with Wing Commander Halberg. You do this right; you’ll be back in the program this time next week.”

I don’t even have to mull it over. Even I wasn’t perilously close to losing my place; I need the cash to pay off the loan I took out to pay for my truck.

I yank my gloves off and shake out my hands as we walk towards the showers. “Yeah. But I also have to suffer through wedding shit,” I say.

He shrugs. “You don’t need to be at the wedding. They just need a pilot around. The same way they keep a driver around.”

I shake my head. “Nice for some.”

He chuckles and tosses his gloves on the bench. The sounds of cadets come from behind us as they shower off after another grueling PT session.

“Yeah, well. You get in with Michael Burrows, you’ll always have a job for when you crash and burn here.”

I curl my lip as I grab a towel. “Fuck you too.”

He gives me the card of the guy I need to call. “Have fun.”

Since he knows it’ll be anything but fun, I flip him a double bird as he struts away laughing.

I take a quick shower and head back to my room so I can call in peace.

With the arrival of new cadets, the base is humming as a busload of newbies file off, looking scared out of their minds.

They should be. They’re about to lose pretty much all the freedom they had.

Instead of watching them go through the first day of basic training, I avoid the doolies, and like I always do, avoid pretty much all the other cadets.

I sink into my bunk, staring at the Air Force motto on the wall. Integrity First. Service Before Self. Excellence in all we do.

I pull the card Jack gave me out and tap the number into my phone and clear my throat as it starts to ring. “Yes?”

“Michael Burrows?”

“Who’s asking?”

I frown at the wall. Not exactly off to a stellar start. “I’m a friend of Jack’s. Dexter. He said you’re looking for a pilot?”

There’s a long enough pause to make me hold my breath. “When can you start?”

My lips twitch into a smile. At least I don’t have to worry about making my loan payment for this month.

“Whenever you need me,” I say.

I can hear a high-pitched female voice in the background. “My fiancé wants you to be available to fly some of her guests on scenic trips. I’ll be needing you for business reasons. Since you will be working irregular hours, you need to be contactable at all times.”

“I don’t have anything on this weekend,” I say.

“Fine. Meet me at West Fork Airstrip, hanger nine, tonight at seven. And another thing. I need you to be solely focused on me and my fiancé's needs, and not messing around with any guests, are we clear?”

I open my mouth to ask him why he thinks might be an issue, but he’s already gone leaving me no room to argue.

Not that I have to think too hard anyway. Jack and I have always had a combative relationship and he never misses an opportunity to slam me even if he’s singing my praises too.

Ever since I bumped him from top of the class in physics and managed to screw a girl he was trying to all in my first week of arriving here.

I toss my phone on my bed and lace my fingers behind my head. At least this weekend means I’ll be distracted by more than the cheap whiskey and cheaper women on offer at the closest bar.

Keeping busy means I won’t have as much time to dwell on what will happen if the review board decides my moral integrity isn’t up to scratch.

A suspension is bad enough. I graduated from Civil Air Patrol and earned my spot here, but I’ll never make it through to the Officer Program unless the review board clears me.

But if Jack is right and I make a good enough impression with the groom and his father, if I do everything right, there’s a good chance the Wing Commander Halberg will help me.

And I need all the help I can get. One fucking mistake with a hot woman and now my integrity and my suitability for continued training are being questioned.

I just have to suck it up and get through this weekend without doing anything even remotely immoral.

Women and aviation do not mix. Not for me, anyway. It’s too much of a temptation. And after the last time, I’m not willing to sacrifice my final chance for a piece of ass.

With any luck, I’ll be too busy flying over the Rockies to have any real time with any single wedding guests who show interest.

I’m as red-blooded as the next man, and women, single or not, like to play Top Gun when they find out I’m a pilot on track to be an officer.

Add in a little alcohol, a sappy event like a wedding, and I’d have women crawling over me.

Usually, I’d be happy to be on the receiving end of that little fantasy.

I’ve done it before, taken them up, got them wet then touched down, found a quiet spot and while they were still buzzing from the flight, sent them off satisfied.

But not this time. No matter what I can’t give in to temptation.

I put one step wrong; I piss off the wrong wedding guest, I’m as good as grounded.