Chapter 8
Mantis and Alegria
What the fuck was Dutch up to? “You know, for someone in love, you sure as hell push her in my direction a lot.”
“It isn’t that.”
Mantis looked away from his book and met Dutch’s eyes. “What is it, then?”
“We’ve been best friends for close to fifteen years. At the end of the day, that’s what’s most important to me.”
“You can’t force it. People grow apart, Dutch. Whether you and Alegria are together or not, our friendship may never be the same as it once was. That’s life.”
When Dutch shrugged and looked out the window, Mantis looked back at his tablet. He’d read the same two paragraphs several times and hadn’t retained a single word. There was no point in trying to read when all he could think about was a beautiful French girl who had captured his eighteen-year-old heart.
He rested his head against the seat back and closed his eyes. He could hardly remember his life before she came waltzing into it.
Her ebony-black hair was pulled back into the tight bun required by Air Force regulations, highlighting her mesmerizing, almond-shaped, gray-blue eyes. She looked terrified, and rightly so.
Their squadron commander had briefed them on her arrival a week ago. Manon Mondreau had attended the École Spéciale Militaire de Saint-Cyr in Northwest France for a year, but was transferring to the Air Force Academy as a C3C, or third-class cadet, like he and his best friend, Tom Miller, were.
“Hi, I’m Gehring Cassman,” he said once her official introduction to the squadron was over. He’d slowly made his way closer to her so he could be the first to meet her personally. Tom, of course, was right on his heels.
“Manon Mondreau,” she said, shaking the hand he’d extended.
“This is Tom,” he said, wishing he could just ignore him but knowing that would be rude.
“Cadet Miller? A word,” said the commander.
Gehring said a silent prayer of thanks that Tom had been called away and he could talk to Manon alone.
“If you have any questions, want a tour, pretty much anything, just let me know.”
“Merci,” she whispered, and then smiled.
Gehring’s heart practically stopped.
God, he’d loved her. Still did, if he was honest.
He opened his eyes, shook his head, and tried once again to focus on his book. He glanced over at Dutch, who appeared to have fallen asleep, and breathed a sigh of relief. If he were awake, he’d ask Mantis what he was thinking about. That’s just how Dutch was.
He looked out of his own window at the clouds they were flying through, already anxious to get back into the cockpit himself. Thanks to Doc Butler, it wouldn’t be long before he was. Doc had left a message earlier, saying that Onyx was bringing one of the K19 planes to the airfield and he was welcome to fly it to Westchester.
He’d immediately confirmed, and when he asked about filing the flight plan, Doc told him it had already been taken care of.
There was really nothing like flying a plane—except sex—and that was totally different, although no less exhilarating.
Sex. Jesus. Now was not the time for him to think about sex. It had been way too long, longer than he wanted to admit even to himself, since he sank into the soft body of a warm woman. The truth was, he hadn’t been with anyone since the last time he and Manon were together. He couldn’t bring himself to imagine being intimate with anyone but her.
There was no more beautiful woman in the world as far as he was concerned. Everything about her heated him up. It wasn’t just her body he lusted after; it was her soul. Manon was complicated, sure, but she was also kind, lively, funny, and absolutely badass.
Her eyes could tell him a chapters-long story without her having to say a word. Her every expression was etched into his memory. Mantis knew when she was tired, but not sleepy. He knew when she was frustrated, when anyone else would think she was angry. Her smile lit up the darkest recesses of his soul, bathing him in the healing light only she could give him.
The thought of never holding her naked body in his arms again made him come close to losing his shit and driving his hand through the plane’s window.
Agony. That’s what being without her felt like. The worst agony he could ever imagine times ten thousand. Would the countless memories they’d made together ever fade, or would they haunt him for the rest of his life?
And Dutch? He wanted them to be the happy threesome they’d never really been. When the situation was reversed and he was with Alegria, Dutch had probably been as miserable as Mantis was now, but he’d hidden it well.