Hover Read Online Free PDF Page B

that without you.”
    â€œShit, that was all you, ma’am. But we do make a good team, don’t we?” He flashes his crooked smile.
    Messy runs toward us, breathing hard. “Hey, ma’am. Doin’ okay?”
    I nod.
    â€œKyle, I need you back at the bird,” he says. “Commander Claggett’s recovered, and fuck, is he wound up!”
    Lego looks to Lieutenant Marxen, who answers his unspoken request. “I’ll stay with her,” he says.
    With a gentle squeeze on my shoulder, Lego stands and sprints off with Messy.
    The flight deck remains in a state of chaos, people running to and from the bird, the ship pitching and rocking to scary degrees I’ve never experienced before, seawater and salt spray showering us from the edge of the railing. Surely they can’t leave the weather decks open much longer.
    I turn to Lieutenant Marxen as the coughs begin to subside, embarrassed by the tone of voice I just used with him. It’s not his fault you were shaking .
    â€œThanks, for just … for sitting here with me,” I say. “I’m feeling better now.”
    â€œYou’re welcome.” His eyes remain on mine. So steady. I blink and look again. Strong eyes. What a strange thought.
    â€œEric Marxen.” He holds out his hand and I take it.
    â€œSara Denning.”
    He releases my hand, but not his gaze. As his eyes move across my face, I have the strangest sense that something’s not right.
    â€œWhat is it?” I ask.
    â€œYou’re, uh … you’re not what I expected.”
    â€œExpected? What do you mean?”
    He studies me in a bubble of drawn-out silence, oblivious to the frenetic activity surrounding us. His olive-green eyes move quickly, purposefully, sharp like a hawk’s. Light brown hair worn in typical military fashion, close cropped, but slightly longer on top, frames an angular face. Several inches taller than I, he has broad shoulders and a lean build, and I have to admit, he’s strikingly handsome. And this throws me. I make it a point not to notice the looks of the officers I work with and it usually doesn’t take much effort. But I have indeed noticed Eric’s, so much so that it’s hard not to return his stare.
    â€œIt’s nothing,” he says finally. “Never mind.”
    I don’t dwell on the comment, because my attention has been drawn to my hand, the one I hold in front of me, trembling. I make a fist and tuck it into my lap, disgusted by what I’m seeing.
    â€œYou know, most of us mere mortals would have been shaking during the emergency itself and probably botched the landing,” he says. “But you held it together when it counted. That’s the definition of a pressure player.”
    I wish I felt that way.
    â€œYou certainly know how to make an entrance!” The man who approaches wears a flight suit, lieutenant commander insignia, and an easy smile. His dark brown skin is slightly lined, his black hair sprinkled with a touch of gray. He holds out his hand. “Brian Wilcox.”
    â€œSara Denning, sir.” I shout to be heard over the wind.
    â€œBrian is our officer in charge,” Eric says.
    â€œNice to meet you, sir.”
    â€œNice to meet you, too. And it’s just Brian.”
    I’ve known Brian for exactly two seconds and I instantly like him. Far more relaxed and easygoing than Commander Claggett.
    Brian waves over the rest of the Shadow Hunter pilots, and as they encircle us, Eric makes quick introductions. “This is Rob LeGrand,” he says, motioning to the pilot standing next to Brian.
    â€œHey, Sara,” he says, ducking to avoid a shower of seawater.
    â€œAnd Ken Watkins, Ben Holcomb, and finally, Stuart Grady,” Eric says, pointing to each. “So get this, did you know that Sara was the one flying just now?”
    â€œYeah, we found out from the crewmen,” Brian says. “All I can say is wow