Playboy Pilot(51)

“Confused about the man?”

I sighed. “How did you know?”

“I know that look. Been there with my Connor. Met him at eighteen, and he scared the bejesus out of me. The man could quite literally talk your pants off. Had that way about him, like Carter does. I tried to keep away. Didn’t help that he was gorgeous and a police officer who was rough around the edges, either.”

I smiled. “You said my Connor. I guess you eventually stopped running away from him?”

Her face fell. “I did. But, unfortunately for me, it wasn’t until I was nearly thirty-five.”

“What happened?”

“I was eighteen, and he was twenty five. I was a Jewish girl from the east, and he was an Irish boy whose parents were off the boat. My heart said yes, but my brain said no. As did my father. I made the mistake of listening to my brain over my heart. Eventually, I ran one way. He went the other. Lost almost twenty years with the love of my life before we caught up with each other again.”

“Wow. Is he…does he…live here with you?”

“Died in eighty-two. Random traffic stop gone bad when he pulled over a man who happened to have a trunk full of guns. Shot him point blank and left me a widow at thirty-seven. Found out I was pregnant with my son a few days after his funeral.”

I clutched my chest. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”

She nodded. “Thank you. But I didn’t tell you my tale of woe to bring your head down. Told you to remind you life is short. Half of the people in the world will tell you to follow your head, half will tell you to follow your heart. My advice, follow the one that isn’t confused. The stronger one will eventually convince the other to fall in line.”

Carter walked over wheeling a man in a wheelchair. “You ready? Just need to help Mr. Hank get into his car on the way out.”

I thanked Muriel by pulling her into a hug. “Thank you. For everything.”

She understood what I was saying. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. You take good care of our Captain, and I’ll make sure Bertha doesn’t come knocking on your door at 7AM tomorrow wearing that skimpy robe she thinks will land her a young pilot.”

Carter kissed her cheek. “Night, Muriel.”

After everyone was out of the Bingo hall, Carter locked up with a key on his key ring and we headed back to his place. He took my hand while we walked.

“Can I ask you something?” I said.

“Anything.”

“How did you know all those Bingo terms? That O-eighty-three was time for tea or that I-twenty-three was thee and me?”

“They told me a few of them. I saw that they got a kick out of it when I used the lingo. So I looked more up on the Internet and memorized the terms and some games.” Carter shrugged. “Long stretches of time to learn new stuff on overseas flights.” He chuckled. “Although I think my co-captain thought I was losing it when I had him quiz me the whole trip from Germany to New York.”

“I don’t know what to make of you, Carter. One minute you’re dirty talking in my ear and the next you’re taking me to Bingo.”

“Not exactly the date you’re used to, I’m guessing.”

“Definitely not.”

“Tomorrow night I’ll take you out on a real date. Just me and you to some fancy restaurant.”

I stopped on the sidewalk. “I didn’t mean it like that. This might have been the best date I’ve ever been on.”

“Really?”

I nodded. “The whole purpose of dating is to get to know the other person. It’s sad, but I don’t think I figured that out until tonight. I’ll be honest, dating for me was always about what restaurant some guy would take me to. I judged men based on what they spent and the designer they wore. Their last name meant more to me than how they treated the people who’d passed down that name. But seeing you up there tonight, I had an epiphany.”

“An epiphany, huh?”

We were still stopped on the sidewalk, holding one hand. I reached out and took Carter’s other hand into mine. Taking a deep breath, in the middle of a retirement community, I decided it was my moment of truth. “I’m crazy about you, Carter Clynes. I’d rather be with you in a Bingo hall sitting between Bertha and Muriel as they argue, than be in a five-star restaurant with a descendant of the Rockefellers. You sing Kenny Rogers because you know they love him, clip your fake father’s toenails, and buy women sneakers to help their bad backs.” I stepped to Carter and wrapped my hands around his neck. Taking one more deep breath, I spoke directly into his eyes. “I’m crazy about you, Carter. There is nowhere else I’d rather be than standing next to you, wherever that might take me.”