New York Times Bestselling Author

Keeping Laryn

Now that he’s opened his eyes to love, he’s flying high…and losing her could be his greatest crash and burn.

For three years, Laryn Hardy has been a Night Stalker mechanic. Tirelessly working on their choppers, keeping the pilots safe with her skills…and falling ever deeper in love with Tate Davis. But the hotshot airman sees her as nothing more than a sparring partner, and it’s too painful to be overlooked by the man she’s wanted forever, which is why she’s been exploring contract options elsewhere. But when one interested party gets a little too pushy, she decides to lay off the job search. Just in time, too—because out of nowhere, Tate suddenly seems to have realized she exists.

After a recent mission went FUBAR, ending in the necessary destruction of his chopper, Tate “Casper” Davis got the berating of a lifetime from his spunky mechanic. But not before he saw the emotional toll Laryn suffered over his ordeal. In that moment, he saw the feelings she’d been hiding…and the beautiful, talented woman who’s been right under his nose. As if tending to his chopper on the job isn’t enough, Laryn also proves she’s his safe space at home, when Casper finds himself in a vulnerable position he never imagined. Yeah. She’s it for him. Now he just has to convince her.

Unfortunately, the couple are just days into exploring their new connection when they’re deployed halfway around the world—bringing Laryn that much closer to a person determined to learn US military secrets, force her to use her skills against her government…and steal her away from Tate forever.

Chapter One


Laryn Hardy swore as the wrench she was using slipped and she scraped the hell out of her knuckles.

“You good?” asked one of her favorite Army personnel she worked with, Sergeant Wells—or Chuck, as she called him.

“Yeah!” Laryn told him brightly. But honestly? She wasn’t good. She was frustrated, hungry, and frankly, exhausted. She might be one of the best MH-60 mechanics in the world, but she was also human. And right now, all she wanted was to walk out of the hangar and say to hell with her job, working with the Army, and tiptoeing around all the BS she had to deal with on a daily basis.

Her worst nightmare had come true last month when one of “her” choppers went down in Iraq and was lost. The Army freaked out. The Navy freaked out. Everyone wanting to know if the pilots had been able to destroy the helicopter so the highly classified information onboard, and the machine itself, wouldn’t fall into enemy hands.

But Laryn remembered the first thought she’d had after hearing about the crash. It wasn’t about the thousands of hours she’d spent making the chopper as safe as possible. It wasn’t the additional hours and hours of time she’d have to spend in the future to redo all the work that was destroyed by one enemy RPG.

It was the absolute panic she’d felt at not knowing if the people onboard had survived the crash.

Especially helicopter pilot Tate “Casper” Davis.

Sighing, Laryn slumped against the side of the chopper and closed her eyes as the fear and worry she’d felt the moment she’d heard about the crash swept over her once more.

She’d been in love with the Night Stalker pilot from almost the first moment she’d met him, but it was more than obvious he didn’t feel the same. Which wasn’t exactly a surprise. She wasn’t the kind of woman men fell head over heels for. She was on the short side, at five foot five. Her long dark hair was nothing special, particularly when it was usually just pulled back in a bun at her nape to keep it out of the way of the engines and mechanical parts she worked on every day. She never wore makeup; there was no point, because she would’ve sweated it away before ten in the morning. Her daily clothing consisted of oversized coveralls, usually stained with grease and who knew what else.

Her nails were short and often broken. Her hands were covered in old scars, and scabs from more recent injuries—like the one she’d just added to her collection of scrapes. And being the only child of a single father, whose idea of a good time had been taking her to the dirt races around rural Tennessee where she’d grown up to teach her everything there was to know about working under the hoods of cars…Well, she was more comfortable around older, somewhat crass rednecks than smooth, confident, best-of-the-best helicopter pilots.

And yet, the first time she saw Tate, she fell hard and fast.

Which should’ve been ridiculous. He was…well, he was Casper. The hotshot Night Stalker. Probably conceited, and rightly so. Yet, when she’d been introduced to him, he’d looked her in the eye, made her feel as if he was one hundred percent focused on her and what she was saying…and he didn’t make her feel as if she was beneath him, as many other pilots had done simply because she was a mechanic.

For twenty minutes, they’d had an in-depth, intense conversation about the upgrades she was making to his chopper. He’d had good insights and suggestions, and when she contradicted something he said, he didn’t get weird or egotistical about it. By the time he walked away, showing off his perfect ass in his flight suit, he’d killed any chance she might’ve had at a relationship with anyone else.

It was stupid. Absurd. Juvenile. And yet, in the three years since she’d met him, Laryn hadn’t dated anyone. She’d held on to the tiniest hope that maybe someday, if she was extremely lucky, he might see her as more than just the head mechanic assigned to work on his precious helicopter.

Since then, she and Tate had fallen into a weird kind of dance in regard to their relationship…if what they had could be called a relationship. She’d berate him for treating her “baby,” his helicopter, too harshly, and he’d pick on her for being too much of a perfectionist. They’d gripe at each other good-naturedly back and forth. Things were light and superficial between them, and Laryn had no idea how to change that. She liked that he was at ease with her—at least, she thought he was—but hated that they didn’t talk about anything personal.

And anyway, why would they? She was just a mechanic. He was a Night Stalker. One of the most highly decorated pilots in the Army. He and his team of five other pilots had even been awarded a coveted special contract out of Norfolk, Virginia, which was extremely unusual. They were deployed on special missions with Navy SEALs and were even utilized for dangerous rescue missions in the civilian world. They were regularly deployed at a moment’s notice, and could literally be on the other side of the world, flying between mountaintops, over oceans, or across valleys full of soldiers eager to shoot them down one day, and then lounging at their favorite hangout, Anchor Point, the next.

And because she was the best of the best, she’d been hired as the head mechanic to look after the helicopters the Night Stalkers flew—so she went wherever they went. She’d spent more time on huge Navy ships in the last year than she had in her own small apartment near the base.

Her thoughts circled back around to the moment when she’d heard that Casper and his copilot, Pyro, had crashed, and she shuddered. She’d been terrified that the man she was head over heels for had died. The relief she’d felt when she’d heard that he was all right, that everyone on the chopper was alive and well, was followed by a determination to stop being such a coward. To let the man know she was interested in him…personally.

But from the moment they’d returned to Virginia, she’d been neck deep in chopper parts. In making sure the next helicopter Tate flew would be just as safe as the one that had been lost. They’d fallen back into their usual banter…Tate joking with her as if she were a male buddy, and her sniping at him for being careless and not taking his safety more seriously. In other words, she fell back into the role she’d assumed early on—that of a nitpicking harpy.

“Are you sleeping on the job?”

Laryn’s eyes popped open and she looked over at Chuck. He was standing next to the door of the chopper, staring in at her.

“No,” she said a tad bit defensively. “Resting my eyes.”

“Why don’t you go home?” he asked. “You’ve been here for…” He looked down at the watch on his wrist. “Way too long.”

“I need to finish retrofitting the rigging system for the fast ropes,” Laryn protested. “Need to make sure everything is perfect for the flight trial in a couple days.”

“No, you don’t. Everything is fine. You’ve already made sure of that. You need to get more than three hours of sleep at a time. Go home,” he insisted.

He couldn’t actually order her to do anything. Chuck was in the Army. Laryn wasn’t. She was an independent contractor. Yes, she had to adhere to some of the Army’s rules, but she was the senior mechanic. The person in charge. The head honcho. In the hangar, she was his boss, actually. But the truth was…she was ready for a break.

“Okay,” she said a little belatedly.

“Okay?” he said skeptically.

Laryn chuckled. “Is that so surprising?”

“Well, yeah. You never do what anyone tells you to do. I think if someone told you to run out of a burning house, you’d run into it instead, just to be contrary.”

“I’m not that bad,” Laryn protested.

In response, he simply lifted an eyebrow.

Chuck was pretty young at twenty-four, but he was an excellent mechanic, and Laryn enjoyed working with him. Though, right now, his reaction made her press her lips together.

She couldn’t help the way she was. Her dad had taught her to be strong, tough, independent. He never took any excuses from her. Even when she was in elementary school, he’d had her at the track and under the hoods of cars. Homework was put on the back burner. Boys were definitely off the table when she got older. But she’d gladly spent every minute she could with her dad. When he’d unexpectedly died when she was nineteen and at her first duty station in the Army, she’d been devastated.

So yeah…she was her father’s daughter, and she didn’t like anyone telling her what to do. And if someone dared tell her she couldn’t do something? Wasn’t strong enough, smart enough, tall enough…she did whatever it took to prove them wrong.

And now she was the most sought-after helicopter mechanic in the country. Even internationally. She’d even gotten several very lucrative offers in the last couple of years to work overseas for other countries’ governments, but she’d turned them all down.

Because of a stupid crush.

Tate would be fine without her. Probably wouldn’t even realize she’d left. And yet, she couldn’t make herself go. That weakness was ridiculous.

Shaking off the thoughts that threatened to send her into a self-deprecating downward spiral, Laryn fisted the wrench she’d been using when she’d scraped another layer of skin off her knuckles and shoved it into one of the deep pockets along her thigh before standing. The interior of the chopper was tall enough that she could walk to the opening without having to stoop. Chuck stood back, knowing better than to offer his hand to help her out, and she nimbly hopped to the ground.

“Are you really going home?” he asked.

“Yes. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon,” Laryn told him, making a split-second decision.

His eyes widened. “You’re taking the rest of today and most of tomorrow off?”

“Yup. I’ve been working my ass off. I need a break. And you’re right, I also need sleep. Lots of it.” Since Laryn was a contractor, her hours weren’t as rigid as those of the military guys she worked with. And since she was the boss, she had more leeway to come and go as she pleased. But it wasn’t as if she took unfair advantage of that. She was usually the first to arrive and the last to leave. Many nights she’d still been working at one or two in the morning. She hated leaving things unfinished, and when she thought about what could happen if she got lazy on the job—namely, pilots getting hurt because of something she’d done or not done—it made her physically nauseous.

But Chuck was right, she’d worked her ass off to get this chopper up to speed, and it was as ready as it was going to be. She had no doubt that Tate and Pyro wouldn’t find anything wrong when they took it up to test it out.

“Wow, okay. Enjoy your time off,” Chuck told her, sounding sincere.

“Don’t fuck with my machine,” Laryn warned, narrowing her eyes. “I mean it. Keep everyone away from her.”

“I will,” he reassured her. “We all know how you are with your choppers. We wouldn’t dare touch so much as a bolt without your say-so.”

Laryn internally winced. There she went, being overcontrolling again. It was a good thing she worked with all men; women wouldn’t be able to take her brash and demanding attitude. She had to admit that she’d gotten worse over the years while trying to fit in, be one of the guys.

Now, for the first time in a long time, she didn’t want to be a guy. She wished she had some girlfriends she could call up for a girls’ night. Wine. Relaxing. Watching ridiculous reality TV and eating junk food. Instead, all she had was her empty apartment, coworkers who were half-scared of her and way too young for her to hang out with, and a man she pined for who didn’t know she existed, except when he had a question about his precious chopper.

Not for the first time, she had the thought that she needed to get out of the rut she was in. Maybe she should consider taking one of the offers she’d received and move away from Norfolk. Go to Turkey to work for the Gendarmerie Special Operations Unit. They had a couple of MH-60s and had been desperately trying to recruit Laryn to come work for them. Tate Davis and his fellow Night Stalkers wouldn’t even know she was gone. She was just another mechanic. Someone else could maintain their helicopters.

Of course, it wasn’t that easy, considering what she did now was top secret and the US government wouldn’t just shrug and let her go work for another country. There would be nondisclosure agreements to sign and tons of other legal hoops to jump through.

But she was being ridiculous. She wasn’t leaving. No matter how much money was dangled over her head to try to woo her away from her current position. Not as long as Tate Davis was flying her choppers. The thought of leaving his safety to someone else was…unfathomable.

Laryn nodded at Chuck and headed for the hangar door, bracing herself for the heat. It was the end of August and the weather was still hot and muggy here on the Virginia coast. Soon the cooler air would move in, and Laryn couldn’t wait.

She was so out of it with hunger and exhaustion, and with all the thoughts swirling in her head about her future and her pathetic social life, that she almost ran smack dab into someone entering the hangar.

“Whoa!” the deep voice said. His hands landed on her shoulders, keeping her from falling back on her ass.

Looking up, she saw it was the one man in the world she both desperately wanted to see, and the last man she wanted to be face-to-face with at that moment.

Tate.

“Where ya going? I thought you lived here at the hangar,” he joked.

But Laryn wasn’t in the mood. Even if he wasn’t exactly wrong. “Home. I’ve been here all day and I’m fried. I’m assuming you’re here to check my work. If you find anything off, let Chuck know. He’ll pass along your complaints when I get back tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’m not here to check up on you. I was just curious as to what you’d gotten done,” Tate protested. His copilot, Pyro, was behind him. He clapped him on the shoulder and continued toward the chopper Laryn had just left behind.

“I’ve gotten everything done,” she told him with a sigh, and without her usual sassiness. “It’s more than ready for you to test her out in a couple days. And I’ve told the colonel that I won’t sign off on the chopper being ready until I’m one hundred percent sure it is ready and that you, the pilot, thinks it’s ready.”

“I know, that’s what makes you an amazing mechanic,” Tate told her.

She stared at him, and a pang hit her as it always did when she looked into his blue eyes. He had a twin brother, Nate, but she thought Tate was the better looking of the two. Which was kind of silly, considering they were identical. But to her, there were subtle differences. Tate was more confident, outgoing, and even though he was only thirty-four, he had a bit of silver in his hair that his twin didn’t, giving him a more distinguished air. His hair was also a little longer than military regulations stipulated, but she supposed as a hotshot Night Stalker, he had a bit of leeway where that was concerned.

And she couldn’t deny the freckles on his face were adorable. She wondered if they covered him…everywhere.

Aware that her thoughts went where they always did when she was around this man, Laryn was more abrupt than usual. “We done here?”

Tate blinked. “Yeah.”

Laryn gave him a nod and stepped to the side and continued on her way. Her skin tingled, as if she could feel his gaze on her as she walked, but she refused to look back at him.

She was going home to heat up a frozen meal, shower, then crash for hopefully a good eight hours.

But her intentions of not looking back at Tate faltered, and before she walked out of sight of the hangar, she couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder.

Her heartrate increased when she saw Tate standing where she’d left him. And he was indeed staring right at her. He gave her one of those chin lifts she saw him and his fellow pilots using all the time. He wasn’t smirking at her, as usual. He looked serious and…concerned?

No, she had to be imagining that, because Tate Davis didn’t look at her with concern. Ever. She was simply the mechanic he relied on to keep his chopper running at top form.

But something about the way he was looking at her, and hadn’t moved from where they’d had their short conversation, struck her as…atypical. In fact, ever since he’d crashed in Iran, he’d been acting a bit differently toward her. She wasn’t sure why, or even exactly how different it was until right this moment. Now she realized the old Tate would’ve shrugged off her words and continued into the hangar to check out how the work was progressing on his chopper.

Also in the last month, she’d found his gaze on her more than once. Caught him staring at her, almost as if he was trying to figure her out.

Under no circumstances could he ever learn that she’d had a massive crush on him for years. 

Was that even the right word? Crush? She didn’t think so. She wasn’t thirteen. She was a grown-ass woman. She admired Tate. Respected him. Loved him.

Sighing, she continued on toward her car. It was her dad’s old 1990 Honda Civic Hatchback. It looked ancient, but Laryn kept her running as smoothly as a brand-new car. Sure, she’d had to replace the engine and most of the parts, but every time she saw it, she smiled, because it made her think about her dad and all the time they’d spent in it together going to and from races. It was the first car she’d changed the oil in all by herself…under her dad’s watchful eye, of course.

She was barely awake by the time she arrived home. She stumbled up the stairs to her second-floor apartment and decided food and a shower could wait. She collapsed onto the couch after taking off her steel-toed boots and reached for the fluffy blanket carelessly draped over the back, where she’d left it. She was asleep in seconds, not even the mystery of why Tate was acting so differently around her enough to keep her awake.