Airman To The Rescue

She’s off-limits...and perfect for him!

It was supposed to be easy. Sarah Mcallister was going to flip her late father’s house and head back to Colorado for a fresh start. But when her shady contractor gets arrested, taking most of her budget with him, she’s at risk of losing everything. Enter Matt Conner...sexy pilot, single dad, Sarah’s brother’s best friend...and far too good with his hands for her peace of mind.

Moving into Sarah’s spare bedroom is just asking for trouble, but Matt’s trying to make amends with his troubled teen son, and a key step is finding a decent place to crash for as long as it takes. And the woman needs his help...

“I have a proposition for you.”

The way those sensual lips said proposition had her wishing he was about to say something quite different from what he was probably about to suggest. Definitely not that they should get naked and test out her new kitchen counters.

“Yes?” she squeaked out.

“I’ll do the work in exchange for being able to rent the spare bedroom from you. This way, I don’t have a landlord breathing down my back while I look for another place to live. A win-win for both of us. You’re helping me out.”

Sarah couldn’t speak for a few seconds. She’d never imagined he would suggest living here. With her. But of course, this was no big deal to him. He was not picturing accidentally running into her coming out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around her naked body the way she’d been imagining in the few seconds since he’d mentioned the idea.

“This house has one bathroom. One.”

He grinned. “I was taught to share.”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to the second book in the Heroes of Fortune Valley series. In Airman to the Rescue, we get to know Matt Conner, a hero after my own heart. Matt is a single dad trying to reconcile with his troubled teenage son. If you have ever raised a teenager (guilty), you will relate to Matt’s struggle. But what he doesn’t expect is for Sarah to be the one who will help him understand the depth of a father’s love.

While Sarah Mcallister can’t resist her simmering attraction to former air force pilot Matt Conner, the road to love is never a smooth one. Have you ever met a man who can “fix” anything? Our hero doesn’t just pound nails in his spare time. He also single-handedly manages to restore Sarah’s bitter heart.

Welcome to Matt and Sarah’s romance. May we always celebrate second chances and the restorative power of love.

I hope you will enjoy!

I love hearing from readers. You can find me on Facebook, Twitter (@heatherlybelle), Instagram (heatherly.bell) and Pinterest (heatherlymbell). Email: Heatherly@HeatherlyBell.com.

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Heatherly Bell

Airman to the Rescue

Heatherly Bell

www.millsandboon.co.uk

HEATHERLY BELL tackled her first book in 2004 and now the characters that occupy her mind refuse to leave until she writes them a book. She loves all music but confines singing to the shower these days. Heatherly lives in Northern California with her family, including two beagles—one who can say hello and the other a princess who can feel a pea through several pillows.

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For James, who can fix anything.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

SARAH MCALLISTER’S EYES fluttered open and her gaze landed on the first items in her line of sight: several exposed wires crawling out of the socket in the ceiling above her bed like a spider’s creepy legs.

She hated spiders almost as much as she hated contractors.

Her brand-new ceiling fan and light fixture combination belonged where those wires were, but instead it sat in the as-yet-unopened home improvement store box. She had Gus “should be murdered in his sleep” Hinckle, her hired contractor, to thank for that.

Sarah sighed and rolled over on her side. She startled at the sight of Shackles, her shaggy rescue mutt, sitting on the floor near her bed staring up at her. Unblinking.

A month after adopting Shackles, Sarah and her rescue were still getting used to each other. He’d been through a great deal, she got it, but was it her fault he’d been flown to California by Paws and Pilots only to have his forever family change their mind? In the end, she’d agreed to adopt Shackles and had given him a name worthy of their mutual situation. He was unwittingly tied to her and she was tied to her father’s old house and the small town of Fortune, California, for reasons that didn’t seem to make sense any longer.

“Time to get up.”

Sarah fought with the white cotton sheets wound twice around her legs since she’d tossed and turned throughout the night. In other words, the usual.

First order of business today was to put in a call to Gus and ask him for the tenth time this week when he planned on getting his ass over here to finish the job she’d hired him to do. Paid him to do, in fact, with a nice little deposit for his troubles. She stumbled over the unfinished flooring in the hallway where the hardwood slats were propped against the wall, waiting.

The last time Gus had been here a week ago, he’d given her high hopes he might actually finish the job. What he’d done looked promising because, when she could get the man to work, he knew his stuff. Eventually her father’s old house, a relic of the sixties, would be updated to the twenty-first century. Then she’d be able to flip the house for a tidy profit and get out of dodge. Back to Fort Collins, Colorado, since there was nothing left for her here in Fortune.

She grabbed her cell phone from the kitchen counter and hit her speed dial for Satan. As had occurred every day for the past week, the call went immediately to Gus’s voice mail.

Blah blah blah I’m a contractor. Blah blah blah not just a contractor but an artist. Blah blah blah I’ll finish your project in time and under budget.

Oh yeah, that last one was hilarious.

“Get your ass over here and finish what you started or I swear I’m calling the cops! And I mean it this time.”

As if the cops cared about a shifty contractor. The jails would be overflowing if that were the case. “I’ll call the Better Business Bureau and file a complaint! Did I mention my brother is an Air Force pilot? He’s big and bad and he’ll kick your ass. Get over here!”

She hung up and threw the phone toward her couch. Her brother might be a badass but he was too busy running their late father’s flight school, Magnum Aviation, chartering flights through his new company and spending every other moment with the blonde who had tamed him. Sarah wasn’t going to ask him for any more help. He’d already done enough by installing the granite countertops after she’d bought him out of his half of the house.

Shackles stared from his empty dog bowl to her and back again. “All right, all right,” Sarah said, filling his bowl. Never let it be said he couldn’t communicate. In fact, he was better at communication than most men.

On the off chance he’d changed his routine, that he’d finally begun to trust her a teensy bit, she went back to the counter and started the coffee. But true to his idiosyncrasies, Shackles wouldn’t eat with anyone else in the room. He stood, guarding the bowl, less Sarah should suddenly be taken with the desire to start eating kibbles for breakfast. And he had still not touched the food.

“Where’s the trust?” Sarah grumbled and headed to hit the shower, grateful Gus had never even started on her bathroom project.

The small south county airport where Sarah worked was bustling with activity when she arrived for her morning shift at the Short Stop Snack Shack. Since her brother had started Mcallister’s Charters, he’d managed to infuse the struggling airport with a needed shot of adrenaline. Now they didn’t just have the aviation school and an air museum on site, but the Short Stop Snack Shack had been revamped into more of a coffee shop.

Their clients were now not only composed of adrenaline junkies seeking the thrill of skydiving or flying lessons, but Silicon Valley high-tech gurus who worked from home on their sprawling hilltop homes and were occasionally needed in San Francisco and Los Angeles.

Then there were the legal professionals. She’d heard Gerald Firestone was a tyrant in the San Francisco County civil courtroom where he’d recently been made a judge, but he’d never been anything but kind to Sarah. He had a ten-acre farm in Fortune he retreated to every evening, and he chartered a flight from her brother Stone’s company every morning and afternoon. She couldn’t even imagine how much that would cost a person, but by the looks of his Rolex watch, Judge could afford it.

The Shack was not much more than a countertop in the middle of the small converted hangar with bar stools circling it and one small makeshift wall. She’d talked the manager into an espresso machine, which made the passengers happy. However, the Shack was definitely still low-tech. But it was either their fresh-brewed coffee and shrink-wrapped pastries or a vending machine.

“How much would it cost to sue someone, Judge?” Sarah asked him, as she poured more coffee.

“That all depends.” Judge Firestone glanced at his watch. “Why?”

“Just curious.”

Even if it would only cost one hundred dollars to sue Gus—she didn’t have the money. She’d worked through most of her savings to buy Stone out, and then taken out a short-term adjustable-rate bank loan to help with renovations. If Gus didn’t materialize at some point, Sarah didn’t know what she would do. She didn’t want her brother to know about any of this. If Stone were to find out about the mess she’d gotten herself into, he’d only remind her he’d never thought it a great idea to remodel the place. No, the whole thing had been her idea and now she had to deal.

But surely Gus would show up. He had a reputation to protect. Besides, she’d recently decided to believe in the goodness of people. She was going to stop being so angry at the world and its inhabitants. Stop being antisocial and learn to be friendlier. Fake it till you make it. Judge was a big part of the change, and he made the chitchat easy. On the other hand, Gus reminded her that no matter what kind of magical fairy dust she wanted to sprinkle all over, people like him turned it into sparkly pollution.

She was a work in progress.

Judge opened his mouth, but the loud speaker squawked and Emily’s soft voice called out, “Chartered flight two-oh-three passengers, please come to the tarmac for boarding.”

“Guess you better go,” Sarah said.

Judge slapped his always excessive tip on the counter and smiled. “Wonder if she’s flying me today.”

“That happened once.”

“A man can dream.” He picked up his briefcase and waved to Sarah.

It didn’t surprise her that Judge carried a little torch for Emily Parker, soon to be Emily Mcallister. Most men crushed on Emily. And Sarah understood crushes. Unfortunately, she understood them far too well. Crushes didn’t go anywhere because at heart they were nothing more than fantasies. Judge had to realize he didn’t stand a chance with Emily. But the bald, sweet, fifty-something Judge probably loved a gratifying fantasy as much as the next person, and as long as the make-believe never converged with reality it was usually a safe and predictable situation.

The door leading to the tarmac opened and the object of her personal fantasies strode in, as always seemingly unaware of how he made Sarah break out in a spontaneous sweat. Matt Conner, Stone’s Air Force buddy and best friend, carried himself with his usual air of confidence and easy male swagger as he made his way inside, aviator shades covering his chocolate-brown eyes. He worked for Stone, one of a handful of pilots on staff. While Matt made his way to Magnum’s offices, where he occasionally taught a lesson or two, Sarah forced her gaze away and wiped the countertop. She hated this hyperawareness of him every time he walked into a room. If her eyes were blindfolded, she’d know his presence in the room by the absolute pull of her body in his direction.

Not for the first time and certainly not for the last, she forced herself to get with the program and stop daydreaming. She was here to fix a house, and fix her life if at all possible. Not to lust after a man, no matter how hunky.

“Hey, Sarah. Turn it up, would you?” One of their regulars pointed to the flat-screen TV anchored to the wall behind her.

She usually kept the set on mute, but she now turned up the volume. Yet another car chase broadcasted on national news. California, of course. Not exactly the image she wanted her mother back home in Colorado to see. Mom believed there were earthquakes every day in California, and that everyone was blond and beautiful. Coming out a month ago to meet Emily hadn’t done much to dispel that last myth. Now she’d believe car chases were the norm, too.

“Okay, this is ridiculous. Why doesn’t he just pull over? He’s going to hurt someone,” Sarah said as she, too, became entranced. Four police cars were chasing a red convertible Corvette down a closed-off freeway somewhere in San Diego. Someone had a death wish.

“Been a while since we had one of these chases.” Jedd straddled a stool. He worked for Stone as a mechanic, and was probably on his break.

The cops surrounded the car from all directions, and when the Corvette tried to pull over, they blocked it in.

“Let me have some coffee? Not your fancy machine. Just the stuff in the pot,” Jedd said.

“Coming right up.” While her back was turned, there was a little cheer from the small group.

“Yeah! They got him. Look at him surrendering like a wimp after putting up such a fight.” Jedd stuck out his office mug. “Yeah, that’s right, sucker. Hands up in the air.”

Sarah poured Jedd’s coffee and glanced up at the TV. The man they’d arrested looked an awful lot like... But no. It couldn’t be. Everybody had a doppelgänger in the world. Right?

“Ow! Sarah!”

Sarah yanked her attention away from the nightmare occurring on national TV. She’d kept pouring into Jedd’s cup and nearly all over his arm. “I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

“I got a splash, but I’m fine. That coffee’s hot.”

She’d also spilled all over the counter and down the floor. She grabbed a rag and ran it under cold water. “Here, put this on your hand.”

She glanced back up at the screen to see that the man was now on the ground, cops blocking him in on every direction. Maybe she was seeing things. She’d been under so much stress lately, with her father’s death and coming out to Fortune to settle his estate, that something like that could happen. She might be hallucinating.

“D-did you hear them say what the guy’s name is? The one they arrested?”

“Nah, the news probably won’t release his name.” Jedd used the wet rag she’d given him to mop up the floor instead. “Hey now, Sarah, you don’t need to cry about this. I know it was an accident.”

But Sarah wanted to cry. She also wanted to scream and curse. The ticker tape across the screen read “Contractor on the run arrested.” And the man they’d just arrested sure looked an awful lot like Gus Hinckle.

CHAPTER TWO

MATT CONNER HAD returned from a quick chartered hop to San Francisco and checked back in with Emily and Cassie when he heard a commotion in the converted hangar the airport used for several offices and the Snack Shack. Cheers and a few claps. In other words, not the norm at their quiet south county airport. He stuck his head out the office door, and as usual his gaze focused on Sarah like a laser beam. The waiting passengers were excited and pleased about something or other. Sarah, on the other hand, stood behind the counter of the Snack Shack openly sobbing. Jedd was doing his best to comfort her, his face broadcasting the same pained expression men all over the world wore when they didn’t know how to comfort a woman but still had to try.

In seconds, Matt made his way out the door and to the middle of the hangar.

“I don’t know what you’re so upset about. Everybody makes mistakes. It was just a little coffee,” Jedd said as he patted Sarah’s shoulder.

“What the hell happened?” Matt barked.

“She spilled some coffee on me and then she...she just started crying. I’m not hurt, I swear!” Jedd held up his hands.

“Sarah. Tell me what’s wrong,” Matt said, his voice sounding clipped and edgy even to his own ears. He tried his best to soften his tone, but she worried him. The passengers were beginning to stare, too, and she’d hate that.

This had nothing to do with the coffee. He’d only known her a few months but everything about Sarah said confident, capable, independent woman. He’d never seen her give way to her emotions like this, even after losing her estranged father and fighting with Stone over the flight school and their inheritance. Every instinct in him said this was much bigger than spilled coffee.

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her body like she’d cave in at any minute.

Never one to lack initiative, Matt tugged her gently from behind the counter and then led her, hand on the small of her back, toward Magnum’s main office. He opened the door, and when Emily glanced up from the desk where she sat next to their office assistant, Cassie, he waved away the look of concern in her eyes.

“Need a minute.” He led Sarah inside Stone’s smaller inner office and shut the door.

“I’m okay.” She hiccupped and grabbed a tissue from the box on Stone’s desk. “R-really.”

“Yeah, not buying it. Try again.”

“Seriously. This isn’t your concern. Just give me a few minutes in here. I’ll get myself together.” She jerked away from him, but he caught her by the elbow and turned her toward him. The same energy he’d tried to ignore again and again surfaced as it did every time he touched her. A jolt of electricity coursed through him because every time he touched Sarah he got a one-two-punch reminder he was a man. And she was a hot woman. Beautiful. Smart.

But not his.

“Tell me.”

Her green eyes, now red-rimmed, found their fire again. “Why? So you can try to fix this for me? I don’t need your help.”

Good. He had pissed-off, fighting Sarah again. He could deal with her. What he couldn’t handle was falling-apart Sarah because she only made him want to haul her into his arms and kiss her until she forgot her name.

“Something happened out there, and it didn’t have anything to do with coffee.” He leaned back against Stone’s desk and folded his arms across his chest.

She slapped her forehead. “Of course it didn’t have to do with coffee! This has to do with the fact that I’m an idiot. I trusted a man. I paid him good money, and he didn’t deliver!”

At this, he was sure he’d lost a couple of brain cells. He didn’t speak for a moment, clearing his throat as he tried with a Herculean effort not to picture Sarah paying for a gigolo’s services. But that’s exactly what it sounded like even if he knew it couldn’t be true. Still, his imagination was enjoying this little side trip. Maybe a little too much.

“Oh my God! Wipe that look off your face. I hired a contractor. Somebody up there must really hate me because I picked the loser of contractors. I picked the guy who leads the police on a car chase and gets arrested on national TV!”

Crap. “That was your contractor?”

“It’s him.” She slumped into one of the chairs. “We were all watching. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t him, and that it could be someone who looked like him. I don’t know what he did, but the man got himself arrested. He hasn’t returned my calls and now I know why.”

“Great. How much did you pay him?”

“Too much. I gave him a deposit, and there hasn’t been much labor. He could never seem to finish a project. Always had to run to the store to get another nail or another stud or God knows what.”

“Where did you hear about this guy, anyway?”

“Eloise’s List. He had plenty of good reviews so either the people were being blackmailed into leaving them or he’s recently changed his work ethic.”

There had to be something else, though, or she wouldn’t be this upset. “No worries. I’ll find someone else for you. I’ll check him out first.”

“No.”

He cocked his head. “No?”

“You heard me. Unless you know anyone who works for free, I can’t afford them.”

“You run out of money?”

“You could say that. I planned on selling soon and flipping the house.” She groaned and rubbed her temples. “This is so much more complicated than on those home improvement shows.”

Those reality shows were filled with so much...fantasy. Find a fixer-upper for two hundred dollars, pour in some “sweat equity” and sell for a cool million. He didn’t know where these scenarios happened, but so far as he could tell it wasn’t planet Earth. He’d tried, of course, to warn Sarah about buying the house from Stone. To say the house needed a facelift was an understatement. Even Stone had tried to talk her out of the remodeling.