Zach kicked up the stand and guided the motorcycle through military housing, into main base, past the clinic while holding to a sedate speed.
Until he cruised through the front security gate.
The Harley leapt to life, accelerating along the curving access road, faster. He leaned, urging the motorcycle farther, hugging the road in a heart-thumping turn that would have had her screaming if anyone other than Zach had been in control. He wouldn't risk hurting her. Zach would know just how far to push that bike and the boundaries to bring her the maximum thrill.
Pine trees blurred into a haze of green on one side. On the other, the length of runway behind a fence whipped past. A short ride on the highway led them up onto the interstate, raised roads and bridges so much a part of the water-locked Charleston way of life.
Wind churned beneath, over and around them. Overhead, street lights illuminated the lanes with nothing but black swirling below them, sky above. City lights sprinkled too far away to touch. The bike hummed along the bridge, the stretch of road seeming suspended in midair flying a path into infinity.>The shouts doubled. "Wolf! Wolf! Wolf!"
Zach's smile never wavered while he waited them out, his rhythmic tapping resuming.
Julia's fingers slowed along the rose. How many times had he done that throughout the evening? She looked closer. The brace of his shoulders wasn't nearly as relaxed as his smile implied.
She listened more closely to his words as he rallied his squadron. When had she become so in-tune to his inflections that she could detect even a hint of tightness to his tones?
"That said, nobody do anything stupid tonight," Zach continued. "If you've been sent to the grog bowl for protocol infractions a few too many times and don't have a designated driver lined up, check with Bronco over there. He's volunteered his chauffeuring services since he's not getting much sleep anyway with a newborn in the house."
Laughter rumbled through the room, Zach joining in. Julia wasn't fooled anymore. For a man who displayed so little of his emotions, those small gestures bellowed louder than the squadron shouts. He was distracted, agitated even.
Her mind raced to the obvious. Pam's return.
Jealousy pinched Julia. Hard.
Zach raised his hand, shooting a thumbs-up to the crowd. "I declare this Dining-Out officially concluded. Carry on."
Then he shifted his attention to her. Fully. A tingle rippled through Julia like a near-miss with an electrical socket.
His eyes never leaving her, he marched down the steps toward the head table with long determined strides, his fingers still drumming along his thigh. Seeing Pam again wouldn't have this much power over him unless he still harbored unresolved feelings.
Close on the heels of jealousy followed a wash of loss. How damned tragic that just when she'd moved past losing Lance she realized Zach might not be over Pam.
Julia's hopes for the evening faded. He'd been strong for her a month ago. He'd given her time to come to terms with Lance's death and helped her heal. How could she do any less for him?
Chandeliers glowed, glinting off Zach's coal-black hair and casting shadows along the bold angles of his face. God, he was beyond handsome. With a sigh of regret, she bid farewell to her late-night plans for peeling that uniform off every muscled inch of his body.
Less than a half hour left until he could peel that velvet dress off Julia's sleek body.
Zach strode straight toward his wife. Julia.
He shut out thoughts of his first wife. Pam's return wouldn't change a thing, even if she bothered to stick around this time. Any feelings for her had died a brutal death years ago, long before they'd filed for divorce. Now, he only wanted to protect his daughters from having their hearts trounced again. Zach absently patted the side of his leg, impatient to leave.
Pam had no bearing on his relationship with Julia.
A relationship he intended to deepen very soon.
Zach cupped a possessive hand on her shoulder. His thumb worked a slow caress along her back, away from prying eyes. The crushed velvet didn't come close to rivaling the incredible satin of her skin.
The head table rose for the official recessional. Once they were out in the hall, others thronged around them, but he kept his eyes firmly set on the door. No need to sweat leaving now. The party was well underway, Bronco making an effective bouncer/keeper-of-order with his linebacker-sized bulk.
The band started their next set, Major Grayson "Cutter" Clark commandeering the microphone to growl out a tune. Zach threaded through the crowd toward the coat room, Cutter's Eagles revamp filling the hall.
Finally free, Zach guided Julia toward the coat check. The low scoop of her dress in back showcased the graceful curve of her spine. An enticing view and he intended to see more soon.
He draped an insubstantial red gauzy wrap over her shoulders, leaning closer until the sweep of her curls caressed his cheek. "Have I told you how incredible you look?"
"Your girls deserve the credit. Left up to me, I'd have probably worn silk overalls and high tops."
"Either way, you'd look as gorgeous."