Goddess of the Sea by P. C. Cast Page A

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    Lashed to the floor at intervals of about six feet were the pallets of cargo CC had caught sight of from outside the plane. They filled the body of the cargo bay. Hesitantly, CC let her eyes travel to the other occupied seats, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that she could only see three of the six pilots. The cargo blocked her view of the others. CC sighed. As usual the plane was outfitted with little thought to human comfort. Hers appeared to be the last available seat—the rest were either folded up or already occupied. A young captain was seated a little way to her right. He was listening to a CD through headphones, and he had his head propped comfortably back on a pillow, but nodded a brief hello to her. Across from her and about three folded seats to the left she could see the colonel, who was obviously the pilots’ ranking officer. He was deep in a discussion with someone sitting to his right, but CC couldn’t see him because a stack of plastic-covered equipment blocked her view.
    The only other pilot she had a clear view of was sitting across the aisle from her and to her right. She glanced at him and caught him staring at her, and then was astounded to see a bright crimson blush rise into his well-defined cheeks.
    Good Lord, she thought. Why is he blushing? The man looked like a gorgeous statue come to life. She quickly looked away, but the sound of his voice made her eyes snap back to his.
    â€œUm, hello,” he said. His voice was deep, but he didn’t boom it at her like so many military men seemed to think they needed to. His eyes traveled up to the knot on her forehead.
    Great. No wonder he was blushing. He had obviously seen her bonk her head like a moron, and he was probably embarrassed for her.
    â€œI did the same thing on the way in,” he said and pointed to his own head, where a faint pink splotch painted a raised bump in the middle of his forehead.
    CC couldn’t have been more surprised if he had sprouted wings and laid an egg.
    â€œAnd I don’t even have the excuse that I’d just woken up and was still groggy. Mine, Sergeant Canady, was the result of plain clumsiness.”
    CC felt a genuine giggle bubble from her lips. The handsome pilot echoed her laugh.
    â€œPlease,” she said. “Call me CC.”
    â€œOkay CC. I’m Sean.”
    CC’s grin sobered. “Don’t you think I better call you Captain something?” It was fine for an officer to call an enlisted person by his or her first name, but the other way around was considered too familiar—and the air force sincerely frowned on too much familiarity between officers and sergeants. Even if the officers looked like living statues, CC thought regretfully.
    But Sean’s grin didn’t fade. “Actually, no. Like the rest of these guys, I’m stationed at the Air National Guard Unit in Tulsa, Oklahoma.” He leaned forward and glanced around like they were sharing a secret. “We do things a little differently in the Guard. So just plain Sean is okay with me.”
    CC didn’t know what to say. Of course she knew there was an Air Guard Fighter Unit in Tulsa—her Comm Center had sent and received messages from them several times during the past three months. But she’d never met any of the pilots. Actually, the only fighter pilots she’d ever met had been stationed at her last duty assignment, Peterson AFB, Colorado. They had been arrogant and conceited and had not impressed CC or her girlfriends at all. She couldn’t imagine any of them insisting she call them by their first names, at least not in daylight. Thankfully, she was saved from answering Sean by the appearance of the master sergeant who had herded her on to the plane.
    â€œOkay gentlemen,” he said, glancing at CC and adding, “and ladies. We’re fixin’ to get underway. I shouldn’t have to tell such a distinguished group to buckle up and