Free Man Of Few Words by Ursula Whistler Page A

and turned her face toward his. “You’re not. Kirsten, you’re a beautiful, smart woman.”
    “Caught in a storm of former commanding officers.” Although her voice was calm, the rest of her could barely keep within normal operating boundaries. The scent of Boomer’s sweat teased at her nose and lured her closer to him. Her pulse throbbed in her neck, and the place where his hand touched sent tingles of excitement to her chest. She envisioned her fingers tracing the smile line at the side of his mouth before taking his chin in hand and pressing her lips against his. Being with Duff must have amped up her sex drive. She hadn’t ever thought of Boomer that way. She wiped those crazy images from her mind.
    “That you are. I promise not to tell you what to do, except…” He dropped his hand from her chin and removed his gaze from her. “Ah, never mind.”
    With the connection broken, she realized what a mistake it would have been to kiss Boomer. Her heart hadn’t fully given up on Duff. Putting another man in the mix would make matters worse. She used teasing as a way to bring more distance between them. “You can give orders, but I refuse to obey. That isn’t ever going to change.”
    He slapped his thigh and stood. “I wouldn’t expect anything else, professor. I’m gonna get going. Gotta squeeze in one more job before I lose all the daylight.”
    “Get going, then. Call me before coming tomorrow. I may need to put off going through Dad’s stuff.” Not only did she have lessons to construct before Monday, she planned to patch up the mess she’d made with Duff, if she could figure out how to contact him. He’d told her to call, but she hadn’t gotten his number.
    “Sure. It might work better for Wednesday. We’ve got a big job out here then. Let’s grab a bite and tackle it then.”
    “Great. Thanks, Boomer.”
    “Any time, Kirsten.”
    “Careful, I may take you up on that.”
    Boomer seemed like a pretty good replacement if Duff didn’t work out. That thought brought a smile to her face. She had options, and pretty damn good ones. Well, she would have options once she got Duff to relax about the other Marine that may or may not hang around the house. She’d not been very nice or understanding to him. Perhaps he’d give her another chance. She laughed. Now, that was ironic.

Chapter Seven
    Duff wished the small gym in his apartment building had a punching bag. He needed to pummel something to get the annoyance he had at himself out of his system. Running three miles hadn’t helped, and pumping iron wasn’t proving to work. All he’d done was cover the scent of sex with the stink of his sweat. He wondered, not for the first time, how a man who routinely succeeded in piloting expensive aircraft could screw up his personal life.
    With exercise a bust, he turned his thoughts to the other way he vanquished his emotions—flying and training pilots. He had no real reason to go to the base, but he headed that way as a reason to get out of his place. The bedroom reminded him of her, and when he straightened the sheets to make the bed her scent filled the small room. Even the bathroom got him thinking of Kirsten. He needed to surround himself with things that he could control, like green flight students and aircraft.
    Duff pushed open the wooden door, worn smooth by generations of airmen entering the ready room. He wasn’t preparing for a mission. Instead, flight students would get a lesson before taking to the skies in the trusty T-34s used for initial flight training. Mike Stone’s dark green flight suit stood out in the off-white room.
    “Didn’t expect you here.” Stone bobbed his head as a greeting.
    “Doing some thinking and found myself heading this way.” He and Stone hadn’t ever been good friends, but, like the old naval saying, any port in a storm. Right now, his personal life had reached a stormy seas stage. “Women.”
    The high beams of Stone’s teeth shined in the dim room.