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Kara felt like a scene from one of those cowboy-comes-to-the-city movies when they landed at JFK airport. The New York girl and six-two of cowboy lover at her side.
It was clear she wasn’t the only one imagining that. Several of the civilian flight attendants had flirted with Justin though she was right there beside him. Hitting baggage claim had the same dynamic. Kara was used to men’s gazes tracking her across a room—her feeling was let ’em look and dream ’cause they were never going to touch. But it was strange that this time so many of the women were tracking the man beside her.
She wasn’t quite sure how it had ended up this way. Justin had flown them across the Med to Camp Darby, he and his crew singing off-key Christmas carols for way too much of the four-hour flight. The fact
