Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Are you sure?” I asked, hating that she was so easily giving up on her dream of a wedding. The last thing I would ever want was for her to regret not having a wedding. I didn’t care how or where we got married, as long as Linnzi was mine.
“Yes. I’d rather you save your leave for when the baby is born.”
I nodded.
She chewed on her lip and looked down. Her light brown hair was pulled in a ponytail with one curl dangling in front of her eye. She pushed it back and her sky-blue eyes met mine. I could see the fear in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
She gave a half shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve been dreaming of this since the first time you ever smiled at me. But I’m scared, Nolan. I want this baby so much, and I’m terrified something is going to happen.”
I shook my head and swallowed hard. “Listen to me, Linz. I swear to you, I will never…never…let anything happen to you or to our baby.”
She gave me a wobbly nod. “And what about you? Promise me you’ll stay safe.”
I knew it was a promise I shouldn’t even make. I flew fighter jets for a living, for Christ’s sake. My job was dangerous. But the worry in her eyes nearly gutted me. So, I drew in a deep breath and made her another promise. “I’ll always be there for both of you. Always.”
She smiled and drew in a shaky breath. “I love you so much, Nolan.”
My heart felt like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed it. I missed her so much and couldn’t wait to make her my wife so she could be with me always.
“Not as much as I love you, Linz.”
Five Years Later
THERE WAS NOTHING like being in an inverted spin. Nothing. No words could even describe it. It was scary as fuck, thrilling as all get out, and it was my job.
For nearly one minute, my F-22 Raptor spun out of control as I waited for the new system installed on the plane to kick in and help right the plane. Control talked in my ear as I focused on getting the plane righted. Then, as quickly as I lost it before, I regained control.
I felt myself smile and let out the breath I hadn’t even realized I had been holding.
“Great job, Captain,” came the familiar voice in my ear.
“Good going, Bang,” my best friend and fellow test pilot, Jack “Maddog” Monroe, said.
Jack always called me by my call sign, Bang. I had a thing for breaking the sound barrier, and he swore I got off on it. It didn’t take long for the call sign to stick.
“Way to go, Captain Byers,” Major Wise said. Even I could hear the smile in his voice.
Control came back over. “RTB, Captain. That’s it for today. We’ve got the data we need.”
RTB, return to base. I hated hearing that. If it were up to me, I’d stay in this plane, flying up in the clouds for as long as I could. But that wasn’t possible, and a few minutes later, I landed the F-22 at Edwards Air Force Base.
F-22s weren’t the only planes I was a test pilot on. It wasn’t very common for a test pilot to be qualified in multiple aircraft, but I was. I was nothing if not an overachiever.
As I walked back into the building, I caught sight of Jack. He smiled as I made my way back to my locker.
“Damn good flying, Bang.”
I shot him a cocky grin. “Did you take notes?”
He laughed as he followed me. “You wish you could teach something.”
“Oh, I’m positive I could teach you plenty.”
Jack sighed and shook his head. “Where are you going on leave?”
For a moment, I tensed. Jack had been one of my closest friends since test pilot school. He was also one of the few people outside of Boerne, Texas, who knew the reason I joined the program. He knew my pain and had been there countless times for me when I found myself drowning in a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Or when I was on the verge of walking a bit too dangerous of a line. Jack had always been there to pull me back. Not even my best friends in Texas knew how bad it had gotten at times. I rarely ventured back to the Lone Star State. At least, I went there as little as possible. When my folks died in a car accident six years ago and left me the family ranch, I had turned over the running of it to one of my father’s most trusted friends, Paul Landon. He had worked for my daddy for as long as I could remember. He knew the demons that faced me back home, and he didn’t hold it against me when I didn’t return unless I absolutely had to.