“I’m having a party at the house next Saturday night,” Linda said, “and I wanted to invite you before you made plans to take any extra shifts, Cap. You too, Dr. Holmes. Pretty much the whole neighborhood is coming. We hope Honor will be able to make it too.”

“That’s great,” Tristan said. “I’ll be there. And call me Tristan.”

When Jett said nothing, Linda added, “Most of the flight crew is coming. It’s casual. Some beer and burgers. That kind of thing.”

“If I don’t need to work, I’ll try to make it.” Jett glanced at Tristan. “I better get inside. Good night.”

“Hope it’s quiet,” Tristan called after her.

“We live around the corner from Quinn and Honor.” Linda gave Tristan the address. “I’m sorry we haven’t invited you over sooner. It’s been a little crazy with me switching from the ER to the medevac crew this spring.”

“That’s okay. I’m just getting settled myself.”

“You’re welcome to bring a date,” Linda said with a playful smile.

“Thanks.” Tristan eyed the stairwell where Jett had disappeared.

She’d been about to impetuously ask Jett out when Linda had interrupted her, but she wasn’t at all sure that was such a good idea. Jett really wasn’t her type, and it was never smart to change a winning game plan.

Evie or Darla would be a much better choice. “I just might do that.”

Chapter Seven

“Nice flying, Jett!” Linda held open the door to the stairwell as sheets of rain lashed the rooftop. “The ride was so smooth I wouldn’t have even known we were in the middle of a thunderstorm if it hadn’t been for the lightning.”

“Thanks.” Jett finger-combed the water from her hair as she and Linda started down the stairwell toward the crew quarters. The storm front had blown up out of nowhere while they were transporting a patient to the burn unit in Hershey, seventy miles away. The eleven year-old boy had been the sole survivor of a house fire that had claimed the rest of his family. The weather had been clear when they’d picked him up. Jett had put the helicopter down in the twisting two-lane road adjacent to the still-flaming house as fire rescue worked to quench the blaze and locate victims. Jett watched, feeling as if she’d viewed the scene a thousand times before, as first one body and then another had been brought from the smoldering structure. As each casualty emerged, draped in black plastic, she wondered if she would return to base with an empty aircraft. Already, the medical examiner’s van stood waiting with doors open twenty yards in front of her. Finally a shout went up and she could feel the excitement all the way into the cockpit. Someone had been found alive. Linda and Juan and the fire rescue personnel swarmed the stretcher, performed the initial resuscitation, and had the boy in the aircraft within minutes.

“Good save out there,” Jett said, pausing in the hallway outside the flight crew lounge.

Linda smiled wearily. “I hope so. He’s got a long road ahead of him.” She touched Jett’s bare arm. “He wouldn’t have had any chance at all if you hadn’t gotten us to Hershey. I was afraid for a few minutes there you were going to have to abort the flight.”

Jett shrugged. Flying in electrical storms was hazardous. A lightning strike would fry the radio at the very least, and worst-case scenario, the gears would mesh or the rotors debond and come apart.

She’d considered detouring to another hospital away from the storm path, but that would have delayed the boy’s essential care for too long.

Any hospital could handle most noncritical burns, but with the degree of injuries he had, even a few hours’ delay might have meant the onset of fatal respiratory or infectious complications. She’d seen enough burns to know. So she’d set a course around the worst of it and made it to the burn center. She’d pushed to the limits, but she’d still been in her safety zone. Other pilots might’ve felt differently, but other pilots hadn’t flown in the conditions she’d flown under every day for months.

“We’ve got the best aircraft going. It will take us through anything.”

Linda laughed. “I think it’s the pilot I trust the most.”

“Thanks,” Jett said again, drawing her arm away. Linda was a vibrant, sensual woman who touched easily, laughed easily, and exuded compassion. Jett knew there was nothing special about Linda’s attention, or even out of the ordinary, but she was in that place where the brush of a woman’s skin against hers could twist her insides until she couldn’t think.

“I’m going to make some fresh coffee.” Linda pushed the door to the lounge open and shot Jett a questioning look. “Coming in?”

“I was downwind most of the time out there, and the cockpit took a lot of smoke from the fire. I need to shower and change my clothes.”

“Mmm, me too.” Linda smiled. “Well, you know where it will be.”

Jett nodded and made her way to her room alone.

“The weapons fire was heavy out there tonight,” Gail said breathlessly. “They must have gotten a new shipment of ammunition from somewhere.”

Jett grimaced. “Kept our gunners busy.” She rolled her shoulders, trying to work loose some of the stiffness. She’d had a death grip on the stick, trying to maneuver her Black Hawk away from the small arms fire that hammered the air around her aircraft with lethal projectiles.

The dense black sky would have been beautiful, bursting with streaks of color, if every one of those pyrotechnic displays hadn’t been so deadly.

Since the insurgents rarely had sophisticated weaponry, they blanketed the sky with as much small arms fire as possible, hoping for a random hit. Her only choice was to fly as straight and fast as possible while hoping a round didn’t hit her fuel tank or her passengers. Or her.

“You’ve been flying for eight days straight in terrible conditions. You’ve got to be pretty beat up.”

“No more than usual,” Jett said.

“Come on, I’ve got just the thing.”

When Gail headed toward her tent, Jett hesitated. It was the middle of the night, and there wasn’t much activity in camp, so no one was likely to see them. Nevertheless, going into Gail’s tent made her uneasy. Gail was just being friendly, but Jett didn’t think spending time alone with her was a good idea. She’d been in the desert for months, and although she was certain she wasn’t the only lesbian, she restricted her sexual forays to when she was on leave. As time passed and her sense of futility and anger over the tragic waste of life escalated, her control wavered. She was edgy all the time, and nothing she managed on her own eased the relentless tension. She should go back to her own tent.

But she knew she wouldn’t sleep. A drink might help her relax, because that was surely what Gail was offering. One quick drink couldn’t hurt. She hurried to catch up. Gail’s rank afforded her semiprivate accommodations, and the other bunk in the sparse tent was empty. Gail lit a small battery-operated lamp and set it on the floor where it wouldn’t cast shadows for anyone passing by outside to see and gestured to one of the narrow beds.

“Take your shirt off and lie down.”

Jett’s whole body jerked as if she’d stepped on a high-voltage line.

Gail had already turned away and was rummaging in a locker. When she looked over her shoulder and saw Jett standing dumbfounded a few feet away, she smiled and held up a shampoo-sized bottle of gold liquid. It wasn’t booze.

“Go ahead. Strip and stretch out.” Gail unbuttoned her shirt and took it off, revealing a tight dark T-shirt underneath. Her breasts were larger than Jett had thought, broad full ovals underneath the thin cotton.

Jett needed to decide before her hesitation became awkward. Go or stay. Gail’s face was soft in the muted lamplight, her gaze welcoming.

The night was very dark and death was everywhere. Jett unbuttoned her shirt. Gail didn’t look away when Jett pulled off her T-shirt, baring herself to the waist. Her nipples tightened and she turned to the bunk, hoping to hide them. She lay face down and put her head on her arms.

The springs gave slightly as Gail sat next to her, her hip pressed to Jett’s.

“I’m sorry it’s not warm,” Gail murmured, bracing herself with one hand on Jett’s left shoulder.

When a stream of thick liquid coursed down the center of Jett’s back, she stiffened. Then Gail’s hands were on her, spreading oil from the base of her neck to the hollow above her buttocks. In her mind’s eye, she saw Gail leaning over her, and the press of Gail’s hands transformed into a caress. The muscles in her ass clenched as her clitoris swelled and she fought not to gasp.

“Your shoulders are so tight.” Gail brushed the hair away from the back of Jett’s neck and leaned closer, working her fingers into the knots along Jett’s spine. Her stomach pressed against Jett’s back and Jett groaned before she could stop herself. “Too hard?”

“No,” Jett rasped. “It’s fine. Good. But you must be tired. You don’t have to—”

“I want to. It relaxes me.”

Gail swept her hands up and down Jett’s back, heating her skin, inflaming her deep inside. When Gail’s fingers skimmed the outside of her breasts, Jett unconsciously tilted her pelvis into the hard mattress, as if it were a lover.

“Unbuckle your pants so I can pull them down,” Gail said.

Jett murmured a protest and tried to turn over, but Gail stopped her with a hand between her shoulder blades.

“Go ahead. I want to get to your lower back. You’ve got to be sore, strapped in that cockpit for hours.”

Jett knew she should stop what was happening, but she didn’t. She didn’t want Gail to stop either. She wanted Gail to keep touching her.

She wanted the heat of Gail’s body close to hers and the soft sigh of Gail’s exhalation teasing over her skin. She wanted her clitoris to twitch and pulse to the rhythm of Gail’s fingers until it exploded. She reached under her hips with one hand, unbuckled her belt, opened her fly, and tugged down her zipper. For one insane second she contemplated pushing her hand inside her fatigues and stroking herself. She knew even without checking that she was swollen and wet and fully aroused.