Love Under Two Flyboys [The Lusty Texas Collection] Read online

  Lusty, Texas 4

  Love Under Two Flyboys

  When she emergency lands her uncle’s new plane at their airfield, Tamara Jones reluctantly agrees to accept Morgan and Henry Kendall’s help in getting the Piper fixed. She may even indulge in some fun and games with the two sexy flyboys, but she knows there’s no way they could really be aiming for forever.

  The brothers Kendall fire her jets, but she knows better than to trust in love. Blood will tell, and there’s no way she wants to end up like her parents, racking up exes at the speed of sound.

  It doesn’t take Morgan and Henry long to understand that Tamara has commitment issues. With enough time, they know they can show her they all have what it takes for the long haul.

  But then a stranger comes to town, and there are questions about the plane she arrived in, and soon keeping her takes a back seat to keeping her safe.

  Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys

  Length: 60,404 words

  LOVE UNDER TWO FLYBOYS

  Lusty, Texas 4

  Cara Covington

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  LOVE UNDER TWO FLYBOYS

  Copyright © 2011 by Cara Covington

  E-book ISBN: 1-61034-511-8

  First E-book Publication: June 2011

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

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  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Love Under Two Flyboys by Cara Covington from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

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  DEDICATION

  To my beloved, whose ongoing love, understanding, and support allow me to continue to follow my dream.

  LOVE UNDER TWO FLYBOYS

  Lusty, Texas 4

  CARA COVINGTON

  Copyright © 2011

  Chapter 1

  Tamara Jones’s heart bumped in her chest as the plane’s engine coughed. Her gaze snapped to the instrument panel. Had the red stall light just flashed on?

  She couldn’t be sure. The engine sounded fine, now. Hopefully that was a one-off glitch, an air bubble in the fuel line. She’d conducted the best pre-flight check that she could, but the PA 25-35 Pawnee B had sat in storage for several months. If she’d had her druthers, she’d have done an extensive maintenance service on the bird before taking to the air.

  That hadn’t been an option.

  Mr. Smith had wanted the plane out of his barn ASAP. She had no idea why, and if the man hadn’t been an old friend of her Uncle Goodwin’s, she would have run, not walked, away from what felt like a very questionable deal.

  You know that’s not true. Tamara sighed. Her uncle had been so excited about buying this plane, about the crop-dusting business they were going to start together. She couldn’t deny him anything, not considering the way he’d taken her in when she’d been an angry, rebellious sixteen-year-old. Though getting on in years, Uncle Goodwin still had a zest for living. He’d been particularly pleased that they were going into this new business project together.

  Tamara had to admit she had good vibes about the idea herself, despite her uncle’s record of not staying with any previous venture for more than a couple years. Of course, who was she to talk? She hadn’t held a job longer than six months, herself. Her gene pool was missing the stick-to-it gene from both sides of her family—evidenced by the fact her mother was on husband number four while her father didn’t even bother to marry any of the many bimbos he shacked up with these days.

  Tamara shook her head to dislodge thoughts of her parents. She hadn’t seen either of them for more than a year, and that was just fine with her. Inhaling deeply, she let herself take a moment to enjoy the beautiful sunshine and blue sky surrounding her. Barely any clouds marred the perfection of this Texas November day. According to that morning’s weather report, the temperature would hit the high sixties by afternoon, with no sign of rain on the horizon.

  It was a perfect day for flying.

  The engine coughed again, and Tamara’s stomach clenched. That one was worse than the first one, giving the plane, and her, a good jolt in the process.

  She flicked her glance down at her watch. She’d taken off from just west of Abilene over an hour ago, on her way to her home outside of San Marcos, a trip of just over two hundred miles.

  That put her midway between, and in the middle of freaking nowhere, judging by all the open range below her. Brow furrowed, she scanned the instrument panel. Nothing indicated any problem, so—

  The Piper’s engine coughed again, followed by a series of sputters and rumbles. And then the engine died completely.

  “Damn it!” Tamara’s heart raced. The red stall light sure as hell was shining now. Great. Just great. She’d hoped to sneak this plane home, under the radar, because Uncle Goodwin didn’t have all the paperwork for the deal yet. All she needed was to ditch the plane and bring the FAA down on her head for not filing a flight plan.

  Of course, if I crash I’ll likely be dead, so what am I worried about?

  Tamara pushed away the morbid thought and focused on looking for a smooth piece of pasture to la
nd on. Something long and gray caught her attention. She blinked, wondering if her panicking mind had conjured just what she needed, just when she needed it. But no, that really was an airstrip ahead and to the southeast.

  She adjusted her course and willed herself to stay calm. Flicking her gaze between the altimeter, air speed, and attitude gages, she gripped the stick with both hands and aimed for that runway.

  The Piper wasn’t very big, and it really was in better shape than some planes she’d flown.

  Soo not true. Hello? The engine has stalled. Major splat imminent.

  Tamara sought to override the smart-ass portion of her brain with logic. The single-engine plane weighed less than a ton, empty. She kept reminding herself that meant with the help of some wind currents, gliding this bitch to the ground was absolutely possible. Even if that was something she’d never done before.

  Time slowed, a surreal sensation she’d heard about but never experienced. She didn’t think. She simply reacted. Nose up to slow the plane, check altitude. Attitude good, level on the horizon. Hold it steady, yeah, watch the numbers drop, that’s it, a bit more, reduce speed, reduce speed. Glance up at gauges, check altitude, attitude, verify approach to landing strip, check gauges again. Good. All is good. Closer, closer now, come on, baby, reduce speed.

  The plane was going a little faster than she’d like, but then time ran out.

  Grass whizzed past in her peripheral vision as she brought the Piper down that last little bit. The tires bumped the edge of the runway, sending the small plane aloft on a gentle bounce that put her heart in her throat. One iota more pressure on the stick, and the tires bumped the tarmac again, this time staying down. Tamara braked slowly, resisting the urge to jump on the binders with both feet, an action that could conceivably send her and the plane toppling ass-over-teakettle.

  The plane slowed, and then finally came to a silent stop.

  “Thank God.” Tamara closed her eyes and let her head fall forward to rest on her hands that still gripped the controls. The tidal wave of relief left her momentarily drained and unable to move. Spots swam behind her closed eyes, and she realized she was holding her breath. The thought she might actually faint kicked her into action.

  No way in hell I’m going to do anything so predictably female as faint. Tamara inhaled deeply. A slight acrid smell stung her nostrils. She looked but could see no sign of smoke rising around her.

  In one jerk she disengaged her seat belt, and then pushed open the cockpit door. Since the plane had a total height of just over seven feet, she easily slipped out of the pilot’s seat to the ground.

  Terra firma. She felt so giddy she nearly got to her knees to kiss the ground. That last spurt of relief galvanized her. Slamming the door, she rounded the wing and headed toward the engine compartment. The Piper either had some massively clogged fuel lines or it had suffered a major engine malfunction. Either way, Tamara had a potential mess on her hands.

  She took in the area around her, including the hangars and one building under construction about a quarter mile or so to the south. As she watched, a couple of people ran toward a Jeep parked beside one of the hangars.

  Tamara shook her head. “Okay, let’s see what we have happening under your hood, you bitch.” Relief had given way to anger and anxiety.

  She had no doubt whatsoever that Jeep would be heading her way. She just hoped whoever the hell those folks were, they didn’t work for the FAA.

  * * * *

  Morgan took in the progress they’d made in two short days. Since the concrete pad they’d had poured last week had cured, they’d spent the past Sunday and Monday erecting some of the walls. The smell of fresh lumber filled his senses. It gripped him for just a moment, the realization that, by the end of the month, their brand-new business, Kendall Aviation, would have a permanent home and, hopefully, be up and running.

  “It’s really taking shape.” He turned to his brother Henry.

  “It is. I didn’t know how I’d actually feel, returning to civilian life after so long in the Air Force. But you know what? On a day like today, brilliant sunshine and a mild autumn breeze, and our new hangar starting to take shape, I finally feel as if everything is going to work out for us.”

  Morgan felt one eyebrow go up. “Now that confession of self-doubt surprises me. You’re usually always so glib.”

  Henry grinned. “What can I say? It’s a gift. But I do have my moments of self-doubt.”

  Morgan snorted. “Yeah, like once every decade?” Then he turned his attention back to the partially constructed hangar. “Jordan called this morning. He’ll be arriving sometime tonight. He’s looking to hire someone to give us a hand so we can get this finished by the end of the month.”

  “He likes to take his annual vacation in December, if I recall,” Henry said.

  Their second-youngest brother, Jordan, ran a successful construction company based out of Waco.

  “I figure between the two of us, plus Jordan and another person, and our cousins here and there, we should have this done on schedule, no problem.”

  “Well, I’ll agree with you, but only if we can manage to head off Uncle Caleb and Uncle Jonathan between now and then.”

  Morgan laughed. “You have to admire their industry,” he said. “I hope I’m as energetic as them when I’m their age.”

  “Me, too, but I’d like to admire those traits from afar, if you don’t mind. You know, I listened to our cousins complain about their dads needing a hobby, but I didn’t fully understand the sentiment then the way I do now.”

  “They did need a hobby, and starting up Benedict-Murphy Investigations with Colt and Ryder’s dad, Mike, is the perfect solution for them all. Did you see Aunt Bernice the other day? She’s grinning from ear to ear because her men will soon be out of her hair and out of her kitchen,” Morgan said.

  “Hey, I’m delighted they’re starting a business, and especially pleased they’ll be sharing space with us here. It’s just navigating that murky middle area—getting us all to the point where we can move in—that has me antsy. I had a hell of a time yesterday keeping those two off the ladders. Thank God Susie finally came by and distracted them,” Henry said.

  “I’m not too keen on having sixty-plus-year-old men up on ladders, either.” Morgan wouldn’t want his own fathers doing high work, come to that. Just thinking about it made him shudder. “What we need is a plan. Some way to keep the uncles occupied. Some sort of senior Benedict protocol plan. Hey, I bet Penelope could come up with one. She’s even more of a strategic thinker than either Josh or Alex is.”

  “I bet she could,” Henry agreed. “You know, I never thought those two geeks would be able to snag a woman like Penelope. It means there’s hope that even a couple of flyboys like us will eventually meet our mate.”

  Morgan turned and gave his brother a level stare. “Are you forgetting the fact that the woman was chosen for them by Grandma Kate?”

  “Of course I haven’t forgotten.” Henry sent him a confused look. “What, are you worried she’ll try to ply her match-making magic on us, too?”

  “Hell, no. I let her know flat out the night of that impromptu engagement party for Penelope and the geeks that you and I were quite capable of finding our own woman when we figure the time is right.” Morgan chuckled. “I think she’s got her eye fixed on Adam and Jake, though.”

  “So what are you worried about, then?”

  Before Morgan could answer, he heard a sound that he recognized instantly, and it chilled him to the bone.

  It was the sound of an airplane engine stalling out.

  He shot his gaze skyward, searching.

  “There!” Henry pointed to the north.

  The engine smoothed out even as the faint speck moved closer and gained in size. He was just able to see it was a single-engine prop job when the engine coughed again. Then it sputtered for a few long seconds before finally quitting altogether.

  “Shit.” Morgan recalled the one time a similar thing had happened
to him. He’d been behind the controls of a Cessna. This plane, a Piper he could see now, was smaller, but the danger for her pilot was no less. In any contest between plane and ground, the ground won. The Piper changed course slightly and appeared to be coming straight toward them.

  “He’s spotted our landing strip,” Morgan said.

  “Plane was flying kind of low. You make him for a drug runner?” Henry asked.

  “Doubtful. The payload capacity is too small on one of them to make it worthwhile.”

  Then Morgan focused on the plane, watching as the pilot executed what he considered to be a near perfect approach. When the wheels touched the tarmac for the second time and the Piper coasted to a stop, Morgan exhaled in relief. It didn’t surprise him when his brother did the same.

  “Let’s go.” He jogged over to where he’d parked the Jeep by the helicopter hangar. It didn’t take long to drive the quarter mile or so to the plane. He stopped his vehicle well away from the craft. Any worries he had for the pilot’s initial safety vanished when he saw the man was already poking under the engine cover. He thought he caught a wisp of smoke but couldn’t be certain.

  “Damn fool,” Morgan said. He’d heard of more than one plane exploding mere minutes after being landed safely.

  “So do we let him get his ass blown to bits, or do we go get him the hell away from there until we know it’s safe?” Henry asked.

  “I’ll go. Sitting by waiting for disaster to happen isn’t how Kendalls do things.”