Love at First Flight by Marie Force Page B

sweats.
    “Aren't you going to talk to me?” she
asked between sobs.
    “I'm all done talking. You need to go to
your room.”
    “You're not breaking off this
engagement, Michael.”
    “I'm quite certain I already did.”
    “ You
can't! ” she wailed.
    He picked up her robe off the floor and
threw it at her. “Get dressed. Right now. I've had enough for tonight.” He
watched her work up a head of steam as she pulled on the robe.
    “I don't know who you think you're
dealing with, but you are not just
walking away from me after four years like I mean nothing to you.”
    “I know exactly who I'm dealing with—a spoiled, pampered brat. You're not
going to push me around or push me into a job I don't want. And you're certainly not going to push me into a
marriage I no longer want.”
    She slapped his face. Hard. “You son of
a bitch.”
    His hand rolled into a fist at his side.
“Get out,” he said in a low tone that left no room for negotiation. “ Get the fuck out!”
    After she slammed the door behind her,
he did some-thing he should have done earlier: he reached for his cell phone to
call a cab. He threw on clothes, packed his bag, and went down the stairs into
the quiet house.
    Admiral Simpson appeared in the
darkness. “Going somewhere, Michael?”
    “I'm going home.”
    “Are you sure you want to do that?”
    “I'm positive.”
    “So when Paige said you'd called off the
engagement she wasn't being dramatic?”
    “No.”
    “You might want to think twice about
that.”
    “Are you threatening me?”
    “Of course not. I'm just wondering if
you're seeing the big picture.”
    “And what would that be?”
    “What will Tom Houlihan think of having
a man on his team who doesn't keep his promises? Have you thought about that?”
    “You know what? I don't give a rat's ass
what Tom Houlihan thinks about my private life. Feel free to give him a call.”
    The cab driver tooted the horn.
    The Admiral gave Michael the steely
stare that had intimidated legions of sailors, but it had no effect on him. Not
anymore. “You're not the man I thought you were, Michael.”
    “That's funny because you're exactly the man I thought you were. Take
care, Admiral.”
    Michael checked into a hotel near the
airport and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. He woke up late the next
morning, the events of the day before replaying in his mind. And then he
smiled. He was free—of Paige and her parents and their endless manipulation.
Imagining his mother dancing a jig at the news of his broken engagement, he
laughed.

CHAPTER 8
     
    ON THE WAY TO THE AIRPORT ON SUNDAY
AFTERNOON, Jeremy and Juliana stopped for seafood in Jacksonville Beach. The
day was warm so they sat on a deck overlooking the ocean.
    After they ate, Jeremy reached across
the table for her hand. “What are we going to do, babe?”
    Juliana took a long sip of her wine, put
the glass down on the table, and met his gaze. “We're breaking up. For now.”
She had promised herself she wouldn't cry.
    “What?” he asked, startled.
    “Three months. We won't talk to or see
each other for three months.”
    “Juliana—”
    “I've thought about what you said.”
    “I want you to forget what I said.”
    “I can't. And we can't go forward with
it between us. You were right about something yesterday.”
    “What's that?”
    “Neither of us has ever been with anyone
else, so how can we know for sure that what we have will last?”
    “It's lasted ten years. That has to
count for something.”
    She squeezed his hand. “It does. But
like you said, how do we even know that we're having good sex?”
    “You can say that after last night?”
    “I'm just agreeing with you, Jer. That's
all.”
    “Why three months? Why not one or two?”
    “Because anything less wouldn't be
enough time.”
    He thought it over for a moment. “Supposing
I agree to this, what are the rules?”
    “No rules. We're both single and can do
whatever we want.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “But you're