Hard Landing
Hard Landing
MacLarens of Fire Mountain
Contemporary
SHIRLEEN DAVIES
Book Two in the MacLarens of Fire Mountain
Contemporary Series
Copyright © 2014 by Shirleen Davies
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
For permission requests, contact the publisher.
Avalanche Ranch Press, LLC
PO Box 12618
Prescott, AZ 86304
Hard Landing is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used facetiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is wholly coincidental.
Cover artwork by idrewdesign
Book design and conversions by Joseph Murray at 3rdplanetpublishing.com
Description
Hard Landing, Book Two in the MacLarens of Fire Mountain Contemporary Romance Novella Series
Trey MacLaren is a confident, poised Navy pilot. He’s focused, loyal, ethical, and a natural leader. He is also on his way to what he hopes will be a lasting relationship and marriage with fellow pilot, Jesse Evans.
Jesse has always been driven. Her graduation from the Naval Academy and acceptance into the pilot training program are all she thought she wanted—until she discovered love with Trey MacLaren . . .
Trey and Jesse’s lives are filled with fast flying, friends, and the demands of their military careers. Lives each has settled into with a passion. At least until the day Trey receives a letter that could change his and Jesse’s lives forever.
It’s been over two years since Trey has seen the woman in Pensacola. Her unexpected letter stuns him and pushes Jesse into a tailspin from which she might not pull back.
Each must make a choice. Will the choice Trey makes cause him to lose Jesse forever? Will she follow her heart or her head as she fights for a chance to save the love she’s found? Will their independent decisions collide, forcing them to give up on a life together?
Hard Landing is the second book in the MacLarens of Fire Mountain Contemporary novella series—heartwarming stories of difficult choices, loyalty, and lasting romance. Watch for book three, One More Day, Cameron and Lainey’s story, in the summer of 2014.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to Richard, who continues to inspire and encourage me.
Acknowledgements
Thanks also to my editor, proofreader, Sue Hutchens, and all of my beta readers. Their insights and suggestions are greatly appreciated.
Finally, many thanks to my wonderful resources, including Diane Lebow, who has been a whiz at guiding my social media endeavors, my cover designer, idrewdesign, and Joseph Murray who is a whiz at formatting my books for both print and electronic versions.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
About the Author
MacLarens of Fire Mountain Books
Prologue
Pensacola, Florida
“You’ve got to get out sometime, MacLaren. Can’t just hole up in this room all day and night, waiting to leave for Texas.” Ryan “Reb” Cantrell, Trey MacLaren’s roommate and best friend—since their initial days at the Naval Academy—was always up for a party. Trey took it easier. He was more discerning in his choice of both entertainment and women. They’d finished the basic pilot training program in Florida and now waited for transportation to advanced training in Texas.
“Thought I’d just hang out on the base, go to the club, and pack in early.”
“Look, Cowboy,” Reb said, using Trey’s nickname, “we’re leaving this gig in a few days and it’s Saturday night—let’s head into town, get rowdy, and have fun. It’s time to p-a-r-t-y,” Reb drawled in his pronounced southern accent.
Trey sat back and considered his friend’s determination to get him out. Reb was probably right. A night away from the base, relaxing, might be good. Besides, he liked the city near the gulf.
An hour later, the two sat in an upscale bar near the water, eating dinner and sipping beers. There was a small dance floor with a sign telling patrons a band would start at eight. It was a nice place. Lights on the deck were pointed toward the water, and the sound of the surf could be heard through the open back doors.
By eight-thirty, the place was starting to fill. Trey and Reb were on their third beers when a group of young women came bounding in, taking a table just feet away from the men and ordering a pitcher of margaritas. The music was going strong, with five or six couples on the floor and a few singles.
Every few minutes the table of six women would erupt into laughter. Trey watched, noting that they all were pretty—a couple of them truly stunning—especially one with long, dark brown hair that fell to her waist. Her eyes glistened as they traveled around the table from one friend to another. She was telling a story, using her hands, sometimes pushing up from her seat, then sitting back down to gesture with her hands again before everyone burst out laughing.
He wasn’t sure what propelled him, but Trey found himself standing by her chair, offering his hand.
“Would you care to dance?” he asked.
She looked up, noting his uniform and confident air. Normally she stayed away from men in flight training, knowing they’d be gone within a year. They weren’t part of the community, and would never embrace the panhandle life of Pensacola—her home.
“Sure,” she answered, surprising herself.
“I’m Trey.”
“Sydney,” she responded, as they walked to the dance floor.
They danced one dance, then two, laughing and making small talk while they moved to the music. Reb was sitting at the lady’s table, along with a couple of other men, when Trey returned Sydney to her chair.
“Take a seat, Trey.” Reb reached behind him and grabbed one of the few available chairs. “These women are all from here and have been filling us in on the hot spots.” Reb grinned as he took a sip of his beer.
Trey didn’t want to dampen the mood by reminding his friend that they would be in Pensacola in just a few more days—why ruin a good buzz? He plopped himself into the chair and signaled for another beer.
An hour passed, then two. Trey wasn’t sure how many drinks he’d had, which was unusual for a man who wasn’t a big drinker. About midnight, the group moved from the bar to a large house on the water. Sydney told him it was owned by one of the girls—part of her recent divorce.
The party ramped up and continued at a fast pace, Trey never straying far from Sydney. A group of new arrivals joined the party, offering cocaine to everyone, which Trey, Reb, and most of the others, including Sydney, declined.
Trey led Sydney outside, grabbed a large towel, and walked onto the sand. He dropped her hand long enough to set down his bottle of beer and spread the towel out, then eased her down next to him.
“This is a beautiful place.” Trey relaxed, pulle
d his knees up, and rested his arms on them. “Do you work around here?” Sydney had already told him she’d gone to school at Florida State, then returned to Pensacola.
“I’m a paralegal for a small firm in town. Great people, and the workload keeps me busy.” She glanced his way, noting again his strong features, silky midnight-colored hair, and striking blue eyes. She’d felt her heart skip a beat when he’d first asked her to dance, causing Sydney to almost decline his invitation. Now, she was glad she’d accepted. Sydney couldn’t recall the last time she’d enjoyed a night more. “Do you leave soon?”
He pursed his lips, for the first time wishing he had a few more days before his departure. “Any day now. Just waiting for transportation to Texas.”
“Yeah, I know.” She caught his surprised look. “All pilots leave for someplace else after a few months.”
“You’ve watched a lot of them pass through Pensacola?” Trey didn’t care if she’d dated one or two-hundred pilots—at least that’s what he told himself.
Her laugh rang out, breaking the quiet night air. “Believe it or not, you’re the first.” She watched him tilt his head as his brows drew together. “This is my home. A part of life in Pensacola is knowing that new groups of pilots come and go all the time. Most never return. You learn early not to form friendships or get involved with any of them.” She took a sip of her drink and focused on the water in front of them.
He considered her words, understanding Sydney’s need to be cautious and keep an emotional distance. Trey had accepted the reality of life as a Navy pilot when he’d put in for flight training, detaching himself from any emotional ties with the women he met. He finished his beer and stood, reaching out his hand to help Sydney up.
She started to pick up the towel but stopped when Trey set his hands on her shoulders and turned her to him. His clear, bright blue eyes darkened as his gaze held hers.
Trey brushed the back of his hand down her face and felt her lean into his touch. He moved strands of hair behind her ear, then ran his hands through her thick, long tresses, feeling the silky texture, and watching her light brown eyes as he lifted her face to his. Trey leaned down, touching his lips to hers—once, then twice—before capturing her mouth with his.
Sydney knew she should push away, stop this nonsense before she did something she’d regret. She wasn’t a one-night stand person, and there was no doubt that this was a one-night stand man who held her. Attractive, smart, and funny, but a one-night stand all the same. Knowing this, she still leaned into him, running her hands up his arms, encircling his neck, holding him tight.
Trey shifted his mouth one way, then another, pulling Sydney close, and holding her to him with a strong hand on her back and one in her hair. Her soft moan encouraged him, and he began to explore her through her lightweight clothing.
She wanted this man with an intensity she’d never felt with anyone before. At twenty-five, she’d survived a broken engagement, and hadn’t been with a man since. Tonight, she was ready to break all of her own rules.
He pulled back, searching her eyes, looking for an answer to his unspoken question.
“There are bedrooms upstairs,” Sydney whispered, her voice ragged, lips swollen.
“You’re sure this is what you want?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Trey didn’t wait any longer.
He wrapped Sydney’s hand in his and let her lead him up the spiral staircase to a large bedroom at the back of the house. He pushed the door closed, gripped Sydney around the waist, and drew her to him, claiming her mouth once again.
Their movements were almost frantic as their hands glided over each other. Trey lifted her into his arms, never breaking the contact of his mouth on hers, and carried her to the bed. Within minutes they lay entangled in the humid night air.
He pulled away, reached for his slacks and removed a small packet. “Sydney, be certain on this. If you want me to stop, I will.” It took all of Trey’s effort to ask her again, but he needed to be sure.
“Yes, I want this, Trey.” Sydney reached up and pulled him to her.
They continued through much of the night, then fell asleep to the sounds of the water lapping the shore.
Time passed, and before Trey knew it, light pierced through the openings in the wooden shutters. Sydney stayed sound asleep as Trey dressed. He looked down at her with a feeling of regret. A small smile curved his lips as he bent down to smooth back errant strands of her dark brown hair, and placed a kiss on her forehead.
He considered leaving a note, then thought better of it. They’d both known it was just one night. Trey took a deep breath, walked to the door, and looked back once more before closing the door behind him.
Chapter One
Kingsville, Texas
Fourteen months later
“Congratulations,” the Admiral boomed out to the men and women seated before him. “You have earned the right to call yourselves Naval Aviators.”
A burst of shouting and applause followed his statement. Later, the winging ceremony would be held at the Captain’s Club. Orders to their individual fleet replacement squadrons would follow within a few days.
“Well, my man, we made it.” Reb clapped Trey on the shoulder before turning to the third person who made up the three stooges, as he liked to refer to them. He grabbed Jesse in a bear hug and swung her around. She was one of two women to make it through and receive her wings of gold. Reb set her down as Trey slid past him to grab her.
“Congratulations, Jess.” He leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek and wrap her in a hug. Few people knew that he and Jess had started to see each other over the last few months. Trey had always liked her, from the first moment they’d met at the Naval Academy years before. She’d grown into a stunning woman and one of the best pilots in the group. He was crazy about her.
Another good friend, Paul Henshaw, walked up and congratulated each of them.
“All right,” Reb shouted. “To the club!”
Two hours later, each pilot had their wings, pictures had been taken, and they were free to celebrate in their own way. Some were married and headed home to party in private—others stayed on base or journeyed forty minutes to Corpus Christi to find a rowdy bar and enjoy their accomplishment. Reb joined the second group. Trey and Jesse opted for a nice restaurant and beautiful hotel room. Theirs would definitely be a private celebration.
******
Each of the four held orders in their hands—none had dared to open them. They hoped for assignments on the same base. Trey looked at Reb, then Paul, and finally Jesse.
“Ready?” he asked.
Each nodded. All three opened their orders and read the contents.
“California,” Reb said.
“California,” Jess smiled, then turned to Trey, her stomach tightening, praying she’d hear what she wanted.
Trey glanced at her, but there was no hint of a smile. His face was impassive. He looked back down at his orders. Her heart sank.
“California,” he finally said and grinned.
“Damn you, MacLaren,” Jess screamed before punching him in the arm and launching herself at him.
“Looks like we leave tomorrow.” Reb turned to Paul, hoping he had the same orders. “So, where you headed?”
“California,” Paul answered, his usual taciturn expression in place. Not one to show emotion, except for the occasional growl, which let everyone know something displeased him.
All four had been in the top of their class and all had requested the same base in California. They’d begin the nine-month training then be assigned to specific squadrons.
Reb turned to the others. “Guess we have to take this lazy ingrate with us,” he joked, and slapped Paul on the back.
Three days later, they stood with the rest of the new arrivals at the large air base in central California. The four had chosen to rent a large home off base. The only rule—no pilot speak allowed. This was their place to unwind and live like normal people, no
t jacked-up fighter jocks.
Each had their own bedroom, although most nights Trey and Jess slept together. They hadn’t spoken of anything permanent. Each still had several years’ commitment to the Navy. Although it was clear they were devoted to and loved each other, their careers made marriage a hard choice.
“Where to this weekend?” Reb asked on a Friday morning as they drove to the base. The other nice aspect of sharing a house, besides sharing rent, was the ability to car-pool most days. Trey had always owned a big truck and couldn’t imagine life without one.
“It’s a three-day weekend, so I thought we’d fly to my family’s ranch in Arizona. Unless, of course, you have other plans.”
“We get to ride in the family jet?” Reb asked.
“Of course,” Trey answered, as he concentrated on the traffic merging into the base entrance.
“I’m in,” Paul said, then clamped his mouth shut.
The others in the truck just glanced at him. Those were the first words he’d spoken all day.
“Sounds good to me. When do we leave?” Reb finished the last of his to-go coffee and set the mug on the floor of the back seat.
“Robert Denton, our pilot, will be ready for us at three this afternoon. You won’t need much, so pack light. Include boots.”
******
Fire Mountain, Arizona
Reb had been to the ranch before and knew the drill. It wasn’t too dissimilar from the Navy—early days and early nights—except they’d be modifying the schedule somewhat to include late nights.
Neither Jesse nor Paul had ever been able to visit, although both had received invitations. Heath MacLaren, Trey’s father, picked them up from the airport at four-thirty.
“Hey, Dad.” Trey dropped his bag and wrapped his father in a tight hug.
“Good to see you, Son.” He turned to the others. “Reb, glad you could come.” He shook hands with the young man he’d met once before.
“Jesse, Paul, this is my father, Heath MacLaren.” Trey watched as everyone said their hellos, then loaded their gear into the large SUV Heath had borrowed from his brother, Jace.