Page 20 of Emma's Element

She nodded. “I have an early day tomorrow. It’s getting late.”

His shoulders drooped. “Okay. Goodnight then. Drive safe.” He leaned in closer to her, and for one wild moment, Emma’s heart thudded heavily, thinking he intended to kiss her, but his lips landed on her cheek and not on where she craved feeling his touch.

“Goodnight.” Emma turned, her hand landing on the doorknob as he reached around her to unlock the deadbolt. His arm brushed her shoulder, and she fought to contain the shiver, even as her senses were bombarded with his cedar piney goodness. She opened the door, allowing the blessedly cold air to cool her flaming cheeks.

“Text me when you get home, so I know you made it safely,” he called to her as she headed to her car. She waved to let him know she heard him but couldn’t have found her voice if her life had depended on it. She managed to get in her car and backed out of his driveway before the tears started to fall. The next time she was with him, she needed to remember who she was. But more importantly, she needed to remember whohewas. The unattainable.

Chapter eight

Marcusneverimaginedhe’dbe half hanging out the side of a helicopter on a crisp winter day in Michigan, but here he was. The Nighthawks had spent the morning training him for SAR missions from the air. With Finch at the controls, they soared over land and lake, respectively. Logan, Jude, and Tin Man took turns instructing him in the finer points of debris field searches and evaluation while flying in a grid pattern. It had been fascinating to learn the nuances of a search from the air compared to a land search.

They’d flown over an area where a small plane had gone down months ago. While the wreckage had been removed, the damage left behind was still visible. He’d been able to discern the area where the plane had sheered off the tops of the trees, as well as the large gouge in the land where the aircraft had come to rest.

Marcus took in the view while they traveled. The silvery ribbon of the St. Joseph River as it snaked across the land. The patchwork squares of farmland that lay dormant waiting for the spring plantings. The dense forests filled with those quiet wooden sentinels whose bare branches reached towards the sky. Then came the sprinklings of civilization. Older, established neighborhoods surrounded by newer, more organized spaces with their cookie-cutter houses. It all looked so peaceful from hundreds of feet in the air.

While flying over the lake, Finch had pointed out a shipwreck. The ice built up on the lake was not as massive as years past due to warmer than average temperatures. Therefore, the wreck was visible from the air in the crystal clear water. Marcus spotted a Coast Guard ship, and his thoughts turned to Emma.

She’d had classes to teach and had left him in the men’s capable hands. While he loved learning from Emma, he couldn’t help but soak in everything the former military warriors had to teach him. And yet, having not seen her for a few days, he missed her with an ache in his chest that surprised him.

Arriving at their training site, Marcus tore his mind off of Emma to focus on the instruction for the winch hoist. He’d been in too much pain to notice the process when they’d rescued him, so he was anxious to observe how it worked. Logan, then Jude, were lowered to the ground; the former would act the part of the victim. Tin Man showed him how to hook the men up and drop them slowly, followed by the basket.

Tin Man took him through the procedures once, then it was his turn. After double-checking he had his safety line clipped in, Marcus had one foot on the skid of the helicopter while he leaned out to watch as the basket slowly drew closer, Logan laying inside. Marcus had one hand loosely wrapped around the cable and the other on the controls. He concentrated on his efforts. Too fast or too slow could spell disaster. Even with the excellent instruction and Tin Man hovering nearby to step in if needed, Marcus still found himself sweating profusely as the basket rose. Once it was close enough, he grabbed it and hauled it inside the helicopter, releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding since he’d activated the winch to hoist Logan.

After the basket, and subsequently Logan, were secure, they went through the process of training him on a double winch rescue, a procedure where the victim and the rescue specialist are hoisted together. Marcus was lowered to the ground and began to slip the rescue sling around Jude, the obligatory victim. He secured Jude as he was taught, and soon the two of them were being lifted into the air.

Marcus had used wires often during his stunts for his movies, but this was an entirely different experience. For one, he wasn’t usually hooked in with someone else whose safety was in his hands, but he also had never experienced the intense rotor wash from the helicopter while being hauled up. As the ground steadily grew farther away, he took a moment to take in the view. There was something special about seeing the land from above.

Before he knew it, Tin Man had slowed the winch as they approached the skids to ensure they didn’t hit their heads on them. Even helmeted, he knew that would hurt.

Once safely inside and strapped back into their seats, Finch turned the aircraft towards the Nighthawk complex. The guys praised his success, impressed that he hadn’t balked at doing the hard work. And Marcus knew, if Emma had been with them, he would see her pride shining in her dark eyes.

As if he could read his thoughts, Logan asked, “How’re things going with Emma?”

They each wore helmets with a built-in communication system, so he had no problem discerning the query. A smile tipped his lips unbidden. “Things have been great. She’s amazing. I’ve learned so much from her.” His smile slowly dropped into a frown remembering how they’d left things the other night.

Tin Man chuckled. “Uh-oh. I know that look. That smile dropped quicker than a stripper’s clothes.”

“What the fuck, man?” Jude huffed. “What kind of analogy is that?”

“Shut it,” Tin Man admonished, before turning his attention back to Marcus. “There’s only one reason a man’s smile drops that fast while thinking of a lady. You said or did something stupid.”

“What’d you do to fuck up?” Finch pried.

“Nothing. At least I don’t think I did anything.”

“Yup, you fucked up,” Tin Man affirmed.

“The fact that you don’t know what you did clearly states that you fucked up,” Finch agreed. Jude and Logan just shook their heads as the other two men discussed the finer qualities of a fuck up.

“So, lay it out for us.”

“Yeah, walk us through your last interaction with her,” ordered Finch.

Marcus sighed, they weren’t going to let this go. He never imagined they would be worse gossips than the female celebrities he’d known. “Fine. We were having dinner together. She’d asked me how my screenplay was going, and I told her I was thinking of giving it up.”

The four men reacted much the same way Emma had, with disbelief. “Why would you want to do that?” Tin Man asked.

“I don’t know. After getting to know you all, it seemed disrespectful.”

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