Red Tail. Lindsay McKenna

gave her a guarded look, continuing to eat. “I think that’s fair. After all, we’re going to be working together for at least a year.”

      “Don’t remind me.”

      Bram grinned, knowing she didn’t mean it. He saw the confusion and fear in her eyes and suddenly realized that something must have occurred in her personal life to make her so wary. “Okay,” he said, easing up on her, “I’ll can my twenty questions. Just answer two for me, will you?”

      “Two?”

      He held up two fingers. “Yeah, two.”

      She frowned. “I can count, Gallagher, and you don’t need to hold up your fingers so everybody can see you.”

      So, that was it. Bram looked around, noticing a couple of the pilots and watching them with great interest. His face softened and he dropped his hand. “Looks like there’s more than a little interest in you and me by your protective friends.”

      Uncomfortable and yet relieved that he understood, Storm blotted her lips with the napkin. He wasn’t as insensitive as she had first thought. “They’re worse than women when it comes to me,” she admitted unhappily. Kyle Armstrong would tease her mercilessly tonight when they all got together at the Q or alert quarters.

      He laughed softly, shaking his head. “What is this, reverse discrimination? Men being protective about you and on guard toward me?”

      Storm shrugged. She didn’t want to tell him that Armstrong and the rest of the guys wanted to see her married again. They were forever trying to fix her up with some eligible bachelor. Their hearts were in the right place, but it was embarrassing. “They mean well,” she told him. “They’re like brothers, you know? Sometimes they get in your hair and become an irritation.”

      Bram nodded. That was good to know—she treated them like brothers, not lovers. “Well,” he informed her softly, his voice a vibrating growl, “don’t even begin to look at or treat me like a brother, lieutenant.”

      She toyed with the salad, her pulse skyrocketing. “Don’t worry, Gallagher, I’ll never make that mistake with you.”

      His mouth drew into a grin. “Good. I’m glad we finally agree on something.”

      Storm gave him a warning glare. “I agree with you on very little, Gallagher.”

      “That’ll change,” he informed her darkly.

      “I doubt it.”

      * * *

      Storm didn’t want to go inside the Q, which stood outside the ramp and hangar area. Four days had flown by and they were on alert again. It was almost 2100 when she walked outside, heading toward the quiet ramp where the readied helos and Falcon jets sat waiting for the next SAR call. Hands thrust deep in her pockets, she watched the apricot color of the sunset deepening. The colors were spectacular; she had come to love dusk in Florida. Tonight there were a few threatening clouds, mostly towering cumuli, rising like castle turrets in the distance. That meant a few isolated thunderstorms later over the ocean. Bowing her head, she walked slowly along the ramp area, away from the hangar, lost in the world of changing colors that painted the sky. It was lovely, and finally she halted, lost in the display.

      “Beautiful, isn’t it?” came Bram’s voice from behind her.

      She turned her head slightly, watching him quietly walk up to her shoulder and halt. The peacefulness of the sunset muted all her suspicions as she saw awe written across his features. He was just as moved as she was. A small smile curved her lips.

      “This is my favorite time of day,” she confided softly, returning her attention to the sky.

      “Mine too. That and dawn. I like to see the colors on the horizon. Best time to fly.”

      She felt totally at ease with Bram. Four days had worked miracles in dispelling their initial distrust of each other. There was a tender look in his eyes right now. Storm liked the feeling swirling and building quietly between them, a sharing of something far greater than themselves. The apricot hue deepened to an incredible orange that grew paler as it reached toward the darkening cobalt sky.

      Bram glanced down at Storm. Her profile was clean, and her skin had a glow to it. There was a faraway look on her face now, and he longed to reach out and touch her. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes wide, as she continued to watch the spectacle. They stood in silence another ten minutes before he spoke.

      “I’ve been trying to find some time today to talk with you alone, Storm,” he said, turning toward her.

      Her heart catapulted as he called her by her first name. It rolled off his tongue like a caress, and she responded effortlessly to the tone in his voice. But she also heard the seriousness of it and faced him, a mere twelve inches separating them. Looking guilelessly up into his features, she searched his darkened blue eyes.

      “About what?”

      “You don’t play games, do you?”

      Her brows drew downward. “Games? No. Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

      He shook his head. “No.” He scratched his head furtively, looking toward the sunset again. “I’m having one hell of a time relating to you, Storm. You’re not like the women I know. Or have known. They’re into their cute, coy games. They don’t come out and say what they really feel.” He gave her a rueful smile. “You come off differently.”

      Storm felt defensive about his assessment, crossing her arms. “That doesn’t make me any less a woman, you know.”

      He raised his eyes. “I didn’t mean it that way. No, you’re a woman in or out of a flight suit; believe me,” he said fervently. Then he grinned. “The touch you have with a helo is a woman’s touch, not a man’s.”

      “Flying is a matter of finesse and sensitivity, not brute strength,” she reminded him.

      He held up his hands. “I agree. Listen, we’re getting off track, Storm. I need to say something to you,”

      She licked her lips, preparing for the worst. “Okay. I always want honesty between us, Gallagher. Even if it hurts, I want the truth.”

      Placing his hands on his hips, he looked down at the concrete between them for a long moment. Finally he raised his head, an undecipherable expression in his eyes as he met her gaze. “First, I owe you a genuine apology for the way I behaved that first afternoon we pulled alert. I don’t normally go around accusing women of going to bed with men.” He grimaced, finding it hard to put the rest of it into words because of the avalanche of emotion boiling up within him. “Last Friday, before I left Mobile, Alabama, to move down here, I got my finalized divorce papers.” He lowered his gaze, pursing his lips. “A two-day drive down here plus the bitterness of the divorce has made me a little sour on women. And when I met you Sunday and realized it was going to be a woman breaking me into SAR, I damn near came unglued.” His blue eyes grew softer as he searched her stunned features. “I was angry at my ex-wife, and I lashed out at you instead, Storm. You represented all women to me in that moment and how much they can hurt a man.”

      Storm cleared her throat, unable to maintain his gaze. “I see…” she whispered. Tears came to her eyes, and it surprised her. Why tears? Her heart contracted with pain for him. “Under the circumstances, I guess I can’t blame you for your actions, Bram. I probably would have done something quite similar.”

      A slight smile edged his sensual mouth. “I’m finding out all kinds of good things about you, Storm Travis. You stand up for what you believe in, but you’re equally forgiving of others’ mistakes. That’s a nice attribute.”

      She shivered inwardly as his voice soothed her. Tears stung her eyes and she turned away from him. Was she going to cry? My God! “In the past year, I’ve found out just how human I am,” she admitted rawly. Rubbing her brow, she managed a small broken laugh. “Just one thing…”

      Bram cocked his head, watching her profile