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offering to stay with me?" She knew full well he had to get back to the squadron. Already
    he would have to work late into the night to clear through all the work and crises that would have piled
    up while he was out of the office—
    Whoa. Stop.
    Why had she taken so much note of his work schedule when she'd been dating other guys? It had been
    bad enough before when she took note of everything about him, back when she'd thought he felt the
    same attraction.
    Carson swiped his sunglasses off and dried them on the leg of his flight suit. "I do have to get back to
    work, but I could pull together supper for you before I go. I haven't eaten today either, and I'm actually a
    competent cook."
    "I know."
    He stopped midswipe on a lens. "You do?"
    Oops. Might as well fess up. He probably knew anyway and pretending she hadn't once followed him
    around like a silly puppy would only hint she still had feelings. While she might still have feelings, they sure
    weren't the tender kind anymore. "I used to pay all sorts of attention to what you did back during my
    'crush' days."
    His smile pulled tight. With guilt? He hooked his glasses on the neck of his uniform again. "So let me
    cook for you then."
    Invite him into her apartment? Not a chance. "Thanks, but the drugs and the whole... every thing... are
    still making me nauseous."
    "Then I can sit and pass you crackers."
    Definitely guilt.
    She so didn't want him taking care of her out of obligation. "Thank you, but you have work. I have
    papers to grade and laundry to do. You've done enough already."
    Understatement of the year.
    She could see he wanted to argue.. .but his cell phone rang again. His forehead creased with frustration,
    his hand gravitating toward his phone even as he obviously battled the urge to ignore it.
    "You know you can't ignore the call. Take it. I'll be fine."
    And she would.
    If only his intense blue eyes didn't shout that he wasn't done with her yet.

Chapter 3
    He was done.
    Carson leaned against the quarter panel of his truck and stared past the pool up at Nikki's apartment.
    She was safely inside, thank God. He'd walked her to the door. She hadn't invited him in—no surprise—
    but he'd waited until she assured him the place was safe and empty.
    Now he could return to the pile of messages waiting for him at the squadron since he'd accomplished all
    he could from a cell phone for one day.
    So why was he hanging out in a half-empty apartment parking lot, rain drizzling until it dripped from his
    hair onto his forehead? If he loitered around, staring up at Nikki's image moving around inside for much
    longer, somebody would call the cops on his ass. If he didn't freeze to death first even though he had his
    leather jacket back. Damned if the thing didn't smell like her now, a light flowery perfume and something
    unmistakably her. And double damn, but why could he still recognize her scent even after seven months?
    He should just lose himself in work, order a deep-dish pizza and dig in for another 2:00 a.m. punch-out.
    Given the time change over in the Middle East, pulling a few extra hours at night worked well for
    speaking with the deployed squadron commander about routine business. Sure he could ask the new
    boss for advice on the whole mess, but the guy was swamped with duties overseas. Their old
    commander, Quade, had left two months ago and moved his family to the Pentagon for his next
    assignment, so he wasn't on hand to ask for advice, either.
    Mentors were in short supply to help him out with this one. He was on his own in a job he hadn't asked
    for, wasn't even sure he was ready for yet. But the position had come to him anyway and he refused to
    screw it up.
    The phone rang in his hand—again. He tucked the headset piece in his ear. "Major Hunt."
    "Captain Lebowski from scheduling." The Chicago area accent cut through the earpiece. "We've got a
    problem I know you're going to find hard to believe, but when Reach 2-1-3-1 landed in Hawaii, the
    plane