Call Sign Karma. Jamie Rae

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СКАЧАТЬ quietly and kept my head down. It was my plan—head down, mouth shut, and fly the damn jet. A hand tapped on the table in from of me. I glanced up to a familiar face.

      “Hey, Stitch,” I said with a genuine smile.

      His family was friends with ours and he was a few years older than me. He was Colin’s best friend.

      “Surprise!” he said and winked at me. “I got a last minute spot in the class. Maybe my dad can start talking to yours again.”

      “Yeah, well he wasn’t the only one pissed at my dad when I was selected. We all know he played a hand in the selection, if not, I’d be sitting pretty learning how to fly a Viper,” I said with a sigh.

      “You deserve to be here, Tink. Don’t ever doubt it.”

      I pressed my lips into a soft smile. “At least now our dads can go back to fighting over their golf games,” I said with a shrug trying to lighten the mood.

      Stitch chuckled and patted me on the arm before sitting down.

      I felt better knowing Stitch was here. At least there was one, maybe two people who weren’t going to hate me.

      The room was called to attention for the Wing Commander’s arrival. The sleeves of his flight suit were pushed past his elbows and his lips were drawn into a thin no-bullshit line. His long career to service with sacrifice were etched in the creases around his eyes and stamped in approval with three navy blue stars lined up across his shoulder.

      “At ease!” he shouted and my heart leapt when he smacked his hands together.

      I scanned the room as I sat. There were twelve of us and I couldn’t help but wonder who would be the first to go. I wanted to stand back up and volunteer, but I didn’t.

      I needed to clear Colin’s name.

      My father would lose his shit if he received the call that the entire fleet of F-35’s was grounded due to a faulty environmental system. The thought made me smile.

      “Am I amusing you, Lieutenant?”

      Shit. This was not the way to keep a low profile.

      “No, sir,” I answered and pressed my hands on the table in front of me.

      “Good, because there is nothing funny about any of this training you are beginning. You were each hand picked for a reason, don’t make us regret it.”

      “Yes, sir,” I answered, folding my hands into my lap. I watched as the moist outlines of fingers faded from the table.

      The room was called to attention again and as he left, the next commander came in to brief security. I wiped a drop of sweat from my brow. It was turning out to be a long morning. Learning about the base and safety briefs were as boring as watching the grass grow.

      Where were the jet systems and air space briefs? Something flying related. I hadn’t been paying much attention and I was thankful we only had one more set of academics before lunch.

      I twirled my pencil around on the desk and tried to keep from dozing off. My stomach growled desperately in need of food. My lack of sleep and too many beers was catching up with me. The pencil spun off the table and hit the floor. I bent down to pick it up when I noticed my boot string tied to the table. What were we in, kindergarten? Stupid fighter guys. They were all the same. I pulled on the lace, but it was knotted.

      The door opened and two sets of boots came into the room. One was the Director of Operations, Major Rex, or T-Rex. I recognized his voice without looking up. His scruffy tone was one that a person wouldn’t forget. I’d spoken to him on the phone during the selection process.

      I tugged on the knot, but it was too tight. I wiggled the tip of the pencil into the tangled mess. I didn’t want to cut the stupid lace. Freaking boys.

      “The Joint Strike Fighter will not only be flown by our guys, but some Allied Forces are joining the fight as well. Flight Lieutenant Sinclair has flown over five hundred hours in the Eurofighter and two hundred hours in the F-35. He has flown in combat with RAF Corningsby and has an extraordinary record with the Brits,” T-Rex said as I continued to work on freeing my damn boot. “We are fortunate to have him here and look forward to his expertise. Flight Lieutenant Sinclair. Call sign, Duke.”

      I tugged on my string almost freeing the knot so I could sit back up and see. I gave it another jerk.

      “Thank you Major Rex. It’s awesome to be here,” said a male voice laced with a British accent.

      A too familiar British accent. It couldn’t be the toe-curling, heart-flipping, cause-me-to-lose-all-good-sense, British freaking accent.

      My heart skipped a beat or twenty.

      “No,” I mouthed silently to myself as my eyes widened. It couldn’t be....

      I lifted my head up to see if my ears had deceived me, prepared to drop and army crawl the hell out of here.

      I sucked back a breath and instinctively jerked up. My head cracked on the bottom of the table. Shooting stars clouded my visions.

      “Holy shit,” I muttered and grabbed for my head.

      Through the haze, I could see well enough to recognize my perfect stranger standing in Flight Lieutenant Sinclair’s boots. All six-foot-two of him. Hot, gorgeous, and neatly packaged in a well-fitted flight suit.

      I needed to get out of here. Now. He was staring directly at me, ghastly white and shell-shocked. I knew the feeling.

      I gulped and jumped to my feet, forgetting that my foot was still tied to the table.

      “Shit!” I cursed and fell backwards.

      My head cracked against the ground. I lay flat on my back with my eyes closed, head pounding, foot tied to a desk and very vivid images of my instructor, naked in my bed. The calendar was right. It was doomsday.

      Chapter 5

      The only one laughing at my cringe attack was Karma.

      Stitch was by my side within seconds, grabbing my hand and looking me over. My boot tugged as a tearing sound ripped through the air. Damn. They cut the lace. With a fuzzy mind and throbbing head, I couldn’t help but regret that I didn’t cut it myself. Stupid.

      “Shit Tink, are you okay?” Stitch steadied me as I sat up.

      “Yeah, I’m fine.”

      Lie. Of. The. Century. I wanted to die, but first I wanted to kick someone’s ass.

      I threw a pissed off glance in the direction of Mojo then snuck a quick peek at the Brit instructor, still praying that it was all a mistake.

      Nope. He stood above me, looking the same, but so different. He had a bruise under his left eye—a stark remind of last night. The sexy smirk and quiet confidence were gone, replaced by thinly drawn lips and dark cold eyes.

      “Take her to Major Rex’s office,” Flight Lieutenant Sinclair commanded. He dropped his hands to his hips and sighed loudly without a glance in my СКАЧАТЬ