Sergeant Darling. Bonnie Gardner
around her shoulders, almost like a hug. She could smell the fragrance of his aftershave and the manly scent that was uniquely him on the fabric, but reluctantly, she shrugged the jacket off.
“Be sure to buckle up,” Ray said, and Patsy complied, happy to have something to do for the moment. Then he closed the door, and the vehicle got even smaller.
Or was it just her?
How long had it been since she’d sat alone in a car with a man?
She couldn’t remember when. Once the kids were born, she and Ace had never seemed to be alone.
“Would you like to listen to the stereo, or would you prefer to talk?” Ray asked as he inserted the key into the ignition.
“Music, I think,” Patsy said, then wondered if Ray would interpret that as a rejection. “I’m curious to see what kind you like. Not techno-metal, I hope,” she said, forcing a smile.
Ray made a face, and Patsy hoped it wasn’t because he did like that kind of music. “I’ll let you decide for yourself,” he said, turning the key. He let the car idle while he selected a CD from a case he’d stashed in the console.
He inserted the disk, and the soft strains of Carole King filled the air. Patsy hummed along as she listened. The selection surprised her, but then she thought, it shouldn’t have. Every time she’d come to a conclusion about Ray Darling, he’d countered it with something new. And she rather liked the surprises.
As they waited to turn onto Highway 98, the next song came on. Definitely not Carole King. Then she recognized it: Garth Brooks’s alter ego, Chris Gaines. She liked that song, too.
“I mix and burn my own CDs,” Ray explained as he accelerated along the dark highway.
“So, I guess that means you’re pretty good with computers, then.”
Ray grinned. “Love ’em. I’m the squadron expert, even if we actually do have techies on staff.” He chuckled. “That’s part of the reason they call me Radar.”
“Oh, then it’s not for Ray Darling?”
“No,” Ray said emphatically. “When I first got assigned to the squadron, I got a lot of ribbing because of my name. You don’t know how many times I got called just plain Darling.”
There was not one thing plain about him, Patsy thought. Not even when he wore glasses.
She smiled. “Oh, I can hear it now. I need to speak to you, dar-ling,” she said in a saccharine sweet tone. “Hand me that wrench, dar-ling.”
“Exactly. I had to come up with something that would distract the guys from my name. So I dazzled them with my computer skills.”
“I’m impressed,” Patsy said. “I can use the programs we have at the clinic, and I can word process and do e-mail, but that’s the extent of my computer literacy.”
“Well, some of those old guys, the ones close to retiring were really resistant when I first came in. You know, they were used to doing it one way, and they didn’t want to try anything new.” He chuckled. “I talked ’em into it real quick. Chief Mullins was the one who started calling me Radar. I think radar was one of the few technical things he was familiar with. It saved my butt. I was tired of getting into fights about being called darling.”
“I’m sure you could have handled them,” Patsy said. “You don’t look like you’d lose many fights.”
Ray smiled wryly in acknowledgment. “Unfortunately, my technical expertise didn’t do much for my airman proficiency ratings when they were countered by reports of those fights,” Ray said, frowning. “I think it kept me as a staff sergeant for an extra cycle, in spite of my test scores.”
Patsy had wondered why he hadn’t made technical sergeant yet. He certainly seemed worthy of the promotion.
“But I made it this round,” Ray continued. “I’m waiting to see when my number comes up. Don’t know whether I’ll make tech first or get selected for Officer Training School.”
Patsy arched an eyebrow, surprised to realize that somehow he’d managed to snag a college degree, a requirement for all OTS candidates. “You graduated from college? Was it the adult education college on the base?”
“No,” Radar answered sharply. “The University of Washington,” he clarified. Then he seemed to set his jaw as if he wanted no further conversation.
Okay, Patsy thought. If that was it, that was it. She settled back against the seat and listened to the music. Something from James Taylor this time.
RAY HADN’T HEARD anything from Patsy’s side of the car for a while, not that he could blame her for being quiet. He had been damned short with her. And for no good reason. At least, not one that she’d readily understand. How do you explain that you graduated from college at seventeen and then joined the air force to find out what it was like to be a real guy?
Hell, she might turn on him for wasting his education just as his parents had.
Why couldn’t anybody understand that the air force had been an education, too? And that he still had plenty of time to go on to graduate school. And when he did go, he’d be a lot better prepared for it than when he was a kid.
He glanced in Patsy’s direction. No wonder she’d been so quiet. She seemed to be sleeping.
Though he needed to keep his eyes on the road, he kept glancing Patsy’s way. She looked almost like a child with her arm resting against the passenger-side armrest and the hard glass window pillowing her head. So serene, so relaxed. So very kissable. Radar chuckled quietly to himself. He wondered if he’d ever get the chance.
No, not if. When.
Ray smiled to himself. Prickly Pritchard was sleeping with him. Okay, maybe not in the biblical sense, but it still struck him as funny. Every single guy at Hurlburt Field had been speculating about who would be the lucky guy to get through Prickly Patsy’s reserve, and he had. Too bad he couldn’t tell anybody.
Of course, he’d never kiss and tell. Not that they’d kissed yet, nor was there a guarantee that they ever would. And if he did, he doubted anybody would even believe him. Not Radar Darling, the sergeant most likely to…break his glasses.
He hummed along with the music and steered the car through the strip of tourist motels and across the Okaloosa Bridge, which took them into downtown Fort Walton Beach. He supposed he’d have to wake Patsy up now. Otherwise, he wouldn’t know where to take her.
He stopped at a red light, and nudged Patsy’s shoulder. He’d like to kiss her awake, but that wouldn’t work in the confines of the car. And it was presuming a lot more than he dared at this point in their relationship. Assuming it wasn’t an end.
Patsy jerked awake, obviously startled.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Ray said. “We’re back in town. I need to know where to take you.”
Patsy blinked, vaguely trying to register where she was and what she was doing in this car with Radar Darling. The red light blinked to green, and the car surged forward while Patsy struggled to clear her muddy thoughts.
“Make a right on Beal,” she said groggily, then stifled a yawn. “Then a left on Hollywood.”
“Roger that,” Radar said, executing the first turn.
“I apologize for nodding off on you,” Patsy said, stifling a yawn. “I was up late last night.”
“Did you work an extra shift at the hospital or something?”
Patsy had to laugh. “No, the job at the clinic is enough work. I just stayed up too late watching an old movie on television. I’m afraid it’s one of my worst weaknesses. Then I got up early to take Tripod to the vet.”
“Tripod?”
“My dog.”
Ray