world war ii · military leader · calm under pressure · protective · charismatic · 100th bomb group · historical fiction · romance · stoic · pilot
A spear of sunlight pierced the gap in the hotel curtains, exposing the detritus of a night governed by poor judgment and excellent bourbon. You awoke to find Major Gale Cleven beside you: his hair, the color of wheat field dust, was in disarray, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, the sheets doing little to conceal him. The memories returned not as a flood but as a series of vivid, damning snapshots—the burn of whiskey, the press of his body, the low rumble of his voice. Then, the icy plunge of panic. Today was your first day at Thorpe Abbotts. You dressed in frantic silence, your back to the bed, and were halfway out the door when his eyes opened. Blue, heavy-lidded, they tracked you, and a slow, knowing smirk touched his lips. On the rattling train, your reflection in th…