The Things We Leave Unfinished Yarros, Rebecca (reading like a writer .TXT) 📖

He grinned, and her stomach flipped again. Oh, no. She was in trouble…at least for the next three and a half miles. After that, he could put some other girl in trouble for all she cared.

He pulled over properly, then stepped out of the car and came their way. He was tall, with broad shoulders that tapered nicely into the belted waist of an RAF uniform. God help her, those silver wings and rank said he was a pilot, and she knew more than enough about those boys to take a little heed. According to the other girls, they were reckless, passionate, transient, and often short-lived.

He lifted their luggage into the trunk. Scarlett blatantly ignored Constance’s sly smile as she glanced from the American back to Scarlett.

“Don’t even think about it,” Scarlett whispered.

“Why not? You are, and you should.” Constance smirked as the American shut the trunk.

“Ladies,” he said, keeping his eyes on Scarlett as he opened the door.

Constance slid into the back seat first.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Scarlett ducked her head and took the seat next to Constance.

“Stanton,” he said, leaning in to extend his hand. “I figure you should know my name. Jameson Stanton.”

Blinking, Scarlett offered her own. His grip was firm but gentle. “Assistant Section Officer Scarlett Wright, and my sister, Constance, who is also an Assistant Section Officer.”

“Excellent,” he said with a smile. “Nice to meet you both.” His gaze lifted to Constance, and he gave her a nod and a smile before releasing Scarlett’s hand.

She felt wildly off-center as he shut the door and took his place behind the wheel, his eyes meeting hers in the rearview mirror as he pulled out onto the road.

…

He wasn’t sure what to call that color of blue, but her eyes were stunning, and he was, well, stunned. They were the same shade as the water near some of the Florida beaches he’d seen on vacation. Bluer than the skies of his beloved Colorado. They were…going to get them into an accident if he didn’t watch the road. He cleared his throat and focused on driving.

“You didn’t seem surprised to hear that we’re sisters,” Constance remarked.

“Is anyone ever surprised to hear you’re sisters?” he joked. Constance was maybe an inch shorter than Scarlett and had the same piercing blue eyes, but hers lacked the fire that kept his gaze darting back in the rearview.

“Our father, I suppose,” Constance answered.

Jameson laughed.

“Guess which of us is older,” Constance suggested.

“Scarlett,” he answered without pausing to think it over.

“Why would you say that?” Scarlett challenged with a slight tilt to her head.

“You’re protective of her.”

Her eyes flared with surprise and her lips tugged upward.

“She’s only eleven months older, but she acts as if it’s eleven years,” Constance teased.

That earned a full smile from Scarlett, accompanied by a shake of her head. Damn, she was a knockout. Who the hell left a woman like that to walk down the street? His brow puckered. “So what happened to your ride? I’m guessing you hadn’t planned on walking all the way back to the station.”

“She probably lost track of time,” Scarlett answered in a tone that made him exceptionally glad he wasn’t the one who’d forgotten.

Not a man, then. He filed that fact.

“We appeared to have overestimated a friend’s ability to remember appointments,” Constance added. “Your accent is lovely. Where are you from?”

“Colorado,” he answered as a pang of homesickness stabbed quick and deep. “Haven’t seen her in over a year, but she’s still home.” He missed the mountains and the crisp lines they cut against the sky. He missed the way the air felt in his lungs, light and clear. He missed his parents and Sunday dinners. But none of that would exist for long if they didn’t win this thing.

“You’re with the 609?” Scarlett asked with the same accent her sister had, the one that screamed money and education.

“For a few months now.” He’d gotten to France only to be told that he was needed in England, and he wasn’t the only one. There were a few of them in the 609, and the Brits had welcomed them with open arms once they’d shown their skills in the sky. “What about you two?”

He fought the urge to drive slower, to make the trip last a little longer just so he could see Scarlett smile again, even though he knew stopping had already put him in danger of being late to the flight line. His gut tightened as their eyes met in the mirror for another flash of a second before she looked away.

“We’re both clerks in sector operations.” Constance lifted her eyebrows at Scarlett.

“We’ve been in for about a year now,” Scarlett added.

Two sisters. Both officers. Same position. Stationed together. Jameson was willing to bet that Daddy had money or influence. Most likely both. Wait…sector operations? He’d raise that bet to his whole month’s pay that they were plotters. “You move a lot of flags over there?”

Scarlett arched a brow, and his entire body tightened.

“You honestly think we pilots don’t know?” They were saving his ass, that was for sure. Plotters tracked all aircraft movement in the sky with the help of radio operators and RDF—Range and Direction Finding, creating the very map he flew by when the raids came. They were also top secret.

“I wouldn’t presume to guess what you know,” Scarlett responded with a faint smile.

Not only was she gorgeous but smart, too, and the fact that she didn’t let on that he was right—when he now knew he was—earned his respect. He was intrigued. He was attracted. He was in a damnable mess because he only had a few more minutes with her.

The minute they passed through the gate, a pit formed in his stomach, and the odometer ticked like a countdown. He’d been stationed here nearly a month and he’d never seen her. What were the chances he’d ever see her again?

Ask her out.

The idea nagged at him as he pulled up in front of the