Wingman Warriors - Joint Forces Part 32

"Yeah, I hear you." Understatement. It had taken them nearly four months, but finally, they'd completed their mission.

J.T.

drew in a little more of that magnolia-scented air to ground himself in home.

Home.

It was time to return.

Bo pushed away from the post. "Well, man, I should hit the road. I'm betting I can milk this for a little

TLC from someone of the female persuasion. What do you think?"

J.T.

thumped the young officer on the back on their way down the flagstone path. "I'm thinking that youbetter stay the h.e.l.l away from my daughter, sir, or I'll tell people your real name.""Yeah, yeah, I know." Bo swung up into the front seat. "No crewdogs for your little girl."

"No players."

"A player? Who me?" Winking, he cranked the Jeep. "Catch ya' later, dude. I'm off to romance my lady friend."

Bo revved the engine, shifting into reverse and roaring out of the driveway into the night.

Romance. Chuckling, J.T. shook his head. He and Rena had pretty much skimmed over that part, jumping from shared hamburgers to a shared kid, family, apartment, day-to-day get moving with life.

More lights along the rows of houses switched off, reminding him of his explanation to Rena about his

work/life switch, his inability to blend the two worlds.

Had he somehow segmented his relationship with Rena, as well? Dating, one switch. Flick the switch to husband, another mind-set, being a provider like his father.

Recreation had never played a big role in his life. He'd found a job he enjoyed, productive hobbies like

rebuilding his house or his car. And for smiles? Light? He had Rena.

But what had he given her for light in return?

Well, h.e.l.l. He stared down the empty road. A few weeks ago he'd been beating his head against the wall

at the prospect of entering the "dating" world again. But now, the idea sent one h.e.l.luva thrill through him

-when the right woman was involved.

The romance gig wasn't a c.r.a.pshoot, after all. As much as he wanted to present Rena with diamonds and fancy vacations, the incredible woman he loved enjoyed circus peanuts, too.

He wasn't giving up on draping her in a diamond or two someday. But he'd finally learned he could also drape her in plenty of romance now.

J.T. fished into his back pocket for his cell phone. After twenty-two years, it was about time he asked his wife for a date.

Rena rapped two knuckles against her son's open bedroom door.

"Yeah?" Chris called from his bed, pitching a magazine to a floor already covered in clothes, a towel and

schoolbooks.

Her heart rate still thumped an extra couple of beats every time she remembered how close she'd come to losing J.T. and Chris today.

Rena tiptoed over a discarded backpack on her way to her son's bedside. "Are you okay, hon?"

"Still a little wigged out, but it'll be better in the morning. Just need to sleep. Maybe swim some laps tomorrow. Get my head together."

She perched on the edge of his bedside table. "Swimming laps is a good way to relax."

"Yeah. Gotta work out the stress somehow." He crooked both arms behind his head. "Dad's probably

down in his office veging with the Bard."

"Excuse me?"

"You know. How he always reads Shakespeare and junk like that to chill."

But she didn't know.

How could she have missed that about her husband? A sad commentary on how little she and J.T. had

communicated over the years. She would have cried her eyes out over the discovery a couple of days ago. Now it only fueled her resolve to learn more about this fascinating man she'd married. And along the way let him learn some more about her, as well.

"'Night, hon." Rena leaned to skim a good-night kiss on her son's forehead. "I love you."

He hooked an arm up and around for a hug. "Love you, too, Mom." He pulled back, mock surprise on his face.

"Gee, when did you get so little?"

"When did you get so big?" She grinned.

Laughing, a deeper sound these days, he flopped back. "G'night."

"Good night, hon."

Clicking off the overhead light, she left, closing his door on her way out. Finally, she and J.T. could be

alone. Would they talk? Or just cut straight to mind-blowing s.e.x? Or pa.s.s out from exhaustion?

Her tummy tumbled in nervous flips.

Rena padded down the stairs, toward the computer room, refusing to let the ghosts of their afternoon

horror haunt her home. She peeked into the office. No J.T., but sure enough, right beside the b.u.t.t-ugly green chair rested a thick tome.

She stepped closer, her hand falling to rest on the volume of Shakespearean plays. She thumbed through,

some pages highlighted, her husband's spiky scrawl beside pa.s.sages. She let the book fall open as if it

might give her a glimpse into J.T., a hint for what she should do next."Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt." Measurefor Measure. Rena traced a finger along the words. No more waiting. She knew exactly what sheneeded to do and finally had the confidence in herself to go for broke.

Rena snapped closed the book. She had a husband to welcome home.

Making tracks back up the stairs, she headed straight for the bedroom closet. First on her welcome-home agenda, clear room for his flight suits and Hawaiian shirts.

A swoop of her arm smooshed her work dresses to the side. She didn't intend to give up pushing for

marital counseling. But in the meantime, she could still go on her own, work through some of her issues from her childhood. Straighten out her insecurities and need for control.

A starting place.

Kneeling, she lined her heels up in double rows to empty s.p.a.ce for his boots and gym shoes.

The phone jangled from beside the bed.

A call? This late?

She eased to her feet and rushed to scoop the cordless phone from beside a pot of minimums. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Hi, is Rena there?" her husband's deep voice rumbled through the line.

Huh? Had he hit his head harder than she'd thought? Maybe she should have insisted the flight surgeon take another look at him. "J.T.? Are you all right?"

"I'm totally all right. In fact, I've been more than all right since I saw you at that air show."

Okay, now she was really getting worried. "J.T., where are you?"

"Turn around."

She spun-to find him lounging against the hall door, cell phone at his ear. One black leather hoot

pressed to the wall, his knee bent. His flight suit stretched across mile-wide shoulders. "I was hoping you'd remember me, because since the second I saw you, I've been hoping like h.e.l.l you'd go out with me. So, I decided to give you a call, see if you're free this Friday for a date with a local flyboy."

G.o.d, as much as she drooled over those shoulders of his, he really took her breath away when he smiled.