In the Army there was always more work. Now when she had to take time off and she couldn’t sleep and she couldn’t shut off the pictures in her head, she restored antique timepieces. She preferred watches because the mechanisms were so small that she had to focus all her energy on manipulating the tiny parts. She couldn’t think about anything else then—not about where she’d been, or where she was going, or what she’d lost.

Flying was the same. Her aircraft, her crew, and her passengers required every bit of her concentration, and while she was flying, she had no past and no future. Only the now. No memories to expunge, no dreams to discard. In between flights, she waited for those moments to come again.

Maybe she’d said yes to this adventure because Tristan hadn’t been put off by her shields. Even now, Tristan seemed content to drive and allow silence to fall between them. Jett was grateful for that. She wasn’t any good at small talk. She had never understood the point of discussing things that had no meaning, and now, other than her job, nothing much had meaning for her. She wondered what would happen when the silence no longer protected her.

Tristan turned right onto School House Lane. She rented the second floor of an old Victorian, half a block down the street from Honor and Quinn. Quinn had actually found the listing for her right after Tristan had accepted the position at PMC. She hadn’t had time to take Quinn up on her offer of dinner at Quinn and Honor’s home, even though they were practically next-door neighbors. But she had agreed to help Quinn coach a soccer team. That seemed like the least she could do to say thanks for all Quinn’s help. The fields where she was due to start coaching soccer in another week were a quarter of a mile in the other direction. Despite being within the city limits, the residential area had an old-fashioned neighborhood feel to it. She recognized the cars parked on her street, and the kids who ran up and down the sidewalk in the late afternoon, and the women carrying shopping bags back from the Super Fresh, and the guys with six-packs tucked under their arms.

The working-class neighborhood was nothing like the enclave where she’d been raised, with manicured lawns and circular drives guarded by stone animals. She liked it much better where she was now.

“This is it,” Tristan said as she pulled into the curb in front of the sprawling three-story white structure with a wide front porch at the end of a flagstone walkway.

Jett looked out her window and frowned. “This looks like your house.”

“Yes.” Tristan turned off the engine and pulled her keys from the ignition. “I’ve got coffee and some frozen coffee cake. Hungry?”

“You didn’t say you were going to cook.”

Tristan grinned. “I was afraid to scare you away. Besides, I’m not cooking. I’m microwaving.”

Jett hesitated but Tristan was already out of the car and headed around to the sidewalk. At the very least, Jett had to get out of the vehicle, and when she did, she couldn’t just walk away. Wasn’t really sure she wanted to. Despite Tristan’s super-confident, take-charge manner, Jett didn’t feel manipulated. Tristan pushed, but she was so casually open about it, Jett was more curious than wary.

“I don’t want you to go to any trouble,” Jett said, climbing out and closing the door behind her. She glanced up the street, pretty certain she knew where she was. Probably no more than a mile or two from her apartment complex. She could easily walk. She could say she was more tired than she’d realized, thank this woman for the ride, and just walk away. That would be the smart thing to do. She didn’t move.

Tristan tilted her head and regarded Jett thoughtfully. She seemed ready to bolt. Tristan couldn’t tell if it was simple shyness, or something else. Jett didn’t look like the shy type. Women who flew medevac helicopters weren’t usually shy and retiring, any more than surgeons or anesthesiologists were. When you measured life or death in seconds, there wasn’t much room for uncertainty. “It’s no trouble. As I recall, I invited you.”

“Just the same.”

“Just the same, let’s go get some coffee.” Tristan turned and walked away.

Left with no choice, Jett followed her up the sidewalk, noting her long, powerful strides. Her hair shimmered like black gold in the sunlight, and her broad shoulders, narrow waist, and muscular hips and legs made Jett wonder if she was a swimmer. She had the body for it. The thought was disconcerting because Jett wasn’t accustomed to noticing women’s bodies. In the service, she’d trained herself not to.

She slowed as she approached the white stone steps that led up to the porch, thinking about all the times in her life she’d been faced with the choice between stepping into the unknown, or retreating into safety.

She almost always chose the riskier path because the excitement of challenge, the rush of danger, satisfied her in a visceral way. The only other thing that came close to the intensity of that feeling was sex, and she hadn’t allowed herself that in a long time. There was danger, and then there was foolhardiness.

“So,” Tristan said, already across the porch and holding open the door for Jett, “I’m on the second floor.”

Once again, the choice seemed clear. Jett climbed the steps and went through the door into a long hallway carpeted in a faded, dark floral print, with a staircase at the far end. She climbed up one floor and waited for Tristan on the landing.

“Where did you learn to fly?” Tristan asked as she extracted her keys.

“The Army.”

“No kidding. How long have you been out?”

Jett didn’t answer and Tristan decided it wasn’t the time to push.

She slipped past Jett to open the door to her apartment. When she did, their bodies briefly touched. Instantly, her system went on full alert.

All the pent-up urgency and excitement of the previous night coalesced into a simmering knot of arousal in the pit of her stomach. She’d been thinking about sex since she left the hospital, and this pilot was one attractive woman. Of course, she had no idea what Jett’s interests were, and why she was even thinking about it, she wasn’t sure. Jett hadn’t given off a single vibe in that direction, but telling her body that was pointless. Mentally sighing, Tristan opened her door and stepped inside.

She smiled at Jett. “Come on in.”

“I’m awake,” Honor called at the soft knocking on her door. She smothered a smile when she saw her best friend Linda and frowned at the small, trim blonde instead. “Oh sure, now you show up. When all the hard work is done.”

Linda, in jeans and a sleeveless yellow blouse, glanced around the room. “Where’s Quinn?”

“I finally got her to leave. She promised to take a nap in the trauma call room until the next feeding. Did you hear?”

“Uh-huh. A boy.” Linda perched carefully on the foot of Honor’s bed. “That’s wonderful, honey.”

“I wish you could’ve been here.”

“I’m sorry. I would have been, but this flu or whatever is going around has knocked out half the staff and I got called to work last night. Then it was a zoo. We spent all night in the air.”

“Right, and we all know how much you hate flying around in that helicopter.” Honor wasn’t really angry, or even hurt, but it still bothered her a little bit that Linda had left the emergency room after years of being one of the senior charge nurses to join the medevac crew when the hospital had been approved as a flight base. She missed Linda. Not just her competence, but her friendship. Even though they lived right around the corner from each other, their schedules often didn’t match, and even when they did, Linda had a toddler of her own at home, which made impromptu socializing difficult.

“Well, the scenery is nice,” Linda said, grinning.

Honor groaned. “Do you still have the hots for that new pilot?”

“Only metaphorically. You know I’m completely faithful in mind and body.”

“I know you can’t walk past a good-looking butch without feeling a tingle.”

“Wait just a second.” Linda lifted her wrist and pretended to feel for her pulse. “Yep. Still got one, so I guess you’re right.”

“You are so full of it. So, are you still flying with her?”

“The mysterious, and yummy, Jett McNally?” Linda gave a satisfied smirk. “Not only am I still flying with her, I got her to eat pizza with the gang last night.”

“Why are you so bound and determined to get her to socialize?”

Linda suddenly looked serious. “She seems sad. I hate that.”

“I love you, you know that? But you can’t fix everyone.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Sometimes it’s just a matter of giving fate a helping hand.”

“Oh no.” Honor knew Linda’s penchant for matchmaking and thought ahead to the pre-playoff softball bash Linda and Robin always hosted. “Don’t tell me you invited her to the party?”

“I didn’t,” Linda said with a note of excitement. “But it’s a really good idea. After all, it worked with you and Quinn.”

“And just exactly who do you plan on fixing her up with?”

“I haven’t worked that out yet. Mandy?”

At the thought of the much younger, incredibly well-built, seductive blonde, Honor felt her temperature climbing. “If you bring her within five miles of my lover, there will be bloodshed.”

Linda laughed. “Like Quinn would even notice.”

“The problem is, Quinn doesn’t notice. Even when Mandy is practically molesting her. And God, she just won’t quit.”

“Well, it hasn’t even been two years. Obviously, Mandy is slow.”

“One thing she isn’t is slow,” Honor snarled.

“All right. Don’t get worked up. It’s not good for the baby when you’re breastfeeding.”

“That’s an old wives’ tale,” Honor muttered, fussing with her covers and feeling decidedly fat and frumpy all of a sudden. “And now with this damn incision, it’s going to take twice as long before we can have sex.”

Linda leaned over and whispered dramatically, “For you to have sex. Not for Quinn. Even right after the babies are born, Robin always manages to take care of m—”

“All right,” Honor interrupted sharply. “I get the picture.”

“You can’t really think Quinn minds?”

Honor glowered. “I mind. Do you have any idea what it’s like watching her walk around in the morning and not being able to do anything about it?”

“Oh God. I wish.” Linda patted Honor’s leg. “Let me go check with the nurses and see if it’s time for Jack’s feeding. I want to watch.”

“Pervert.” Honor relaxed as Linda started for the door. “You’re the best medicine I could possibly have, next to burning up the sheets with Quinn, that is.”

Linda turned from the door and waggled her eyebrows. “Always glad to take care of a woman in need.”

Chapter Five

“Here you go.” Tristan handed Jett a cup of coffee, set the coffee cake she’d nuked on a side table, and stretched out on a lounge chair next to the one Jett occupied on the small porch off her kitchen. The second-story porch overlooked a grassy backyard. A large old oak grew beside the house, its massive branches shading the area where they sat.

“Thanks.”

Tristan leaned her head back and sighed. The sky, visible through the canopy of green, was robin’s egg blue and crystal clear. In two hours, the day would have surrendered to the July heat, but right now, she felt the slightest hint of a breeze. She was almost too tired to think, and her mind wandered in the midst of her pleasant torpor. She remembered all those carefree, lazy summer days of her youth, when the greatest crisis in her life was whether a particular girl might be interested in her “that way.” Now, what seemed like a lifetime later, she lay next to a woman still wondering the same thing. All that had changed was her—she still asked the question, but somewhere along the way she’d stopped looking for anything beyond the simple answer. If it was yes, they’d share a few hours’ pleasure. If no, she’d move on. And right now she was too damn tired to wonder why that was.

She turned her head and regarded Jett’s face in profile. Her hair was a mix of dark blond verging on golden brown, but she bet when she was younger it was corn silk yellow. Up close she could make out the fine lines around her deep blue eyes. Those and her dark tan indicated a lot of time in the sun. “Where are you from?”

If the seeming non sequitur bothered Jett, she didn’t give any indication. She answered, “New York.”

“City?”

“State. Up near the Vermont border.”

“Farmers?”

Jett shook her head and sipped her coffee. “In a way. My family has an upland apple orchard. Been in the family for a couple of generations.”

“But you didn’t want to be a farmer?”