Night Maneuvers

chapter 4

United States Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs,

CO, September 1999

ON CADET FIRST Class Alexandria Hughes’s first day at the Academy, her main goal was to make sure she didn’t walk inside the halls with her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. She couldn’t believe she’d actually been accepted. To a small-town girl from the Texas Panhandle, attending the Academy was amazing, a dream come true and scary as hell. But she would rather have had all her nails pulled out one by one than show it.

After the swearing-in ceremony she stood on the field and watched all the other cadets saying goodbye to their parents up in the stands. Her parents couldn’t afford the plane tickets or the time away from the ranch, so she headed inside. She understood why they didn’t come, but it still gave her a pang to watch everyone else.

As she turned in to an empty hallway, she was grabbed from behind, one hand clamped over her mouth while another guy pulled her hands behind her back and duct-taped them, then took her feet and carried her farther away, down another empty corridor.

She fought them, struggling against them, kicking, bucking, trying to bite the hand over her mouth. Her hat fell off, and her neatly pinned bun came undone. She knew what was coming if she didn’t get away. But she wasn’t getting anywhere fighting like this.

As hard as it was, she tamped down panic and quit fighting. Best to save her energy for an opportunity. They had to put her down at some point. But her heart was pounding triple time.

“Back in Memphis we call boys who pick on girls punk-ass cowards,” a deep voice called from behind them. His smooth Southern drawl made it seem as if he were just having a nice conversation.

The upperclassmen holding her halted and switched their attention to the young cadet, and so did Alex.

With his arms folded across his chest, he leaned against the lockers with a nonchalance that bordered on cocky.

“What’d you say, boy?” one of her captors asked.

The Memphis madman pushed off the lockers and unfolded his arms. “I believe I called you punk-ass cowards.” He raised a cocky brow to match his grin.

“Boy, you get the hell out of here and mind your own business,” warned one, but his hold on her feet loosened as he spoke. This was her chance.

She kicked backward with her steel-toed boot and heard the satisfying crack of one captor’s knee, and his howl of pain. As he let go of her mouth, she turned and head-butted his nose as hard as she could. Yes! He was down.

She turned to see Memphis man had the upperclassman on the ground, beating his face to a pulp.

“Okay, that’s enough. Hey!”

Finally Memphis looked at her, his dogged expression dissolving into a blank look of confusion. He glanced back down at the bloodied face he’d almost pulverized and then back at her. “You okay?”

Alex blinked at the pure beauty of the man. Even in his desert camo fatigues and a buzz cut, he was all golden hair and light blue eyes.

“Can you untape my hands?” She hated that her voice shook. It was just adrenaline kicking in, but she despised sounding weak in front of a classmate.

“Sure thing, darlin’.” He flashed a smile that included dimples and Alex’s insides kind of flipped. Pulling a Swiss Army knife from his boot, he cut the tape open.

Great. She hadn’t even been here a week and her hopes of being treated equally were fading fast. How could she win the respect of her classmates if she couldn’t fight her own battles? She had to be independent. She didn’t want some guy with a savior complex running interference for her just because she was female.

As soon as the tape was cut she ripped off the rest of it, and started marching back toward the main building’s foyer.

“Hey, wait up.” He jogged to catch up to her.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

“Do what? Rescue you?”

She stopped and faced him. “First, you didn’t ‘rescue’ me. Second, I don’t need you to meddle in my problems. I can handle myself.”

He glanced behind them. “Don’t get me wrong, you did great, but I don’t know about you handling two of them.”

Despite herself, she shivered. “You may be right.” She tightened her lips and folded her arms. “Thanks.” Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin. “But I need to take care of myself.”

His brows rose. “Okay.”

“Just remember that and we’ll get along fine.”

He nodded and held out his right hand. “Mitch McCabe.” He was still smiling, still flashing white teeth and dimples. Despite the danger of what had just happened, his grin snuck past her carefully built defenses.

After a moment’s hesitation, she shook it. “Alex Hughes.”

As soon as she got back to her room, she sank down against the door with her arms around her knees and shook for half an hour.

SHE THOUGHT SHE’D made herself clear to Sir Lancelot then. She didn’t need anyone. And despite her efforts to ignore the guy, it seemed like every time she fell behind on the obstacle course, or had to take an extra minute to get back up from falling down, he was there. Not offering a hand, but…just waiting with her.

She told him not to. To go on, leave her alone. She was fine. Finally, he seemed to get the message. Twelve weeks in, between the rigorous military training, the academic curriculum and the killer athletics program, she was exhausted and almost ready to quit. Though she’d die rather than admit it, the strain was getting to her.

After a worse than grueling day, when she’d failed at everything, she spent longer than usual in the shower, letting the hot water pound her sore muscles. When she got out, she wrapped up in a towel and padded out to the dressing room. She opened her locker and folded neatly in place of her panties was a pair of clean and pressed white men’s boxer shorts.

She scanned the area, but she was alone. Someone had come in while she was showering and left again. Instead of creeping her out, the realization made her feel safe. Whoever it was, if he was going to harm her, he would’ve.

Rumor had it if a female cadet found a pair of men’s underwear in their stuff she’d been officially accepted as one of the guys.

As she unfolded the shorts a playing card fell out. It was the king of spades. But the back was a picture of Elvis. The card was from a Graceland souvenir pack.

Alex smiled and shook her head. The king? Elvis? Memphis?

McCabe.

He was telling her she could do this. She was as tough as any man. And he had her back.

If she hadn’t already, in that moment, Alex Hughes fell hard for Cadet First Class Mitch McCabe.

United States Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs, CO May 2000

ALEX STOPPED AT McCabe’s door. Good, there was light underneath. She gave a brief knock and then let herself in. “Hey, Memphis?”

“Hughes! Thank God.”

A warm glow filled her chest at the delight in McCabe’s voice and face. To see her.

He sat with his ankle crossed over his knee, banging a pencil on a spiral notebook like a stick on a drum. “Is that pizza?”

“Our favorite, Mexican fajita with extra jalapeños.”

McCabe tossed the spiral onto his desk, shot out of his chair and grabbed some barely used paper plates off the floor. “Let’s eat.” He set the pizza box on top of the spiral and seized the largest slice.

The man was too distracting in a plain white T-shirt just tight enough to hug the contours of his chiseled chest. And was she crazy to find camo pants sexy? She had to stop thinking about him like this. He had a girlfriend.

“You’re studying?” She hopped onto his desk, set the box down and snatched a slice for herself.

He nodded. “Trying to memorize all those dates.” He gestured at the notebook under the pizza. “God, I hate all this history stuff. Who cares about some Roman emperor who ruled a thousand years ago?”

She leaned forward to pull the notebook out from under the box. Trying to read the chicken scrawl on coffee-stained notepaper was a challenge. “Is this Western Civ? I like that class. The stuff about the Hapsburgs…? Totally revealing.”

He frowned. “Hapsburgs?”

“Yeah, women were just a means to gain power to them, the pigs.”

“I must’ve slept through that part.”

From the other side of the wall behind his desk came loud moaning and a rhythmic banging.

McCabe groaned. “My neighbor obviously has no anxiety about getting kicked out.”

She scoffed. “And you do?”

“I have to get at least a ninety on the final exam or I’ll flunk this class. If that happens, I’m out.”

“That won’t happen. We’ll associate each date with something interesting to you.”

He studied the pizza on his lap. “Hughes. If I can’t hack it here, I can’t ask Luanne to marry me.”

She stopped chewing, horrified. “Marry you? You can’t get married while you’re in the Academy.”

“No, but I can the day after we graduate. Why do you think they have that chapel here?” He grinned and excitement sparked in his gorgeous baby blues.

“McCabe. Seriously. You don’t want to tie yourself down at twenty-two. Don’t you want to go off and see the world first?”

“Luanne and I’ve been going together since our sophomore year. She agreed to wait for me, so I can make something of myself. But I don’t know if she’ll wait any longer than graduation.”

“Make something of yourself? What are you now, chopped liver?”

“Come on. You know what I mean.”

Hughes’s lips flattened. “All I’m saying is you’re a great guy. Your girlfriend should love you for who you are.”

McCabe gave her his cockiest grin. The dimples appeared out of nowhere and hit their target with deadly force. “I’m a great guy, huh?”

She lifted her foot to his shoulder and shoved. “Don’t get your head all swelled up.”

“Nah, that’s the guy next door.” He jerked his thumb toward the wall.

“Ugh.” She tossed the rest of her pizza back on her plate. “Could’ve done without that image.”

He chuckled and there was a comfortable silence while he finished his slice and she hopped off the desk and grabbed a soda from his roommate’s minifridge. “Hey, Hughes?”

“Yeah?” She popped the top off the can.

“How come you’re not out having a good time tonight?”

“A good time? You mean, like, stand around waiting to see if there’s a guy desperate enough by closing time to ask me back to his place so he can get his rocks off, and if I’m lucky he might be good enough to make sure I get my rocks off, too? That kind of good time?”

“Geez, when you put it that way…” He grabbed the soda from her hand and took a swig while he narrowed his gaze on her. “You’d be kind of cute if you’d fix yourself up a little.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Gee, thanks.”

“I’m serious. Fix your hair, wear something nice and put on some makeup.”

Alex bristled. “Why would I ever want to do that? So I can get groped by hormonal cretins?” She was comfortable in her old T-shirts and jeans. Her hair was cut so short there wasn’t much she could do with it, even if she wanted to. The backward baseball cap hid it most of the time anyway. “I have to work twice as hard to get respect around here as it is. And besides, did it ever occur to you I don’t want or need a man in my life? My mother slaves away cooking and cleaning for my dad and brothers 365 and you think they appreciate or respect her? Hell, no. A husband and kids is nothing but an anchor weighing down a woman, keeping her from becoming who she was meant to be.”

McCabe held his palms up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I get it.”

Alex inhaled a calming breath. Wow, that diatribe had been building inside her a long time. And poor McCabe didn’t deserve all her built-up resentment. She let out her breath, feeling the anger leave with it. “Sorry for the rant.”

“Forget it.” He waved a hand. “So…you don’t ever want to get married and have kids?”

She shrugged and took a sip of her drink. “Married maybe. When I’m old. Not kids. How could I be a fighter pilot and be pregnant? Or go into combat?” She shook her head.

His lower lip pushed out as he nodded. “Gotta admit, never thought of that.”

Oh, those lips. Luanne, you lucky girl.

“What about you?” she asked. “I guess you and what’s-her-name want a bunch of rug rats?”

He leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head, “I’d like four. She says two and then we’ll see. I just want my kids to have everything I didn’t have growing up.”

“Four? Geez. I’ve got three brothers. You know how much laundry that’ll take?”

He shrugged. “I can help with that when I’m home.” He spread his hands out to his sides. “Besides, the world deserves to have these genes passed on.”

Alex couldn’t agree more. But she rolled her eyes. “You’re so full of it.”

He reached up and punched her arm. “That’s what you love about me, though, right?” He grinned.

Love about him? What was not to love? Her heart hurt, but she made herself smile. “Damn straight.”

“So, you gonna help me learn all these dates or what?” He grabbed another slice of pizza.

“Absolutely, Memphis. I got your back.”

United States Air Force Academy Chapel, July 2003

IF THERE WAS a place in the ceremony where the minister asked the congregation if anyone knew of any reason why the bride and groom shouldn’t get married, Alex decided she’d raise her hand.

Okay, so she probably wouldn’t.

But she wanted to.

Don’t do it, Mitch! She wanted to yell at him as she helped him straighten his tie. She finished and he turned to look in the mirror.

“Well, what do you think?” he asked, his gaze finding hers in the reflection.

He looked more handsome than a man had a right to in his dress uniform. She shrugged. “You clean up good.” She made herself smile. “Hey, McCabe?”

“Yeah?” He grabbed his black leather belt and scabbard and buckled it around his waist.

“You know, there’s no shame in changing your mind. Better now than after, right?”

He stopped fiddling with the buckle and gaped at her. “You’ve never liked Luanne.”

“I don’t even know Luanne.” Alex swallowed, but soldiered on. “It’s just so permanent. And you’re both so young.”

“Hughes. When you’re in love, you just know when it’s right. And this is right.” He took her by the shoulders. “Luanne and I want the same things. Kids, a home, family.”

Right. All those things she’d rashly told him she didn’t want years ago.

But geez, Mitch was both blind and deaf when it came to Luanne. Alex doubted the girl had thought about much past the hearts and flowers and romance. She’d insisted on a huge wedding with all the bells and whistles. The cake, the flowers, the dress. And of course her parents provided it all, except the traditional rehearsal dinner last night. Which Mitch couldn’t really afford. But he’d paid for her entire family, even distant relatives, to dine at the exclusive Penrose Room at the Broadmoor. Mitch was so hopelessly in love he wanted Luanne to have everything she wanted.

And that was what bothered Alex the most. This girl was a year younger than Mitch—only twenty-one, and she’d obviously, in Alex’s admittedly biased opinion, been spoiled. Whatever she wanted, she got. Or else.

Mitch let go of her shoulders and picked up his saber. “Hughes, I think I know what’s really going on here.”

Alex drew in a deep breath. “You do?”

Did he know? She thought she’d hidden her feelings so well. All through the Academy, she’d tried to convince herself it was just infatuation. Besides, she wanted a career and her independence.

Mitch nodded. “You’re afraid this is going to change our friendship. But it won’t. Luanne understands we’re just buddies.”

Friendship. She let out her breath. Right.

He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “And she knows guys need a night every once in a while to go out with their buddies for a beer and a game of pool.”

Alex tried to smile and Mitch let her go to turn to the mirror and slide his saber into the scabbard. “Well, this is it.” His eyes met hers in the mirror again. “I need you to be cool with this, Hughes.”

She watched him in the reflection for a moment. His eyes shining with happiness and excitement. His heart so full of love and hope. Who was she to assume it wouldn’t work out? Maybe Luanne was exactly what he needed in his life. And, above all, Alex wanted Mitch to be happy. He was one of the good guys. He deserved it.

So, she shoved down the malignant mass of churned-up emotions that threatened to ruin her best friend’s most special day. If this was what Mitch wanted, this was what Mitch was going to have.

“Don’t worry, Memphis.” She clamped her hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got your back.”

Near Randolph Air Force Base, San Antonio, TX, February 2004

ALEX WOKE UP instantly to her cell phone playing Walking in Memphis. “Hughes,” she answered.

“Hey, Hughes, my wingman, come play some pool with me.”

“McCabe?” He sounded drunk, but that wasn’t like McCabe. Alex sat up and checked the time. “It’s after midnight. We have flight training at 0600.”

She heard him curse and what sounded like him fumbling his phone, then he said, “I forgot about training tomorrow.”

“You…forgot?” How the hell did McCabe forget flight training? That’d be like Bush saying he forgot he was president.

“Shit, Hughes. You better come get me. I think I’m drunk.”

“Ya think?” She was already pulling on her jeans. “Tell me where you are.”

She was dressed and out the door in less than five minutes and found the pool hall off the interstate without too much trouble.

McCabe was sitting outside on the curb, his elbows on his knees, his head hanging down. It was cold and drizzly out, and he was getting wet. When she pulled into a parking space he looked up and Alex caught her breath.

She’d never seen such devastation in her friend’s eyes. Even as he gave her a small smile. “Hey, Hughes.” He stood and swayed on his feet and she raced over to catch him under his arm.

“Hey, buddy.” She helped him walk to her truck.

His blond hair was disheveled and his desert camos were rumpled, but he still smelled of that expensive sandalwood cologne he always wore, and it pulled at her senses. She realized she’d been avoiding any close contact with him the last six months—since the wedding.

Contrary to Mitch’s assurances before the wedding, Luanne didn’t understand. In fact, Alex was fairly certain Luanne didn’t like her at all.

“Thanks for coming.” He slammed his door and she went around to the driver’s side.

“No problem.” He’d already put on his seat belt and she snapped hers on before shifting out of Park.

They were halfway back to base before he said anything. She sure as hell wasn’t going to ask questions. “Think I could crash at your place tonight?” He squeezed his eyes closed while he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Sure thing.” He must’ve had another fight with Luanne. But this one had to have been worse than usual.

Alex had gone out of her way to give the newlyweds space. To be on her best behavior. But McCabe’s wife seemed to complain about everything. From what little he’d said, it sounded as if she spent most of her days either shopping for stuff they couldn’t afford or complaining there was nothing to do.

Once they were at Alex’s apartment she gathered up a spare pillow, blanket and sheets while McCabe hit the john. She was making up a bed on the couch when he came out.

She looked up from tucking a corner under the cushion and desire slammed into her like a tidal wave.

McCabe—Mitch had stripped down to his skivvies and undershirt. Black boxer-briefs had no business being on such a hard-muscled body. The combination was just too intoxicating.

Stop it, Alex, the man is upset. She tore her gaze away from his—whatever—and finished tucking the sheet.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He gestured at the made-up sofa.

“Shut up. It’s done.” She tossed him the pillow. “Good night.”

“Good night, Hughes.” He was staring at her as if he wanted to say more, so she stayed where she was. How she longed to close the distance between them, bring her hands up and smooth the deep lines from his brow and then soothe his anguish away with a kiss.

And how inappropriate was that? How could she blame Luanne for not liking her?

Alex made herself break eye contact and brush past him, but as she headed down the hall, she turned back. “McCabe?”

He turned to face her. “Yeah?”

“Things will work out, you’ll see. I bet in the morning she’ll call, and you’ll apologize, and—”

“I caught her with another man in our bed this afternoon.”

Alex actually felt her jaw drop open. She froze like that, unable to comprehend how someone could prefer any other man to Mitch McCabe. The stupid witch had him in her bed every night, got to lie in his arms, basking in his love. And that wasn’t enough?

“Is she crazy?” She blurted the words out before she could stop herself.

McCabe gave a humorless laugh and plopped down into the love seat. His smile quickly disappeared as he stared straight ahead. “Can’t blame her. The guy’s the son of a Texas senator. He owns his own company and a lot of real estate in the area.”

“Well, I sure can blame her!” Alex paced into the kitchen, flipped on the light and started making coffee. “She spoke vows to you, McCabe. And I don’t think they said ‘Till you find someone richer do you part.’”

He looked over at her then. “Yeah, but, I wasn’t honest with her, either.”

“You? No way you cheated on her.”

The sorrow in his face softened. “You’re so sure I’m a good guy.”

She shrugged. “Of course.”

He studied her a moment longer before turning his attention back to empty space. “I lied to her from the beginning.”

For the second time tonight Alex stilled, frozen in the act of reaching for mugs in the cabinet. She saw Mitch in profile, saw his jaw muscle tick. His arm lay along the arm of the love seat and his fist was clenched. “What about?”

“I told her my mother was dead.”

“And…she’s not?” She resumed getting down the mugs and then went for the sugar and creamer.

He shrugged. “As far as I know she’s still drinking herself into a blackout every night, oh, and spreading her legs for whoever will buy her the booze.”

Whoa. No wonder he wanted to pretend she was dead. “Okay. But that shouldn’t be a deal breaker. You’re not an alcoholic. You haven’t moved your mom in with you, as far as I know, so why should it bother Luanne?”

“Ever since I told her the truth she’s been…different.”

“Because you lied? I think it’s kind of understandable.”

His chest expanded as he drew in a deep breath, then he exhaled and dropped his head back onto the love seat. “Don’t you get it? She didn’t know she was marrying some lowlife from the bad side of Memphis. I got into the ROTC and transferred to her high school. In a nice part of town. A respectable neighborhood. I don’t even know who my father is.”

“Mitch, Luanne should love you. No matter where you grew up, or who your parents are.”

Still against the back of the sofa, he turned his head toward her. His baby blue eyes were bright with moisture. “I’m done with love, Hughes.”

Goose bumps rose on Alex’s arms at the hopelessness of his words, in his voice. She swallowed and busied herself with pouring them both coffee. “You can’t forgive her?”

He narrowed his eyes and his expression hardened. “Could you?”

She replaced the coffee carafe in the coffeemaker and met his gaze. “No.”

With a nod, he pushed off the love seat, stood and stretched, his arms extended high over his head. His stomach flattened and his rib cage broadened. “We better get some sleep.” He rubbed his face with both hands and practically fell onto the made-up sofa.

“But don’t you want—?” Before she could finish the question he’d turned on his side, his back to her. Alex stared down at the mugs of coffee in her hands. With a shrug she poured them down the sink and switched off the light.

For a long time after that, she lay awake in her bed thinking about the man lying on her couch. Wishing he were in her bed. Longing to know what it would feel like to be in his arms. And thinking guiltily that maybe now, just maybe, there might be hope for that dream to come true someday.

Nellis Air Force Base, Las Vegas, NV, 2007

“A TOAST,” MITCH McCabe called out to the airmen gathered around the bar at the officers’ club.

Alex lifted her bottle of Shiner’s, looked around at all the friends she’d made the past year and tried to etch this image permanently in her memory. She was going to miss them, and this place.

After serving her tour of duty in Iraq, being stationed at Nellis had been like coming home to live in an amusement park. Especially when she’d learned that Mitch would be stationed here, also.

“To newly promoted Captain Alex Hughes,” Mitch continued, his gaze finding hers across the crowd. “May her transfer to Langley be successful, and her exploits while she’s there be numerous.” He gestured to her with his tumbler of Jim Beam and then drank it down.

She tipped her bottle to him and then sipped her beer.

Alex refused to let tears come. She’d resigned herself to thinking of Mitch McCabe only as an old friend. A deeply troubled friend she couldn’t help.

And she’d tried.

His bitterness after his divorce was only natural. But after returning from Iraq his womanizing had escalated to the point where Alex believed it fed his anger. It had become self-destructive.

Of course, Mitch didn’t see it that way. The only time they’d ever seriously quarreled was the night she’d tried to have an honest discussion with him about it. Things had gotten pretty heated. After that night, she’d gone to her commander and requested a transfer. She couldn’t stand by and witness what he was doing to himself anymore.

This change would be good for her. She needed to move on. A fresh start, a new environment, new friends. Maybe she could even find a man to love. She was twenty-six and she’d never had a long-term relationship. She’d like to know what it was like to have a boyfriend.

“Another toast,” Major Grady called out and everyone raised their glasses and bottles again. “To Captain Cole Jackson, who’s shipping out next week.” Grady tipped his bottled water toward their friend Jackson. “Good luck in the sandbox, Captain.”

Glasses clinked, and a few airmen called out, “To Jackson!”

Alex finished her beer, shrugged her way through the pack to Jackson and offered her right hand.

He shook it and pulled her forward for a one-armed hug. “Take care, Hughes,” he said into her ear.

“You, too, Jackson. See you when you get back.” Alex turned to find Mitch beside her. Their eyes met and held a moment before Mitch broke contact to shake Jackson’s hand, telling him goodbye.

Then Mitch turned back to her. “So, what time’s your flight?”

“It’s early, around the buttcrack of dawn.”

“Well, I’ll come pick you up so you—”

“No.”

He pursed his lips and folded his arms. “You’re still pissed about our fight.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I just don’t like goodbyes.”

“But you asked for this transfer.”

She shrugged. “It’s a career move. An opportunity to work with Washington liaisons. I couldn’t pass that up.”

He cocked his head and raised a brow. “So, I guess this is goodbye.”

“I told you. I don’t like goodbyes. We’ll keep in touch…it’ll be fine.” She extended her right hand.

He stared at her hand so long Alex thought he wasn’t going to shake it. When he finally took her hand he yanked her to him and enclosed her in his arms. She felt his chin resting on her head. “I’m going to miss you.”

Determined not to cry, Alex squeezed her eyes closed. She’d told him she didn’t want to do this. She pulled out of his arms. “Geez, McCabe, it’s only a two-year assignment.” She punched him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.” And she turned and strode away.