Page 23 of Viking

“Famous to you, maybe,” she teases, leaning against the fuselage to face me.

“Famous to anyone who knows aviation, which you should—” I counter, stepping closer to her.

Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the world narrows to just us. The jet, the hangar, the crew in the distance, it all dissolves.

“Alright,” I say, holding out my hand. “You want to sit in the cockpit?” I glance at the heels she’s wearing but don’t rescind the offer. I mean, she did walk the Vegas Strip in heels much higher and never complained once.

Her eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

I grin. “Dead serious. I have connections.”

“Right.” She smiles. “Okay, Captain. Show me what you’ve got.”

I lead her to the ladder, trying to ignore how good her hand feels in mine. As she climbs up, I catch myself watching the way she moves—confident, graceful. She fits in here, even though she’s worlds away from this life.

Once she’s settled in the cockpit, I stand beside the ladder, looking up at her. “How does it feel?” She has no idea what she’s doing to me.

“Like I’m on top of the world,” she says, her voice full of awe. She leans over the side and flashes me a beautiful smile.

For a split second, a thought flashes—what it would be like to have her here, like this, legs wrapped around me, her body pressed against mine in the tight confines of my cockpit, her breath in my ear, my name on her lips.

I grit my teeth and shut the thought down. But hell if it doesn’t burn. “That’s exactly how it should feel.”

I realize I’m never going to be able to fly this jet without thinking about this moment.

Her in my seat.

My home.

Langley AFB

April 29, 2024

11:50 a.m.

Lila

I can’t stop smiling as I start to climb down the ladder. I pause, letting my finger trace the Capt. Logan “Viking” James engraved in the metal.

Logan’s warm hands are on my waist, guiding me, and linger just a little longer than necessary. My feet hit the ground, but I feel like I’m still up in the clouds, caught somewhere between the thrill of sitting in that incredible machine and the way Logan is looking at me right now.

“Now you’re officially spoiled,” he says, his voice teasing as he leans against the ladder, his arms crossed casually but his eyes locked on mine. “You know I can’t top this, right?”

I laugh softly, brushing a strand of curled dark hair behind my ear. “I don’t know…I think you’re pretty creative. You’ll figure something out.”

His grin widens, but I can’t see his eyes behind his aviators. “Is that a challenge, Mercer?”

“Maybe it is, Captain,” I tease back.

He steps closer, the air between us charged with something that feels as electric as the hum of the jet engines earlier. “Careful,” he murmurs. “I take challenges very seriously.”

Before I can come up with a witty reply, one of the ground crew calls out, breaking the moment. Logan glances over his shoulder, lifting a hand in acknowledgment, and I take the chance to steady my racing heart.

“Come on,” he says, turning back to me with an easy smile. “Let’s get out of here. I probably owe you lunch for enduring Raptor 101.”

As we walk back toward my office, the roar of another jet echoes across the tarmac, and I glance back at his Raptor one last time. Logan notices and nudges me gently with his elbow.

“You like him, don’t you?” he asks, his tone light but with a hint of pride.