Page 12 of Aviator
Inside, I hear a curse over the roaring wind and relax a little. Someone is home. The curse is followed by the heavy tread of boots, solid and steady. I know with absolute certainty that that stride belongs to the man I’m looking for. I plaster on a winning smile and muster up all the charm I can manage.
The door opens, revealing a hulking frame that fills my entire view. My charm evaporates. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man with a scowl so fierce it makes me want to turn around and run in the other direction. And I’m supposed to convince him to help me?
He’s even more striking than his pictures made him out to be. His short dark hair is recklessly tousled, and the thick beard and rugged mountain-man look are emphasized by his brutal masculinity and the hard set of his mouth. He wears ancient jeans and a chunky sweater that shows off his muscular frame. As he steps onto the porch, the snow beneath his heavy-duty boots makes a soft crunching sound. Those definitely aren’t designer anything. His gaze locks with mine, and his expression is tight with annoyance. My over-emphasized smile falls. . . and then I notice the gun.
I’m not sure if my knees are weak because I’ve never had a gun pointed at me. . . or because his brooding stare has me pinned to the spot.
I shrink back a little, my feet scraping against the wood planks. Then I give myself a mental shake, smile, and do a stupid little wave. If my cheeks aren’t already red from the cold, they sure are now. “Hey, Dean! You may not know me, but I’m Kady’s sister, Kennedy. Kenna. She and your friend Jamie have been dating for a while. Anyway, I’ve tried getting ahold of you. Do you even have a phone? Or maybe it’s out of service with all this weather and all?”
I run out of breath from talking so fast, and my huge smile dies a little more when he doesn’t say a word. Then he backs up and slams the door right in my face. Gawking at the glass, I emit a choked sound of objection. Then I knock again, a little louder and more insistent this time.
What an asshole.
My lips form into a stubborn line. If he thinks he’s going to get rid of me that easily, he’s got another thing coming. Because if there’s one thing I don’t do, it’s give up where my family’s concerned. I know he’s friends with Jamie—or used to be—and he’s a pilot in this area. Ergo, he’s the man I need to help find my sister.
Whether he wants to help me or not.
I pound on the door again. No answer. “Dean?! C’mon, Dean, open the door. I need to talk to you. Are you really going to let a woman freeze to death on your front porch? I’ll stay out here all damn day and night if I have to. You’ll wake up tomorrow with me as a human popsicle out here. But I guess that’s cool if you don’t mind disposing of my frozen corpse.” My words come out in white puffs. “Dean?”
More knocking.
He wrenches the door open, his ruggedly handsome face tight with fury. “Whatdo you want?” he asks, his voice gruff. His expression resembles a granite sculpture, his eyes chips of gray. The rifle is still thrown carelessly over his shoulder, intimidating even though it’s not aimed at me now. “You’ve got five minutes before I call the cops and have you dragged off my property.”
I swallow hard and take a step back, my hands trembling as I raise them in surrender. Of all the reactions I imagined on the way up here, having a gun pulled on me and being threatened with the cops certainly wasn’t one of them. I mean, Kady had said Jamie’s former teammates could be assholes, but I hadn’t really taken her too seriously. Aren’t all military guys assholes at heart? Scratch that. After the Garrett fiasco and now adding my dad and Jamie for good measure, I’m convincedallguys are assholes.
“I just wanted to talk,” I say, embarrassed to find my voice trembling. I’m not usually intimidated quite so easily. “I’m Kady’s—”
He cuts me off before I can finish. “I heard you the first time,” he says gruffly. He stares at me for a moment, his expression hard. Everything about him seems hard and unreachable. As cold as the wintery mountains surrounding us. “I don’t want to get involved. I don’t even know you.”
My mouth opens in shock as I process this. I shake my head, trying to find the words that seem to elude me. Finally, I manage to stutter out, “Can’t you just hear me out? Five minutes. Give me five minutes.” My winning smile once again has no effect on him. Geez, this guy is harder to charm than I thought. It’s as though he’s immune to any emotion, his own or otherwise.
Dean peers at me intently, his gaze burning into mine. After a few moments, he lowers the gun and leans it against the wall next to him. It says a lot about the man that having him put a gun away makes him feel a little more friendly. “I don’t know anything about your sister. I haven’t spoken to Jamie in years. When I said there’s nothing I can do for you, I meant it.” The finality in the statement would deter a lesser person. But if I survived staring down the barrel of that rifle, I could handle his grumpy-ass attitude.
Maybe begging will help? I’m not above it. Maybe a guy like him is into a little begging. I try to school my face into something more demure than the lava-hot determination smoldering in my gut. “Please, there’s no one else who will help me. The police won’t take her disappearance seriously because she’s an adult or some such nonsense, and Jamie may as well be a ghost. He has no social media whatsoever, and his phone isn’t working anymore. All I need is help searching around the cabin. I figured since you’re a pilot and all, you could fly me out there and help me look around. . .” My voice trails off as his scowl intensifies.
So much for the begging.
“I said there’s nothing I can do for you. Are you really going to make me call the cops?”
I bite my lip, wondering if it’s wise to press my luck any further. Still, I’m desperate for answers, and despite his insistence otherwise, I know he can help me. “What do I have to do to get you to help me?” I ask, dropping all pretense.
The silence between us grows, and he starts to shake his head when I hear an old man’s voice from inside the house. “Dean? Who’s that at the door? If it’s Margaret, tell her I don’t need no doctorin’ today. I feel fine. And you better not have called the rescue about Sunny because you aren’t getting rid of him, dammit. You may be faster than me, but I can still give you a good whuppin’.”
“It’s no one,” Dean shouts back, his expression daring me to say otherwise. I don’t say a word. Mostly because I get the impression Dean is protecting someone, which is the first hint I have that he cares about someone else. I hate myself for it, but this may be the soft spot I can prod a little to help my case. Not that the thought of doing that makes me feel particularly great, but a girl’s desperate.
There’s a pregnant pause before I hear footsteps approach the door. Dean scowls at an older man with white hair and soft gray eyes who appears beside him in the doorway. At least I’m not the only one on the receiving end ofthatlook.
“Why didn’t you tell me we had company?” he says gruffly but not unkindly. His breathing is so labored I can hear it over the howling wind. “And why didn’t you invite her in instead of letting her stand out in the freezing cold? Didn’t Nadine teach you better manners?”
I didn’t think it was possible, but Dean’s expression sours even more. I try to hide my smile behind my hand. Okay, so I’m enjoying the fact that I’m not the only uncomfortable one.
“She was just leaving,” Dean lies, and now it’s my turn to glare at him.
To the old man, I say, “Actually, I’m looking for my sister, Kady. She disappeared a few days ago, and the police aren’t doing anything about it. I think she might have gone to her boyfriend Jamie’s family cabin nearby, and I was hoping Dean could help me look for her since he and Dean used to be friends. And since he can fly and all.”
The old man starts coughing, and Dean steps forward, scowling. “I told you there’s nothing we can do. This weather is only going to get worse. Going out there now would be a suicide mission.”
“Now hold on,” his grandfather says, “Don’t go jumpin’ to conclusions until you hear what this gal has to say.” He turns back to me and gestures for me to come inside. Dean stifles a frustrated groan. I smile at him, then beam at his grandfather. If looks could kill, I’d be dead and buried.
