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“But something tells me you believe you know my type. That maybe I think I’m too good to work for your dad? Or too lazy?” He arched a brow. “I’m close, aren’t I.”

He hadn’t phrased it as a question, and she merely shrugged.

“You do you. Just do me a favor and send some fellow Air Force jackass his way so I can get more than a few hours of sleep. This time of year is the most dangerous, weather wise. And people out here seem to lack any form of common sense when it comes to self-preservation.”

“I’m aware. I grew up here. And I’ve offered to send guys his way, but he blows me off before I can give him any names.”

“I told you. They’re not you. Which raises the question of why you keep saying no?”

Beckett stared at her, snapping his head to the back of the cabin when their other passenger made some weird gurgling noise before taking a few loud, gasping breaths.

He swallowed, coughed, then looked back at her, shaking out his right hand, again.

As if simply hearing that odd sound had affected him.

He rolled that same right shoulder, wincing as it rotated. “Other than three plates and a few dozen screws?”

“You managed that rescue like a pro. Flying doesn’t require nearly that much mobility.”

“I’m retired.”

“Right.”

He furrowed his brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” She blew out a rough breath.

“Guys like you, like my dad, never really retire. I mean, I know my dad tried. Lasted all of a month before he decided he needed to start up this search and rescue business. Though, I suspect he’d planned it that way from the start so he could argue that he’d given retirement the ol’ college try. Just like your buddies.”

“Maybe I’m not like them.”

Mac spared him a quick side eye as she lined the chopper up with the big H on the tarmac.

“Or maybe this has nothing to do with retirement or plates and screws and everything to do with why you chose now to leave the Air Force. The reason you wanted me to drop you off at the truck instead of bringing you on board.”

She made full eye contact this time. “Why you can’t bring yourself to actually sit in that seat.”

Beckett inhaled, clenching his jaw so tight she thought it might crack before he looked away.

That right hand still fisting and releasing.

She gave herself a mental slap, realizing a bit too late exactly what she’d said.

She’d definitely crossed a line. Especially considering he’d just jumped into the fray to help people he didn’t know.

Had put his own life at risk when he could have walked away.

He didn’t owe her or her father any explanation.

She berated herself under her breath, fighting the gusting winds and punishing rain as she landed the chopper on the tarmac, quickly spooling down the engines.

She hadn’t even had the chance to look over at him before he was up and moving, helping Charlie carry the basket out of the chopper and into the hanger.

Red and white lights reflected off the fog beyond the building, the ambulance obviously waiting for them.

Mac shut down the aircraft, grabbed the tow hook and lined it up.

Five minutes flat, and she had the machine bouncing along behind her as she rolled it into the hanger then shut the doors, shaking her head at how the rain pelted the metal side, each hollow ping reverberating through the large space.

Charlie appeared a moment later, the collapsible basket tucked under one arm as he made a beeline for the chopper.

She stopped him just shy of the doors, nodding at the main entrance. “Is Beckett already gone?”

Charlie nodded. “That new medic your dad just hired, Remington, I think. He was waiting in a truck outside, and your buddy Beckett jumped in as if his ass was on fire.” Charlie chuckled. “Not that I’m surprised. You were a bit…”

“Honest?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

“Charlie…”

Charlie propped the basket against the chopper, looking at the door then back to her.

“I realize it was probably the fatigue and anger talking. I mean, you did give up a lot in the name of family. And I know working for your dad isn’t all rainbows and puppies.

He’s gruff, stubborn and tends to yell first, consider apologizing later.

But you might have been a bit… harsh with Beckett.

Especially if you were trying to give him a reason to join. ”

Mac sighed, resting her ass against the chopper door. “Don’t hold back, Charlie. Tell me what you really think.”

“You know I love you and your dad like family. Adopted family that I often want to disown, but family, nonetheless. But you both tend to go straight for the jugular when you’re passionate about a subject. And sometimes, that comes back to bite you in the ass.”

“I wasn’t wrong.”

“I never said you were.”

“But you’re saying I went all pit bull on him instead of being a snuggly golden retriever.”

“Sorry to break it to you, honey, but you’ll never be a golden retriever. A husky, maybe.”

“Oh, so I’m the dramatic type?”

“God, you’re so much like Atticus and Josh it’s downright scary.” Charlie paused as her brother’s name slipped out before he sighed. “Like I said, you’re family. Why else would I stick around when I could make double the money working somewhere sunny and warm. With babes in bikinis.”

“You’re perfectly primeval.”

“Get some sleep. And maybe consider buying that guy some whiskey. You know that old saying, sugar catches more flies…”

“I doubt a bottle of Glenfiddich is going to sway him.”

“Maybe not. But it wouldn’t hurt. And seeing as the rest of his former team work here, it might be nice if you two didn’t shoot daggers at each other every time you ended up in the same room.

” Charlie shrugged. “Just a thought. I know all too well you’ll do what you want, and nothing and no one will change that. ”

“Wow, you’re on fire tonight.”

“I’m tired, too. And cold. Now go. And remember you’re only on call tomorrow, so don’t show your face in here unless I page you.”

She saluted him then struck off, stopping at the doorway when he called her name.

Charlie held up a wallet as he darted across the hanger, placing it in her hand. “This must have fallen out of Beckett’s pocket when he got knocked over by the basket. Be a doll and see he gets it back.”

“Be a doll?”

“Are you seriously going to bust my ass every time I use an old phrase?”

“Only when they’re sexist or just plain wrong.”

“Goodnight, Mackenzie.”

She flipped him off, shaking her head as she made her way out to her Wrangler.

She jumped inside, tossing Beckett’s wallet on the passenger seat as she started her Jeep, letting it idle until the heated seats had taken away the worst of the chill.

She glanced at the worn leather, debating whether she should drop it off tonight or just give it to one of his buddies when she inevitably saw them at work.

Her earlier words echoed inside her head, his pale skin and hollow eyes wavering in her rearview.

Charlie was right. She had been harsh. But more than that, she’d been judgmental.

And she knew, firsthand, never to judge someone before she’d gotten to know them.

Had a chance to see beyond the curtain because as sure as she’d be eating crow giving back his wallet, there was a much deeper reason Foster Beckett didn’t want to get behind the controls.

And she had a bad feeling she’d manifested that demon tonight.