Free A Midnight Clear by Emma Barry & Genevieve Turner Page A

commanded an aircraft carrier group in the Pacific—no doubt this was where Joe was supposed to push his ambitions forward. He picked up his drink instead and waited.
    “Off to Pensacola after graduation then?” The admiral sounded very pleased by the idea.
    Joe snuck a glance at Frances, but her expression was carefully blank. If she were upset at the thought of him leaving, he’d never know from her face.
    “If all goes well,” he allowed. Still nothing from Frances.
    A long stretch of silence, in which Joe felt like an actor who’d missed his lines. Was he supposed to say something more?
    “Um—”
    “Your C.O. tells me you’re ambitious,” the admiral said over him. Not aggressively—more like assessingly.
    “Well, I’d say every midshipman is ambitious.” Annapolis wasn’t someplace you flitted your way through.
    “You’re ranked in the top fifty in your class,” Admiral Dumfries said dryly.
    Frances sent him a look of pleased surprise tinged with apprehension, although he couldn’t figure out why.
    And how was he supposed to answer that? He was ranked in the top fifty, but he wasn’t going to boast about it. He put his glass to his lips, thinking to take a fortifying gulp, then thought better of it.
    A maid poked her head into the doorway. “Dinner is served.”
    No time to breathe a sigh of relief—it was on to the next trial . Joe set his glass down—he never did get a sip—and offered his arm again to Frances. She didn’t nestle as close to him this time, which was a shame.
    All four of them processed to the dining room. Joe held out a chair for Frances and tried not to fixate on the line of her neck as it dipped into the collar of her emerald green silk dress. He took the seat next to her, while Suzanne was settled in across from them. Naturally, the admiral was at the head of the table.
    They started off with a kind of soup that had nothing in it. Joe guessed it was consommé, although he’d never had it before. He took a test sip. Not bad. But he still preferred his soup with actual stuff in it, like a nice chowder.
    “Why’d you join the Navy?”
    That question from her father could be seen as small talk, but there was a jut to the man’s chin that put Joe on alert. The man meant to feel him out… some more. Fair enough.
    Joe squared his shoulders. “I grew up in Maine. Spent a lot of time on a boat.” He could almost smell the salt in the wind in his memories. “When the war broke out, I was too young to join, but I still wanted to do my part. As soon I was old enough, I knew the Navy was for me. My way to serve our nation.”
    He flicked a glance at Frances, to see her reaction to his mention of service. She was studying him closely, her attention on him almost as sharp as her father’s.
    “But aviation is your service selection.”
    Joe turned back to the admiral. “Yes, sir. When I got in the cockpit of the school’s biplane, I knew what I was put on this earth to do.” He gave Frances a significant look. “It’s rare when a man receives such a sign. He’s got to listen to it.”
    The expression on her face made his heart go double time—she understood what he’d meant, that he was speaking of her as well.
    And she perhaps felt the same.
    “My daughter’s never brought home a midshipman before.” But the admiral sounded less grudging than before. Maybe Joe was making some headway. “So I must guess this is serious.”
    “I’m serious about your daughter’s happiness, yes.” Joe held her father’s gaze, steady, true. Just like his feelings for Frances.
    “That says nothing. I’m talking about marriage.”
    “Frances and I haven’t discussed that yet.” Joe kept his voice as fixed as his gaze. “When she’s ready, we will.” No matter how eager he was to have that conversation with her, he’d wait for her. She deserved to decide for herself.
    “Hmphf.” There was the admiral’s annoyed noise again. “I suppose if you do marry her, you’ll expect