Eric Jansen—call sign Thor—loves nothing more than pushing his F-16 to the limit. Returning home to South Carolina after a tragic loss, he hopes to fix the mistake he made long ago, when he chose the Air Force over his fiancée.
Becca Madison isn’t quick to welcome Thor back. She can’t forget how he shattered her heart. But Thor won’t give up once he’s set his sights on what he wants—and he wants Becca.
Thor shows Becca that he’s no longer the impulsive boy he used to be, and Becca finds herself irresistibly drawn to him. But will Thor be able to walk away from his dream of flying the F-16 for their love or does his heart belong to the sky?
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I walked into Liberty, my gaze
peeled on the crowd, searching for Becca.
Easy had texted me two hours ago
and mentioned that she was here, and I’d gone back and forth over whether I
should come out at all. It hadn’t escaped my notice that she’d pretty much been
avoiding me all week, whatever truce we’d reached in the cemetery on Wednesday
apparently forgotten, and while part of me knew I should give her the space she
needed, another part of me was afraid that she would use the space to keep a
wedge between us.
I couldn’t apologize, couldn’t
grovel at her feet, if she wouldn’t forgive me. And right now, she was a locked
door I couldn’t break through. I’d thought I stood a chance, thought that the
fact that she still talked to me like I meant something to her, like we were
friends, meant we had a shot. But now it felt like that had just been wishful
thinking, and I really had blown it with her.
So this was it. My Hail Mary,
Hallelujah, final attempt at getting her to let me in. I’d caused her enough
pain over the years; I didn’t want to keep doing it. If she truly wanted me out
of her life, then I’d give her that.
I spotted Easy first, his arm
wrapped around the same girl he’d been with the first night—a girl with hair
eerily similar to Dani’s. Easy saw me across the crowd and waved me over, the
girl—Rachel or something—tensing immediately at the sight of me and answering
the question of whether she knew who I was to Becca.
I cut through the crowd, still
searching for her, nerves rolling around in my stomach.
Easy jerked his head in
greeting. “Hey, man.”
Rachel looked ready to bolt and
warn Becca I was here.
“Hey, how’s it going?” I asked,
glancing over his shoulder, trying to make out Becca’s features in the sea of
people. Liberty was packed tonight.
His lips curved. “She’s by the
bar with Bandit.”
Shit.
I didn’t know Bandit that well,
but we’d been out together before, and if he was with Becca, it definitely
wasn’t because he wanted to be friends.
Easy shot me a pointed look that
irked the shit out of me. “Can you blame the guy?”
Fuck.
My gaze drifted to the bar, and
then I froze.
Becca stood in a corner, the
lights shining down on her like a fucking halo, the skirt of her dress brushing
against Bandit.
She looked so beautiful that I
felt it like a pang in my chest, the smile on her face one I’d seen so many
times before, aimed at me. The one I’d lost. Thrown away. She looked like she
was having fun, and then Bandit leaned in closer and said something that made
her laugh, and her whole face transformed, her shoulders shaking, eyes
sparkling.
I held my breath as her gaze
drifted through the crowd; my heart hammered, waiting for the
moment . . .
Our gazes locked, her body
stiffening, the smile sliding off her face.
It knocked me back like a blow.
I’d envisioned finding a way to
talk to her tonight, maybe dance with her, flirt with her; I hadn’t envisioned
standing here with my heart in my hand, watching her flirt with Bandit of all
fucking people, as what little hope I’d clung to died a bit inside.
I waited to see if she’d
acknowledge me somehow, the plea that she’d throw me one of her
smiles—something, anything—battering me inside. A wave, even. Just some sign
that she saw me, that she still cared, that there might
be a chance for us to put the past between us.
I’d missed her this week, missed
seeing her face, hearing her laugh. We’d been apart for a decade, and somehow
the glimpses I’d had of her had made everything harder, bringing back all those
feelings we’d had for each other with a sharpness that pierced me.
Look at me.
Please. Forgive me. Let me in.
I stood there like an idiot, the
sound of Easy saying my name over and over again drowned out by the bar noise
and the pounding of my heart.
And then she did turn, shifting
her body away from me, tilting her face up to Bandit, her lips curving in a
smile I knew all too well.
About the Author
Originally a
Florida girl, CHANEL CLEETON moved to London where she received a bachelor’s
degree from Richmond, The American International University in London and
a master’s degree from the London School of Economics and Political Science. Chanel
fell in love with London and planned to stay there forever, until fate
intervened on a Caribbean cruise and a fighter pilot with smooth dance moves
swept her off her feet. Now, a happily ever after later, Chanel is living her
next adventure.
Law school made
Chanel realize she’d rather spend her days writing sexy stories than in a
courtroom, and she hasn’t looked back since. An avid reader and hopeless
romantic, she’s happiest curled up with a book. She has a weakness for
handbags, her three pups, and her husband.
Chanel writes contemporary
romances, women's fiction, and thrillers. She is published by Harlequin
HQN, Penguin/InterMix, and Penguin/Berkley and is the author of the
International School, Capital Confessions, Assassins, and Wild Aces series.
Website: www.chanelcleeton.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorchanelcleeton
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