A Miracle for the Reserved Flyboy (Love in Sweet Bloom #11)

Chapter 11

CASANOVA

Cajun approached Gary quietly, his boots crunching over the concrete as he came up beside him at the side of the airplane. Gary was deep in his preflight checks, eyes scanning the details of the plane as he ran a hand along the metal hull, the cold surface a familiar anchor amid the storm of his emotions. He was leaving Sweet Bloom, leaving her, and everything felt like it was splitting at the seams.

Cajun cleared his throat gently, the compassion in his voice immediately breaking through Gary’s composure. “You okay?” he asked softly, his voice carrying a warmth that broke through the noise in Gary’s mind.

Gary didn’t respond right away, his gaze drifting out across the field, his heart a battlefield of conflicting emotions. The weight of Krista’s absence, even though he’d only just left her, pressed heavily against his chest. Her laughter still echoed in his ears, the warmth of her touch lingering on his skin, a bittersweet memory that felt both too recent and too distant.

“It’s a heckuva Christmas gift, you know,” Cajun continued, his voice dropping lower, infused with the kind of wisdom that only comes with years of experience. “To find the one you can’t live without…”

Gary’s breath caught, and he forced himself to look up. His red-rimmed eyes met Cajun’s, the raw vulnerability in his gaze barely concealed. The acknowledgment of how much he’d grown to need Krista, how deep his love for her ran, was laid bare between them.

Gary’s shoulders slumped, his voice barely above a whisper. “Doesn’t feel like a gift right now. Feels like I’m walking away from everything that matters.”

Cajun gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, grounding him with a look that was both understanding and resolute. “Make sure your head’s on straight, brother,” he said, his voice filled with a steady strength that Gary so desperately needed. “So Krista never has to live without you, okay? I know it feels like hell now, but you’re luckier than most of us.”

Gary’s throat tightened, and he could feel the sting of tears he’d been holding back. He forced himself to ask, “What do you mean?”

A faint, bittersweet smile crossed Cajun’s face. “Not everyone has someone waiting on them, Gary. You’ve got her, and you’ve already paid your dues to Uncle Sam. With all the time you’ve put in, you’re so close to finally calling it quits and going home for good. Instead of re-enlisting, you could have that life you’ve been dreaming about. You could have her .”

The flicker of a future with Krista seemed so close, but the ache in Gary’s heart made it feel a world away. “I’m already planning on it.”

“Good.” Cajun’s expression softened, his pride evident. “Just hold on a little longer, all right? Everything falls into place when it’s supposed to. It’s all part of the plan, even when we can’t see it.”

Gary hesitated, the vulnerability of asking for a favor gnawing at him, but he swallowed his pride. “Think you’d have room for me here, Cajun?” His voice wavered, embarrassment coloring his tone. “I mean, it’s not like there’s an airfield right around the corner, and I doubt Sweet Bloom has spare Falcons lying around. It’s barely got more than a couple stoplights.”

Cajun chuckled, a knowing smile spreading across his face. “I’ll see what I can do, my friend. My boss—Harley—she’s got a gift for making things happen. She and her husband and her brother run Flyboys, and Harley’s the brains of the outfit. If there’s a way to make a few charter routes work or expand the company somehow… she’ll figure it out.”

Relief washed over Gary, and he felt a glimmer of hope for the future he was yearning for. “Thank you, Cajun. It means a lot.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of everything left unspoken settling comfortably between them. But Cajun’s face lit up with playful curiosity, his eyes twinkling. “So, you’re really serious about her, huh? Talking about kids already? Must be serious, Gary. You’re not usually one to talk about settling down.”

Gary’s lips quirked up in a small smile, a warmth spreading through him as he thought of Krista and the life they could build. “It’s… yeah, it’s serious,” he admitted, almost to himself. “Something about Sweet Bloom just feels right.”

Cajun laid a hand over his heart with a grin, feigning a dramatic sigh. “Ah, the big, bad pilot has finally found his heart.” He sobered, though, a gentle pride in his voice. “Let the team know I said hello, okay? And don’t let Axis forget he owes me fifty bucks.”

Gary chuckled, feeling a little lighter. “Will do. Thanks again, Cajun.”

Cajun stepped back, his expression warm with unspoken care. “Be careful out there. Stay safe. And don’t worry, brother—we’ll keep an eye on Krista for you. She’s part of the family now.”

Gary nodded, his chest tight as he finally turned back to the Falcon, his heart both grounded and stretched across an ocean.

Nearly twenty-four hours later, Gary landed in Kabul; his mind was a fog of exhaustion and worry. The final leg of his journey to base was the hardest yet. Every minute felt like an eternity, each jolt of turbulence a reminder of the dangers that lay between him and his future. In the back of his mind, he clung to thoughts of Krista—the way her smile lit up her face, the warmth of her embrace, the life he was aching to return to.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when he bumped into someone as he made his way through the crowded airport. He looked up, the sharp sense of familiarity jolting him. The man standing before him was infamous—the one they called Reaper.

“Sir,” Gary blurted, snapping to attention instinctively, but Reaper’s hand shot out, pulling him back, a fierce look flashing across his face.

“Not here,” Reaper muttered, his tone low, almost warning. He glanced around, lowering his voice even further. “That was… that’s all in the past.”

Gary’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He’d heard whispers about Reaper’s past, the things he’d done, the ghosts he carried. “You’re leaving?”

Reaper’s dark eyes softened for a moment, vulnerability flashing across his face, rare and unexpected. “Yeah. I’ve got a wife at home—and a new daughter. I’m already three days late getting back. She’s… well, let’s just say she’s had enough of me being away.”

Gary felt a surge of admiration—and envy. This man, the legendary Reaper, had somehow found a way out. “Congratulations,” he said sincerely.

Reaper gave a slight nod, pulling off his sunglasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Thanks. It’s long overdue. But listen, there’s someone new stepping in, taking my spot. You’ll find out soon enough when you get back to base. Just… watch yourself, all right?”

A cold knot of apprehension twisted in Gary’s gut. “What do you mean?”

Reaper’s gaze darkened, a flicker of warning in his expression. “There are secrets in places like these, Casanova. The walls have ears, and not everything is as it seems. Be careful who you trust.”

Gary felt a shiver run down his spine. “Should I be worried?”

“Just keep your head low and stay focused. And remember, sometimes, the most dangerous secrets are the ones in plain sight.” Reaper clapped him on the shoulder, the weight of his words sinking in. “Good luck, Gary. Maybe one day, we’ll have a barbecue together. Somewhere safe. Somewhere real.”

Gary nodded, his heart heavy with a newfound resolve as he watched Reaper disappear into the crowd, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again.

The van marked “U.S.A.F.” was waiting just outside the terminal, a stark reminder of the duty he’d sworn to uphold. As he climbed into the back, the driver barely glanced at him, the tension in the air palpable.

“Congratulations on the promotion,” Gary ventured, trying to break the silence.

The driver’s eyes flickered in acknowledgment, though the expression remained stern and emotionless. “Thank you. But don’t get used to this chauffeur treatment. It’s not going to be a regular thing. I had a few things to discuss with our departing leader.”

Gary stifled a smile, settling into his seat and clutching his rucksack, feeling the weight of the journey ahead of him. “I won’t.”

They rode in silence, the air thick with unspoken tension as they sped through the dusty streets, each second bringing him closer to base—and one step further from Krista. He clung to the thought of her, the vision of a future just out of reach, and promised himself that one day, he’d make it back to her, to Sweet Bloom, to the life waiting for him on the other side of duty.

“Congratulations on your new rank, major.”

“Thank you.”

Gary squinted against the afternoon sun as he listened to the familiar hum of jets screaming across the sky, leaving white contrails that seemed to burn through the bright blue above them as they left the airport in Kabul far behind them. He could almost feel the adrenaline thrumming in his veins just watching them. But then he caught sight of his friend—standing with a rigid posture, fists clenched, brow furrowed deep enough to cast shadows across his face. The sight made Gary pause.

“You don’t sound happy.” He kept his voice steady and neutral, a fishing line cast out to see if he could reel out whatever was storming beneath his friend’s stoic exterior.

The man turned, his jaw clenching. “I’m not,” he said tersely, eyes darkening as they stared unseeingly at the runway ahead.

Gary tilted his head, studying him. “You aren’t happy about making rank?”

The silence that stretched between them was almost tactile, thick and tense. A few seconds passed, filled with nothing but the distant roar of engines and the low murmur of ground crew checking their planes. Then he let out a bitter, hollow chuckle, the sound devoid of any real humor.

“Would you be happy if everyone else popped one or two ranks – and you barely jumped?” Cavalier asked, his voice lined with bitterness that he was struggling to suppress. “Plus,” he hesitated, as though the next words carried a weight that made them difficult to speak. “My wingman, Piranha, got the position I was fighting for.” His shoulders slumped for a moment, the flash of vulnerability surfacing before he quickly pulled himself back to that mask of composure. There was a bitterness in Cavalier’s voice that couldn’t be missed.

Gary took in a sharp breath, realization hitting him like a punch to the gut. He understood in an instant what his friend was implying, the deeper implications of it all.

Captain Stephanie ‘Piranha’ Ely had stepped into the role Cavalier had been striving for, someone who would now be commanding the squadron—a position he’d been so close to, a position he’d poured his heart and soul into achieving. Now, his friend would be answering to someone he knew, maybe even respected, but who’d beat him to the finish line.

“Did they shuffle the units?” Gary asked, keeping his voice low, the words carrying a weight of genuine concern.

The pilot’s expression darkened further, lips pressing into a tight, grim line. “It’s happening on Monday,” he answered, his voice a low, frustrated rumble. His eyes were shadowed, a look of frustration and disappointment etched deep into his expression. “New units, new wingman, new rules… all to go with a new boss that’s got an ax to grind and a lot to prove to Colonel Bradford.”

Gary's stomach twisted as he absorbed the reality of it all. He’d seen what this kind of situation could do to a man’s spirit —to have poured everything into something, only to have it yanked out from under him at the last minute. He watched as his friend’s hand flexed, the frustration visible in the strained movement, like he was fighting the urge to punch something just to release the tension coiled within him.

There was a rawness in his friend’s eyes that Gary had rarely seen—a kind of hurt buried beneath the layers of stoicism and professionalism. This wasn’t just about a promotion. It was about respect, about validation, about feeling like the years he’d given, the blood, sweat, and sacrifices, had all led somewhere. To have that stripped away, to watch someone else receive what he’d been working for, was like watching a dream crumble in his hands.

“Guess this is just how it goes,” his friend muttered, his voice barely a whisper, almost as if he were speaking to himself more than Gary. “Work hard, keep your head down, do everything they ask, only to watch them hand the reward to someone else… a girl, too.”

“Hey,” Gary interjected softly, stepping closer, catching his friend’s eye. “I get it. I know what this meant to you.”

His friend looked down, and for a fleeting moment, there was a glimmer of something raw and unguarded, before he blinked it away, returning his gaze to the runway, his face hardening. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to gather the words, only for his voice to catch in his throat, the frustration still simmering there, so close to the surface.

“Yeah… well,” he finally managed, his voice hoarse, almost broken. “Doesn’t change anything now, does it? The decision’s been made. I’ve just gotta live with it, adjust, follow orders.”

Gary saw through the resignation, though; it was the bitterness of a man who knew he’d done everything right but had still been passed over. “You’ll handle it. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

His friend’s laugh was sharp, humorless. “Easy to say when you’re not the one walking into a squadron that’s been completely turned on its head. New guys, new rules, and new boss, with no love lost for the way things were done before.” He let out a shuddering sigh, his shoulders rising and falling. “But you know… maybe this is just the universe’s way of saying I need to learn to live with what I’ve got…. or find a new place to call home.”

There was a raw, restless energy about him, like a caged animal pacing, struggling with the weight of what he’d just lost. Gary wanted to say something—anything—that would ease the sting, the frustration radiating off him in waves. But he knew his friend wouldn’t hear it. Not now. Not with the wound so fresh, the sense of disappointment so sharp and cutting.

As they sat there, shoulder to shoulder, in the van awash in the golden afternoon light, the jets soaring above them in arcs of precision and power, Gary felt the quiet pain of watching a friend grapple with the sting of defeat, the pain of unfulfilled expectations, the feeling of coming up short despite every effort.

“Listen,” Gary said softly, finally breaking the silence, “you might feel like they’re underestimating you now. But that’s not going to be forever. They’ll see what you’re capable of. This might not be the moment you wanted, but it’s not the end.”

A shadow of something flickered in the man’s eyes as he looked at Gary. He thought Cavalier might say something, but instead, he just gave a single, silent nod, staring out at the horizon, where the jets streaked against the endless blue, as if searching for something that seemed just out of reach.

“No, I’m sure it’s not – not by a long shot either,” Cavalier uttered quietly under his breath, not looking at him. It sounded subtle, slightly veiled, making Gary wonder just how many changes were coming to put this confident pilot so far on edge.

Instead of speaking up or saying anything else, he swallowed and kept quiet the rest of the ride back to base.

Dearest Krista,

Sorry to write instead of calling, but a lot is going on that I can’t talk about yet. We’ll talk in person eventually. I’m trying to move all my pieces on the chessboard right now and got back home to find out that they changed the board to parcheesi.

I wish I were kidding.

I look at our pictures every night to keep me focused and my spirits up – just know that I love you, and when things happen, it will be quick.

Love always,

Gary