Sweet Montana Christmas (10 page)

“So you're going to stay.”

“I'm hoping to. How about you?”

“A small-town airport was never in my plan. I wanted to work in one of the big-city airports, move into a position of leadership.”

“Why are you here, then?”

“Had a temporary setback. As soon as I put in a few years in Missoula, redeem myself, I plan to move on.”

Guess it was going to be just friends after all. Maybe a few benefits before they were through.

That was fine. She didn't want any more than that right now with the business and everything.

Who was she kidding?

The smile on Sue Anne's face lost a little of its luster.

Zach put the car in gear and continued down the road. Telling her about his plans had obviously been the wrong thing to do.

Women. They were as tangled as an airplane's wiring system appeared to be. He'd been enjoying his time with Sue Anne, even relaxing a little, and now there was all this tension to deal with.

But he'd had to tell her. Otherwise, she'd think there was more here than there was.

“How about lunch in Stevi?” he asked, using the locals' nickname for the town.

“What about Sugar?”

He'd forgotten about the dog. After their brief walk, she had fallen asleep on the back seat, apparently tuckered out.

“Can she stay in the car?” he asked. “We won't be long. Half hour at most, I think.”

Her frown deepened, but then she nodded. “The sun's warming up the car. If we leave a few windows cracked, it should be okay.”

“Good. Let's see what there is.”

Other than a brewpub and a small family restaurant, few places were open. In fact, most of the other businesses were closed as well, just like downtown Missoula. Montanans took their Sundays seriously.

Sue Anne opted for the family restaurant.

A waitress with a black apron and practical shoes seated them at a booth. After a friendly greeting, she listed the special, some type of egg dish, dropped the menus, and attended another customer.

He looked at the menu, surreptitiously studying Sue Anne as well. He didn't want to upset her, but the truth was the truth. His plans didn't include a long-time stay in a small city. He'd like to get back to a large Midwestern airport—maybe Dallas. But he'd take whatever came along to further his career.

She was from Texas. Maybe she'd be willing to sell her business and move again, like Pat's girlfriend had.

He relaxed. There. That wasn't too complicated. They could find a compromise if something really developed between them.

“What do you want?” he asked with a smile. “My treat.”

“Oh. You don't have to do that.”

“I insist. My mother wouldn't have it any other way.” He grinned at her. “I'm thinking about steak and eggs.”

“Men and meat.” She scrunched up her face. “You know that's a heart attack on a plate. You'll need lots of dark chocolate to counteract that cholesterol.”

“I'll suffer through it.”

“I'd like a veggie omelet. Healthier.”

“Barely.”

“I'll take what I can get.”

“What'll it be?” The waitress noted down their orders and hustled back to the kitchen to turn them in.

“Tell me about working at the airport. What do you do?” Sue Anne smiled at him.

“It's mostly routine—patrols, that kind of thing. In fact, a dull day is a good day. Lots of polishing, training, drills.”

“What's the last big thing that happened?”

He debated telling her about the aircraft that slid sideways on landing the previous week. The Cessna had managed to skid to a stop before anything bad had happened. He hated telling people about aircraft problems, though. It scared them from flying.

Instead, he chose something that was more palatable for most people.

“A woman rolled her car outside the airport a few weeks ago. That was pretty serious.” He played down his role in describing the incident.

“Is she all right?”

“We got word that there were no internal injuries, and she's made a full recovery.”

“That must be a relief.”

He nodded. There were always those who didn't make it, but fortunately, his acquaintance with death had been infrequent.

“I can't imagine having a job like that. There's so much you need to know. Did you go to college?”

There was real interest in her face.

“It sure felt like it, but no. Police academy, EMT basic school, basic firefighting, and airfield safety.” He ticked the courses off on his fingers. “Then we have to get additional certifications every year. Most of it's online, but there are advanced courses off site, too. You usually have to be selected for those.”

He'd wanted to get to the advanced firefighter course in Dallas for years, but unless he made inroads in Missoula soon, that wasn't going to happen.

“Sounds like you want to go to one.” Her smile was warm with curiosity.

She was so responsive, so attentive to the conversation that he let down his guard a little.

“You bet.”

“Any chance of doing it?” She took a bite of her omelet. “Ummm. This is s-o-o good. Must be the chill in the air.”

“Probably,” he agreed. He concentrated on cutting his steak. They needed to get off this topic of conversation before she repeated her question. Fortunately, she seemed engrossed in her food.

She was damned attractive. He inspected her features again, avoiding those kissable lips and the curly hair that invited mussing.

What would she look like with after-sex hair? Would her eyes get all post orgasm smoky?

Stop it, Crippin.

“So how are sales going at the shop?” He had to restart the conversation, or he'd spend the rest of the meal mentally undressing her. Why did she always make his thought process take a rapid left turn toward his basic animal instincts?

Sue Anne seemed oblivious to his desires. She put down her fork and used her hands to emphasize her words. Her animation increased, and he could tell her interior vision was focused on her store.

“Friday and Saturday were great, but I figure it will slow down for a while until the weather warms up. I'm planning on getting a freezer case and offering ice cream. What do you think?”

“The Big Dipper is close, and a lot of people would choose that, wouldn't they?”

“Hmm.” She pursed her lips. “They're selling their ice cream in containers these days. If I just stock their flavors, that will make it local without being in competition, won't it? Thanks for the idea.”

She picked up her fork and pointed it at him. “About this job you have, where you get to be firefighter, policeman, and medic all rolled into one.”

“Don't forget airport safety expert.”

She dismissed that by waving her fork through the air. “Too dull. I'm more worried about the other ones.”

“How's that?” Where was she going with this?

“Are you an adrenaline junkie? I mean, you already like lima beans.” She shivered. “I don't think I could hang out with an adrenaline junkie. I'd be worried all the time. I like staying
in
the airplane, not leaping from it.”

Her mind did have a bizarre streak. Who else would have connected lima beans and parachuting?

How to answer the question?

“I'm not into extreme sports, if that's what you're asking.”

The fork dropped a little.

“The rush from the job ... is...” He'd never tried to explain why he liked the drama of the airport security team to anyone. “It's because I know I can do something to make a difference. It's not making danger where there isn't any. I like knowing the people who are traveling are a little safer because I'm there.”

The fork went back on the table, and she reached across to grasp his hand, looking him full in the eyes. They gazed at each other, the first inkling of knowing crackling between them.

“I like that about you,” she said. “In fact, I just plain like you.”

• • •

Zach's stare was too intense, too intimate. Sue Anne released his hand and looked around frantically for the waitress. She needed more coffee, didn't she?

The practically shod waitress shot over to find out what was on her mind.

“Coffee?” Sue Anne asked.

The waitress looked at the cup. “I don't think there's any room.”

The liquid was next to the brim.

She took a quick glance at Zach's coffee.

Halfway.

“I meant his cup.” Nervous giggle. “Yeah. He needs more coffee.”

The waitress raised her finely penciled eyebrows.

“Sure.” She splashed the dark liquid into the cup, expertly turned on her toe, and walked to another table.

Toying with her egg, Sue Anne tried to think of something neutral to say, something that wouldn't make her sound like an idiot.

“Have you ever been married?”
Shit.
That wasn't what she meant to say at all.

“No. Not exactly.”

“I didn't think you could have a not-exactly marriage.”

“I was almost engaged.”

Whatever intimacy they'd started developing fell into a black pit with this line of questioning. She didn't know whether to be relieved or annoyed. How could anyone think “almost engaged” equaled “not exactly married”? Maybe this would be a first
and
last date.

Oh, yeah. Not a date.

“And?” she prompted.

He put down his utensils and frowned at her, his mouth working in a way that let her know he was deciding how much to tell her.

“For the record,” she said. “I've never been married
or
almost engaged, much to my mother's disappointment. Of course, that means at least I've never been engaged to the wrong type of man for her, either.”

The lines in his forehead eased.

“What is the wrong type of man for your mother?”

“Someone she hasn't picked out.”

“Ahh.”

She let the silence sit for a few moments while she debated asking him again about previous relationships. She should probably let it go; after all, she wasn't interested in anything permanent.

Then why was she so upset that he wasn't planning on staying in Missoula?

“It was in Denver,” he said. “I went out with a nurse there. She seemed perfect—same values I have, a lot of the same interests. I knew she wanted to be a stay-at-home mom someday, and that suited me.”

He cut up the remaining piece of his steak and pushed it around his plate.

She forced herself to remain silent. What he wanted ... a woman devoted only to her kids ... that would never be her. Friendship was a better choice.

Why was the air in the restaurant so thin?

“Are you ready for more coffee?” The waitress interrupted the moment.

Sue Anne looked at her cup.

Still full.

“I'm fine,” she said, her voice barely audible.

The waitress turned a beaming grin toward Zach.

“Me, too. Can you bring us the check?” He smiled at the older woman.

It was a great smile—it gave him that wholesome look. She glanced at the waitress, who was eating up the attention.

“Sure thing.” The waitress moved to the next booth to offer coffee.

“Good food,” Zach said. “How was your omelet?”

The moment was gone.

“Fine,” she said and gathered her things.

During the ride back to Missoula, he stuck to neutral topics—the possibility of climate change, the upcoming election, and economics.

Well, maybe not so neutral, but definitely not personal. His views were similar to hers on climate change (it existed) and opposite in terms of political parties (a Republican to her Democrat leanings).

They were equally confused by economics.

“Well, that was fun,” he said when he pulled up in front of her place. “We should do it again sometime.”

The tone in his voice was too flat. He didn't really mean it.

“Sure.” She tested his resolve. “Want to come in for a moment?”

“Sorry. I have a bunch of things to do before work starts up again on Monday. I've got day shift this week. Those ten-hour days don't leave time to get much else done. I'll walk you to the door, though.”

“You don't have to.”

“My mother...”

“... would have your head.” She smiled at him. He really did have a sweet, gentlemanly side. “C'mon, Sugar.”

She carried the little dog as they walked around the side of the store to her back door. He took her keys as she fumbled to extract one with one hand.

“Let me.” He unlocked and opened the door.

She set Sugar down, the dog trotted inside, then stopped as if asking why Sue Anne wasn't following.

“In a minute.” She turned back to Zach. “Thank you for a lovely day and for lunch. It was nice to get to know you better.” She kept her tone deliberately neutral. “Don't forget to stop by when your shift is over next week. Now that the rush is over, we'll be experimenting with new flavors, especially berries. We need our taste tester.”

It didn't matter that she was trying to keep their parting light and friendly. He didn't take his gaze from her lips as she spoke.

He's going to do it again.

She should say something. Something like “no.”

Instead, she tilted her face up, a silent assent.

He took her face in his hands before he thoroughly ravaged her lips.

She met his passion, hungry for more. Heat flew up and down her skin and radiated inward, sending her girly bits aflame. It was a match to dry kindling.

Her hands developed a mind of their own. They strayed from a perfectly respectable restraint on his arms to an exploration of his back, difficult to do through his down jacket. They dipped down and snuck under the garment to touch the hard muscles of his back.