Sparks - Wendy Higgins Page 0,6

beer and bags of snacks. Cheers broke out, and it was good that the clerk on duty was high, because things were probably going to get rowdy. It made me smile.

“Let’s put our stuff away and come back down,” I said while we climbed into the tight elevator.

“You know I can’t.” Silas was on his phone, typing with one thumb.

“Oh, come on,” I said. “There’s no way we’re flying out in the morning. Don’t make me come down here alone.” Silas was a notorious slam-clicker: a crew member who shut themselves into their room at arrival and rarely socialized.

His mouth pulled to the side as he looked at me and I knew he felt bad. “Maybe after I say goodnight to Jacquie.” Yeah, right.

I sighed. His wife was the jealous type, and although Silas was a super handsome flirt, I’d never seen him once cross the line into inappropriateness. He’d be a fool to cheat anyway; his wife was firecracker hot. She was one of those bikini competitors with lean muscle, perfect boobs, and practically zero body fat. Throw in a gorgeous Latina face and long black hair for the full effect, and wow. They lived in Southern California. He worked three-days one week and four days the next, flying home for three to four days each week. And he never, ever, ever went out with us.

Silas followed me to my room. It was sort of an unspoken rule that the pilot or copilot escorted the flight attendants to their room and checked it out for them. Slightly old-fashioned, maybe, but it was a comforting part of the routine. Silas and I went through the bathroom, closets, and peeked behind curtains, checking to make sure no psychos were in hiding.

“All clear,” he said, giving me a salute and heading out.

“Night,” I told him. “Thanks.”

Before I could lose my nerve, I changed into my casual clothes and headed back downstairs. I would just pretend to use the snack machine and check out the shenanigans. When the elevator opened I heard music and raucous laughter. I walked down the hall and when I turned into the seating area, cheers rang out, stopping me dead in my tracks.

Holy shit. All of the Marines were there, looking at me, and cheering for me. I covered my mouth against a shocked laugh, and Jerome made his way to my side.

“Want a beer, ma’am? Or we have vodka and rum?”

Drinks were held out to me from all directions, and I pointed to the vodka. “Thanks.”

I guess I was staying. I took the cup with a smile and the guys cheered, yet again, when I sipped the drink, making me laugh. I noticed a blue tooth speaker on a table in the middle, thumping hard. I needed to find out what brand that was because it was loud and had amazing bass.

While everyone chatted, asking me questions, my eyes shifted coolly around the room until I spotted the officer, Captain Fowler, sitting back in a corner chair, watching me. He raised his little plastic cup when our eyes met, and I fought the urge to press a hand to my jumping stomach. I raised my cup to him, too, then tried to give the guys talking to me my attention, but it was no use. At the first lull in conversation, I slipped over and sat beside him, pulling my legs up into the chair to get comfortable.

“Hi,” I said, because I’m smooth like that.

“What’s up?” He spoke with a little bit of a laugh, clearly amused at this whole situation.

“So, you’re okay with all this?” I waved a hand at the massive hotel party and he shrugged.

“They need it. We’re just coming back from overseas. They don’t get much down time.”

Overseas. That meant war zone. I chewed my lip and looked around at the laughing faces, feeling a flare of dread at the knowledge that people in this room had put themselves in harm’s way, and would do it again.

“Don’t worry,” he said, apparently reading my face. “It’s not our first rodeo.”

“You go out a lot?”

He gave a nod, watching a group that had started playing poker at a nearby table. “Twice so far. I’ve got a fucked up elbow from when we had to drop for cover, getting shot at.” I gave a small gasp and he held out his arm to show me. “Can’t straighten it all the way.” Then he shrugged and took another drink. “Not even middle-aged and already broken.” He said