Crosswind (The Flyboy Trilogy Book Three)

By G.L. Ross

Lance is thrilled his goddess finally remembers him, but which Lisa is coming home with him? In some ways he is eager for the return of his innocent, sweet, loving Lisa, but he also adores his new and improved, sexy, opinionated, wild tiger. They are settling into their smooth sailing, happily reacquainted life when Lance’s flyboys are called to Afghanistan. This disruption is nothing compared to the turbulent arrival of Lance’s insanely hot, long lost half-brother, fighter pilot Derek Fuller. Derek’s arrival may cause Lisa’s path to be completely rerouted.

• Language: English
• Publisher: G.L. Ross
• Release date: Oct 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370085590

G.L. Ross

G.L. Ross is a proud, sixth generation, native Texan. As a true Southern Belle, G.L. has always dreamt of the “happily ever after,” the prince riding in on the white horse sweeping her off her feet. She hasn’t found “Prince Charming” – yet (always an optimist) – but finds him every time she writes about her characters’ “happily ever after” endings. Her motto in life is to “always find the good” in every person and situation. Whether through laughter, prayer, music, or a glass of wine or vodka, G.L. finds the good in life and shares her sense of humor, love, and adventure in her stories.

Book preview

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Lisa’s memory has returned along with her burning desire for wickedly handsome Captain Lance Miller. Passion soars when the two unite. Lance is thrilled his goddess finally remembers him, but which Lisa is coming home with him? In some ways he is eager for the return of his original, sweet, loving Lisa, but he also adores his new and improved, sexy, opinionated, wild tiger. They are settling into their smooth sailing, happily reacquainted life when Lance’s flyboys are called to Afghanistan. This disruption is nothing compared to the turbulent arrival of Lance’s long lost, insanely hot half-brother, fighter pilot Derek Fuller. Derek’s arrival may cause Lisa’s path to be completely rerouted.

Published by Gayle L. Ross

First Edition

Copyright filed 2016 Gayle L. Ross

Cover Design: James at GoOnWrite.com

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

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Acknowledgments

I’m extremely grateful to everyone who supported me in this endeavor, especially my faithful readers who have waited two years for this exciting conclusion. Thank you to a special team of ladies who test read and shared many thoughts regarding this story: Lucy Evans, Paula Scales, Mette Castor, Kelly Bernard Field, and Tabitha Stokes. The elite world of the Air Force reserves is an integral part of this book. Thank you J and Andrea Garnett for your insight and expertise. Without your knowledge J, I wouldn’t come close to comprehending the dynamics of being in the Reserves and an Air Force pilot.

When I first gathered the courage to enter the world of writing I knew I wanted to share my love of romance, faith, second chances, and almost twenty-seven years of experience in the airline industry. What a combination! The Flyboy Trilogy has become a part of my heart and soul. The emails I receive from many of you touch me in ways I can never explain. Your faith and support means the world to me. You asked for the Flyboys to continue…so I am granting your burning desire. The trilogy is launching into a stand-alone series featuring each of Lance’s flyboys.

A special thank you to Travis Simmons for interior formatting, Lisa Renee Jones for being my guardian angel, Robert Ross for managing my websites, and A HUGE thank you to the bloggers who support my books and have become my friends…I cannot do this without you! To my wonderful family, thank you for believing in my dream and talent. Your belief in me enables my dreams to soar above the clouds and beyond.

My deepest gratitude is to you…my readers.

Please join my street team, The Flygirls. Also, message me on social media, my website www.GLRoss.com, or via email [e-mail] I value your input. Please, please, please post a review and tell your friends about the books. Thank you to my heavenly father for blessing me with this dream and those associated with it. May God bless all of you…

Always & Forever,

G.L. Ross

Dedication

You are always there to encourage and motivate me. There are times I believe you have more faith in me and my dreams than I do. Thank you for being my best friend and the original energizer bunny. This book is dedicated to Lucy Evans.

Music

Beautiful lyrics inspire my writing. These talented vocalists, musicians, and lyricist accompanied me on my Crosswind journey. To fully experience Lisa’s journey, listen to these lovely songs while reading:

Adele: 25 (Entire CD)

Chris Young: I’m Comin’ Over (Entire CD)

Thomas Rhett: Tangled Up (Entire CD)

Righteous Brothers: You’ve Lost That Lovin Feelin (You’ve Lost That Lovin Feelin)

Craig Morgan: The Journey (Wake Up Lovin’ You)

Elvis Costello: The Very Best of Elvis Costello (She)

Rascal Flatts: Me And My Gang (What Hurts The Most)

Florida Georgia Line: Here’s To The Good Times (Stay)

Sam Hunt: Montevallo (Take Your Time)

Partridge Family: Partridge Family Album (I Think I Love You)

Garth Brooks: Scarecrow (When You Come Back To Me Again)

Kenny Chesney: Kenny Chesney Greatest Hits (You Had Me From Hello)

Bruno Mars: Doo-Wops & Hooligans (Marry You)

Memories are events from the past—past being the key word. Lying here in this uncomfortable hospital bed, I’m not certain which is more painful my body from being beaten or my head from the onslaught of rapid fire memories. I’m beginning to think life was better, easier when I had shit for brains and couldn’t remember anything except my childhood. A part of me desperately wishes I could turn back the clock twenty-four hours. Now that I have this hell to compare it with, life without short-term memory wasn’t quite so bad.

What I would like to forget is how uncomfortable I am. You would think hospital beds would be the best beds. I mean you’re already feeling crappy which is why you’re in the hospital, so the beds should be top of the line to ease your pain, but nope…simply a skinny, metal frame, with a flat mattress covered in plastic that makes you sweat. Yuck.

I think I’ve tried every position this incompetent control will move the bed to and yet none of them are the least bit comfortable. Between moans, groans, and yelps I attempt to turn on my side. Finally, I discover a somewhat comfortable position. My eyes close. My mind attempts to fade black. Please go blank. My breathing slows. Maybe…just maybe I will finally fall asleep.

Thirty seconds later the lights in the room turn full bright. An irritating high-pitched Minnie Mouse sounding voice bellows, Ma’am, I need to take your vitals. Are you kidding me? Seriously? For the love of Pete, give me a break!

Go away, I grunt. She continues messing with the machines and wires attached to me. Seriously, leave—me—alone.

Ma’am, you need to turn flat on your back so I can take your blood pressure.

Trust me if I roll to my back my blood pressure will soar through the roof. It’s already skyrocketing because you have completely pissed me off coming in here squealing, turning on the lights, and disturbing me when I finally—FINALLY—discovered a half-way comfortable position. Now leave me alone…GO! I scream.

Ma’am—

A deep controlling voice fills the room. "You heard the lady. I think for your health you had better skip her vitals this round. The door lock clicks. Minnie Mouse has left my house…thank the Lord. I relax, close my eyes, and settle back into my rhythmic breathing. The lights in the room dim. Flyboy’s here. All is taken care of…I’m safe. Seems like part of new Lisa still lives on even though old Lisa’s memories have returned."

I’m not even looking at you and I know you’re wearing a smirk from ear-to-ear. Stop the sass and get over here where I can see you. His brilliant blue eyes turn dull as he observes the bruises and cuts decorating my face. I feel worse than it looks. His face puzzles. Or is it looks worse than I feel? His lips brush against my forehead before settling on the tip of my nose. Whatever it is you know what I mean.

Yes, I do, baby. His raspy voice relaxes me. He strokes my arm. I’m thankful you’re okay. I grimace while attempting to roll to my back. Goddess, push the morphine pump. Don’t try to deal with the pain. You don’t have to act tough around me. Lance pushes the pump, the machine beeps, and after a few seconds my head swims.

Wait—Lance, I mumble. My speech slurs. Baby can’t have morph— His lips press to mine preventing me from completing my thought.

His breath brushes against my lips. Sleep, Goddess. A tear moistens my cheek as my eyelids seal shut. My thoughts turn hazy, but not before realization strikes—the tear on my cheek isn’t mine.

Lucy motions me to join her in the hall. I slowly release my hand from Lisa’s, before exiting her room and closing the door.

How’s our girl? Lucy asks.

In pain, beaten, bruised—I’d love to beat the hell out of Wayne Brighton. My fingers thread my hair as I pace back and forth. How in the hell did he get to her again? What happened, Lucy?

Her eyes avert mine. It’s obvious, from her mannerisms, she harbors guilt or knows vital information. Information I need to hang Wayne. It’s all my fault. It never crossed my mind he would be there. She pinches the bridge of her nose, prior to beating the palm of her hand against her forehead. I’m an idiot!

Come here, I say, wrapping my arms around Lisa’s petite energizer bunny.

I’m so sorry, she cries. We had a great dinner. She heard a song she liked and left me at the bar to get our drinks while she danced. I swear, Lance, I wasn’t gone long. I came back and couldn’t find her. I swear.

It’s not your fault, I snap. It’s his—once again, but this time the bastard is never getting out of jail. So help me God he will never touch my goddess again. Holding her shoulders, I push Lucy back the length of my arms and bend so I’m eye to eye with her. It’s. Not. Your. Fault. Do you hear me?

She sniffles. Yes, thank you. Her arms wrap around my waist. She holds me for about forty seconds before asking, The baby! I can’t believe I didn’t ask earlier. How’s the baby?

Unable to look at her, or deal with admitting the outcome, I turn and walk the length of the hospital hallway. Her sobs reverberate in my mind. Staring out the window in the waiting room, I admire the Texas Capitol lit in all its splendor. Why, God? Memories of our tumultuous relationship blend with my sparkling view of downtown Austin.

Are we bad for each other? Is our relationship doomed or possessed? It seems when I get her I lose something or someone else. What exactly are you trying to tell me?

A voice I recognize, but haven’t heard in years, responds to the questions I never actually expected to be answered. That nothing and no one can tear you apart…but he knows you can’t hear him—that’s why he is speaking to you via me, my hard headed brother.

Are you fucking kidding me? I thought you died or fell off the edge of the earth.

Obviously, someone failed to inform you in pilot training the earth is round.

Derek, get your ass over here and hug your big brother, I bellow. My long lost brother about knocks me over as his arms bear hug me. He may be my younger brother, but he definitely is no longer my little brother. I step back and absorb the vision in front of me. How? Why? My fingers lace my hair before squeezing the nape of my neck.

Sit your ass down and I’ll answer all your questions. He joins me on the love seat, in the waiting area. I ran into Andy and Brent at the base. Apparently Andy’s sister is a nurse here in the hospital and she met you at some point in the past. She called Andy and told him your girlfriend had been injured. She thought the guys would want to know. Brent and Andy were getting ready to head this way when they found me. I told them to stay put, that I’d come here, to be with you. I called Mom, but she wasn’t even aware you had a girlfriend. Is this a new fling or is Mom clueless as usual?

First off, Lisa is not a fling, I growl.

Derek’s hands fly into the air. Hey, man. No disrespect intended.

Fine, I grunt. "Mom and Dad know nothing about my life, and my life is Lisa."

Wow, this Lisa must be some gal to have you completely under her thumb. Sounds as though you’re whipped, big brother.

I roll my eyes and attempt to suppress my smile, but my attempt is useless, when it comes to Lisa all I want to do is smile. That I am, I sigh. That I am. I lean my head back against the couch and shut my eyes.

Is it serious? I mean her health—is she going to be okay?

The sincerity in his voice squeezes my heart. She will be…with time.

That’s good, man. His hand grips my knee. She’s lucky to have you. You’ll get her through whatever happened.

So, you don’t know the story? I ask, with a puzzled look.

No. All I was told was your girl was in the hospital.

And that brought you off base? You drove from San Antonio to Austin at midnight because you heard my girlfriend was in the hospital…nothing else?

Yeah, why are you so surprised?

Because I haven’t seen or heard from you in five years, Derek. My email and cell number haven’t changed. You never answer any of my messages. You’re overseas shooting and bombing militant groups in the Middle East and do not reply. I would assume you’re dead except I know someone would have to notify the family and even though Mom and Dad are worthless at times I know they would let me know about your fuckin’ funeral.

Hey, man.

Let—me—finish. Derek leans back against the armrest on the couch turning to partially face me. But miraculously you find out my girlfriend’s in the hospital, which could be for a bad cut or a hurt knee and you come running? Really? And you wonder why I’m surprised?

"Fine, fine. I’m sure I deserve your dissertation and probably more—

Ya think?

I have the floor big bro’ so give me the same courtesy I gave you—shut your trap. I smirk. I may be pissed at him, but I’m damn glad to see him too. I’ve been dealing with my own shit and quite honestly sometimes the job is easier when you don’t realize you have anyone at home depending on you or caring about you. I’m sure you understand where I’m coming from, right?

I nod. Yeah, I get it.

It’s not that I don’t care. Derek runs his fingers through his hair and it dawns on me the family apparently shares a nervous habit. I half-laugh hoping he doesn’t think I’m laughing at him. Fortunately, he’s so caught up in his thoughts he continues without even noticing. I’m on leave as of tonight and then I’m in training for four months before shipping out. I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go, so I stayed on base for tonight or at least I was going to, until I heard about you. Hell, Lance, I find out you’re an hour away and may need family support. Do you really think I’m not going to come?

I stretch my arm and squeeze his shoulder. Thanks for coming.

Now tell me what’s going on with…what’s her name?

I smile. Lisa—my world—my goddess.

Almost an hour later, Lance has skimmed the surface of his chaotic, unbelievable, and traumatic roller-coaster love story with Lisa. He dreamt of her, for all these years? Finally, he finds her and then watches her plane crash? I can’t imagine the fear and loss he must have felt. Still to this day when I shoot a plane down and watch it crash a sinking hole plummets my gut and I don’t even know those folks. But hell, Lisa survives, he finds out she’s pregnant, and she has fucking amnesia! His reason for living has no clue who he is, yet he’s the baby-daddy! This is straight out of a chick romance novel. I honestly don’t know how he has survived. I’d be locked up somewhere.

This crap tonight though—well my heart hurts for him…and his girl. I can’t believe Lance hasn’t killed the guy. If a worthless piece of shit, like this Wayne guy, had tried to rape my girl even once he would barely be breathing and that would only be so he could get raped behind bars repetitively for years. But this fucker attacks Lisa twice—he needs to be tortured and left at sea or thrown to the militants in Syria.

Their on-going nightmare never ends though. Lisa gets her memory back during the attack only to miscarry due to the fucking piece of shit kicking her repeatedly in the stomach. I don’t know how either of them is hanging on—it has to be because they have each other. I don’t know how else you could survive such compounding hell on earth. No wonder Lance was asking God what he did wrong.

When I responded to his questions, which I knew were not directed toward me, I only knew he was struggling with a girl and their relationship. I had no idea about the depth of their love, their commitment. Lisa and Lance are meant for each other. There’s no doubt in my mind…my brother has found his soulmate.

Lucy, I yell.

No response.

Lucy—I know you’re here. Don’t hide from me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I view her tiny shadow against the cream colored wall. She replies, I’m not hiding. Why on earth would I be hiding from you?

I don’t know. It seems no one wants to talk to me. Everyone’s tip-toeing around, except for the whiney nurse who keeps trying to take my vitals when I’m resting. I’m not made of glass. I’m not going to break. Someone needs to look me in the eye and talk to me—like my best friend.

Miss Lisa, no one thinks you’re made of glass. You’ve proven—numerous times—you’re tough as nails. Hell you’re tougher than any of us. We’re simply trying to let you rest.

Where’s Lance? My face scrunches as I roll to my back.

He’s down the hall talking to some guy. That’s where I was when you hollered for me. I was trying to find him, to check on him, but then I saw him visiting with whomever so I headed back here. Plus, that’s when I heard you calling. I can’t believe you thought I was hiding. Give me a break, she admonishes me.

Who the hell is he talking to and is the guy more important than being with me? I swear, Lucy evades me, Lance chooses others over me, my doctor is missing in action, and Minnie Mouse won’t get lost…I’m over all of them. Blame it on the drugs. I have mush for brains right now. Speaking of drugs…how can I be on morphine with the baby? The machine beeps and my eyes become heavy. Lucy stares at me like a deer caught in headlights. Lucy? Before she has a chance to respond, Nurse Minnie comes blasting into the room.

Ma’am, I must take your vitals. No if, ands, or buts about it. She snatches my arm and applies the blood pressure cuff. Lucy inches her way toward the door.

Lucy, don’t you leave. I need answers. The nurse shushes me as she takes my pulse.

I’m going to grab Lance and I’ll be right back, she says, before slipping out the door.

Trapped in the room with Nurse Minnie, I endure her tasks, until I am finally able to speak. When will my doctor be by?

Probably around lunch time. May I get you anything?

Yes, I need to know how my baby is. Are we going to do an ultrasound? I’m concerned the drugs are going to harm my child.

She darts her eyes around the room avoiding my intense gaze, before replying, The doctor will have to answer your questions. I’m not at liberty to…uh…give out information. I’ll page him and make sure he comes by your room as soon as possible. Now you need to rest, ma’am. She quickly exits the room.

Lifting the sheet, I view my multitude of bruises. Purple, blue, red, green, and yellow—the colors of the rainbow—cover my torso and it isn’t beautiful like a rainbow is after a storm. No my rainbow of colors is disgusting and painful. I can’t believe Wayne found me…and beat me…again. This time I will make damn sure they lock him up and throw away the key. No other woman should ever be a victim because of Wayne Brighton’s sick mind.

Now where on earth is Lance?

Lucy bounces into the room acting more along the lines of the energizer bunny I remember. Was Lance talking to the doctor? I ask.

Displaying a silly grin, she replies, Nope, something even better. You’re not going to believe it.

What? I push the button lifting the bed, in spite of my pain, to a sitting position.

You’ll have to see it to believe it.

I’m very close to losing my shit when Lance enters the room. There you are. Where have you been? I bark.

Visiting a ghost.

What? I say, before casting my eyes upon a sandy blond version of my flyboy. He’s about the same height as Lance, muscular, with beautiful cheekbones set off by his chiseled jawline. His eyes are as blue as Lance’s and equally as gorgeous. He stands upright and erect, obviously a military man, too. My eyes dash back and forth between the two extremely hot men and I do mean HOT! He looks—

Like me, Lance interjects, with a huge smirk across his face.

The blond version of flyboy replies, Do you two always complete each other’s sentences? His deep laugh and smooth, sultry voice mesmerize me or else my drugs are really turning up the heat. Before I’m able to say another word, the golden gentleman holds my hand, kisses the top of it, and glances upward into my emerald eyes, saying, You must be Lisa. I’m Derek, Lance’s long lost—but never forgotten brother.

Brother? I sigh, without breaking eye contact. Damn, he’s hot.

Lucy squeals, That’s what the man said. Can you believe it?

No, I breathlessly mutter. Derek continues stroking his thumb across the top of my hand. Even in my debilitated state the repetitive touch strokes a flame deep within.

I told you you’d have to see it to believe it. A blond version of Lance. Who would have ever imagined two of you?

Lance snatches my hand from Derek’s. One, only one, he barks, before claiming my lips. It appears Flyboy has a jealous streak when it comes to his brother. Of course, Lucy drooling over Derek doesn’t help Lance’s insecurities.

Chill, Lance. I’m not gonna make a move on your woman, the long lost sibling replies. Still staring intently my way, he continues, At least not while she’s in a hospital bed. He laughs, before sitting in a chair and stretching his long legs across the floor.

Lance growls and glares at his brother. I tug Lance’s shirt to lower his ear to my mouth. I didn’t know you had a brother. You never mentioned him. Where did he come from?

Lance joins me on the bed, reclining my back to his chest. It hurts to move, but it’s obvious, even in my drugged state, Lance is staking his claim—on me. Derek is my half-brother. We have the same mother. Lance says mother with such disdain I cock my head to read his eyes where I discover pain and sheer disgust. Perhaps this is why he never talks about his parents.

Why have we never seen you? Do you live in the area? I ask.

"I’m in the Air Force