Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“She’s gorgeous.” Damian pulled a lighter gray file from beneath a notepad and tossed it across the table. “I have a background on her too.”
Ace caught it but didn’t open it. His eyes lifted slowly. “You ran May.”
“Of course I ran May.”
“What’d you find?”
Damian’s gaze drifted briefly toward the window. “Not much. She grew up in a small town in Maine, which is probably why she likes Alaska. Parents, both deceased. No siblings. She worked her way through college and medical school while picking up scholarships. She doesn’t have much of a dating profile, but I imagine she was busy working two jobs and going to school. The pictures with Mercer are the first real public ones.”
Ace listened without opening the file yet. Hearing it out loud made it feel different. The office stayed quiet except for the faint rush of air from the vents.
“I did find two small newspaper articles,” Damian added. “She won awards for wildlife photography in high school. There’s another from between college and medical school.”
That tracked. She loved taking photographs. “You have pictures of her early work?”
“Yeah. Bottom of the file.”
Ace flipped straight to the back, skipping the personal notes. He didn’t want to read those. Not about May. He’d rather hear it from her, in her own words, in her own time. Paper slid beneath his fingers. “These are as good as her recent ones.” The first photograph showed two white-tailed deer caught mid-step. The next featured a great blue heron lifting into flight, its wings wide, and water scattering beneath it.
“Yep. She won first place at the county fair,” Damian noted.
“That’s kind of cool.” Ace found her truly likeable. “She gives her photographs to everyone in town. Should charge for them.” His gaze lingered on the heron. Something stirred unexpectedly inside him. He could fly her to some incredible places in Alaska—
He jerked his head up. Whoa. The thought of flying with her hit him hard enough to tighten his chest.
“What was that?” Damian watched him closely.
“Thought about flying again.” Ace didn’t hesitate. He never lied to his brothers.
Damian’s expression didn’t change. “Yeah. I heard you tried to go see Smitty.”
So much for privacy. “Brock is such a gossip.”
“It’s not gossip. He was thrilled about it.” Damian said. “We all are.”
Tension crawled along Ace’s shoulders. “I don’t know why.”
Damian studied him for a long moment. “You want to tell me about it?”
Ace cocked his head as his defensive reflexes kicked in. “Can’t you just pull my military file if you want?”
Damian pressed his fingertips together, forming a small pyramid with his large hands. The gesture was thoughtful and deliberate. “Probably. I’ve chosen not to.”
Ace blinked.
“I don’t want to infringe on your privacy,” Damian said quietly. “If I need to know something, I figure you’ll tell me.”
Warmth slid through Ace, and the tight knot behind his ribs loosened just a fraction. “I was in a crash outside of…” Ace rubbed a hand over his jaw, searching for the right entry point and not finding one he liked. “I got into a dogfight. Ejected. Hit the ocean. I was knocked out long enough to probably damage my brain a little.”
“Obviously,” Damian said quietly.
Ace rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” The words held no bite, just reflex. He stared at the floor for a beat and then forced himself to continue. “A friend of mine died just before that. I think that impacted me just as much.”
Damian didn’t rush him. He never did. “You should go see Smitty.”
“Yeah. I’ll try again.” Ace leaned back, tension settling into his shoulders. “I don’t know where he is.”
“It’s Smitty. He could be anywhere.”
Ace huffed a laugh, though it faded quickly.
“Or,” Damian continued, “we can take you to Anchorage. You could see an expert in PTSD. I know several. I could find you the best.”
“I’ll stick with Smitty,” Ace said.
“That’s what I figured.” Damian watched him with that infuriatingly perceptive gaze. “I do find it interesting you’re finally thinking about dealing with this.”
Ace cleared his throat. “It is summer.”
Damian tilted his head. “You asked me why we all want you back in the skies.” His eyes locked on Ace’s. “You belong there. That’s where you’re happy. Or happiest.”
Ace held his stare, then snorted softly. “You think if Hank had named me Albert, I wouldn’t want to fly?”
“No.” Damian’s mouth twitched. “I think flying’s in your blood, but your name does fit. Hank had a way of knowing somehow, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. I guess so.” Ace shrugged. “Or he just picked the easiest A, B, C, D names he could when the city made him give us names.”
“Could’ve gone either way,” Damian said, fondness threading through his tone.
The humor ebbed, leaving something quieter behind.
“I miss him,” Ace admitted.
“Me too.”
Silence settled between them. The mountain view stretched wide beyond the glass and summer light poured across the office. Clouds were gathering over the mountains, promising an oncoming storm. Another one.