New York Times Bestselling Author

Chapter One

 Obadiah Engle, known as Obi-Wan to just about everyone, shook his head in amazement as he drove through the security checkpoint at the entrance to the movie set just outside Norfolk. He was arriving for his first day on the job as military advisor. It felt a little surreal that someone like him—a regular lower- to middle-class boy from North Carolina who grew up loving helicopters—was in this position.

He’d been hired for award-winning big-shot Hollywood director Henry Grubbner’s new film, about a helicopter pilot being shot down in North Korea. Obi-Wan couldn’t say it was a dream-come-true job, as he was already doing that as a Night Stalker pilot for the US Army. But it was certainly a high point in his life. It was exciting and a change in his usual routine.

At thirty-three, Obi-Wan wasn’t exactly old, but he felt as if he was in a bit of a rut. Doing the same thing day after day. Attending meetings on the naval base and being deployed to various places around the world to shuttle special forces teams to and from the various top-secret, highly dangerous missions they were assigned.

He loved flying. Was obsessed with planes and helicopters from a young age. His parents had indulged him, even encouraging his interest. He wasn’t super-close with his mom and dad, but he owed them for what he’d become today.

Butterflies swirled in Obi-Wan’s belly as he parked his Jeep Wrangler and headed for the large hangar that had been built for the movie. From the itinerary he’d received, day one was mostly about meeting the staff he’d be consulting with. He was excited to see how the rest of the morning would unfold and to get a feel for how things worked.

His Night Stalker team had given him a rash of shit for not telling them what he was up to lately, when not sitting behind the controls of his chopper and between missions. But they were also intrigued. He’d signed an NDA, so he couldn’t talk a lot about the actual movie, but he was looking forward to sharing as much as he could about the new experience with his best friends.

Though, Obi-Wan also knew he’d be very busy for the next few months. He wouldn’t have a lot of down time. Between work for the Army and this gig, he’d probably be getting very little sleep, what with traveling between the naval base and the movie set regularly.

Making sure his badge was prominently displayed, he walked back by the security checkpoint, respectfully nodding at the men and women working there, and opened the door to the hangar.

To his surprise, it looked and sounded much like the hangar back at the naval base, with a lot of people milling about. But unlike on the base, there were also cameras mounted on what looked like train tracks everywhere he looked. Men and women wearing headsets scurried around as if loaded up on caffeine and stimulants…which they probably were.

Obi-Wan had no idea where he was supposed to go or what he was expected to do. He felt out of his element, which wasn’t a feeling he usually experienced when he was inside a hangar.

Just when he was about to stop one of the people rushing by, Obi-Wan noticed a woman walking toward him.

Everything faded into the background as she came closer.

He’d never seen her in any of the Zoom meetings he’d had with various producers and assistants. He would’ve remembered if he had. She was shorter than his five-foot-nine height—he estimated she was around five-five or six. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck, and she wore a pair of navy cargo pants with several items in the pockets on the sides of her thighs. Her blue polo shirt had some sort of logo on the left breast. He couldn’t make out the color of her eyes yet, but would guess they were probably some sort of shade of green, just based on the color of her hair.

She was lean and obviously fit, her expression intense—and she was completely focused on him, which made Obi-Wan stand up straighter.

He had no idea who she was, but he couldn’t deny that he was relieved. It looked as if he wouldn’t have to wander around looking like an idiot, trying to figure out where he was supposed to go, after all.

When she got close enough, Obi-Wan saw that his suspicions were correct. Her eyes were a deep shade of green. Like the waters he’d seen one week while vacationing in Maine. Green with flecks of tan. Her lips were full and shiny, as if she’d just applied lip gloss or ChapStick. She wore very little makeup otherwise—and she didn’t need it anyway, because her skin was flawless. She was beautiful just as she was.

His heart was beating faster than normal, and Obi-Wan had only a split second to be a little worried about the effect this stranger was having on him before she spoke.

“Hi! You must be Obadiah Engle, yeah?”

“Obi-Wan,” he corrected immediately.

“Excuse me?” she asked with an adorable frown.

“No one calls me Obadiah. I go by Obi-Wan.”

“Oh…that’s your call sign, right?” she asked.

“Call sign, nickname, tac name, whatever you want to call it.”

To his surprise, the woman grinned. It was a mischievous smile, one that made Obi-Wan wonder what she was thinking.

She didn’t make him wonder for long.

“I can picture it now. A woman in the throes of ecstasy yelling out, ‘More, Obi-Wan! Right there, Obi-Wan! Harder, Obi-Wan!’”

  Stunned, he was at a loss for words for a moment. Her joke was totally something his teammates would say. But before he could respond, the woman turned an intense shade of pink, then grimaced.

“Oh my God! I’m sorry. That was so rude and completely inappropriate. I’m not usually so crass. I just…it’s been a hectic morning. The first couple of days on a shoot usually are. Can we start over? I’m Zita. Zita Darlington. I don’t have a nickname, unless you count ‘hey you’ or ‘Doc.’ I’m not a doctor though, I’m the set medic. I’m in charge of making sure things are safe, and if people get hurt, I’m the one who sees to them. I’m pretty much invisible until someone breaks a hand or gets their nose bloodied. Not that those things happen a lot, as Henry’s a stickler for safety on his sets. But since we’re not filming yet and I have some downtime, I was asked to meet you this morning and give you a tour. So, it’s very nice to meet you, Obi-Wan. Welcome to the set of Broken Wings.”

She was babbling now, and for some reason, Obi-Wan didn’t think it was as annoying as he might have with anyone else. He was a get-to-the-point kind of guy who normally hated when people made small talk, always preferring for others to say what they wanted to say and move on. Part of that came from needing intel fast and furious when he was flying. And part of it came from the fact his mom could talk the ears off anyone and everyone. The person checking them out in the grocery store, parents of his friends, his teachers during parent-teacher meetings.

His mom was friendly, but it always annoyed Obi-Wan when she felt the need to tell her life story—and his—to everyone she met.

But listening to Zita—he loved her interesting and unusual name—babble on and try to cover up her inappropriate comment about his nickname was hilarious.

“Growing up, some people called me Sage,” he told her. “It’s my middle name, and around fourth grade I got sick of being picked on because of my name, so I decided to start using Sage instead. It took a while to catch on, but after shoving a few kids when they called me Obadiah, they decided for their own well-being to go ahead and call me Sage. I don’t usually condone violence, but changing my name made my life a whole lot easier growing up.”

“Okay. Sage. That’s cool. Great. Um…look, I’m sorry about being inappropriate earlier. I’m used to hanging around other medics and EMTs. We have kind of a warped sense of humor. We use it as a defense mechanism, I guess. When things get intense or go bad on a call, we tend to make jokes rather than fall apart.”

“You’ve seen some bad shit.”

“Yeah. You can’t be a paramedic and go on nine-one-one calls and not see some pretty horrible things. But thankfully, most of our calls are routine. Lift-assists, sick people, falls, things like that. I’m sure you’ve seen your share of bad stuff too.”

Obi-Wan nodded and said simply, “Yeah.”

“Now that I’ve totally embarrassed myself and put my foot in my mouth at the earliest opportunity, how about that tour I’m supposed to be giving you?” She looked at the watch on her wrist. “You’re scheduled to meet Carmen and Logan, the main actors in the movie, which of course you know, at six a.m. That’s in about thirty minutes. Although, we probably have more time than that, since Carmen’s rarely on time for anything. And I’m not gossiping when I say that. Anyone will tell you the same thing. She’s always told anything she’s involved in starts a half hour before it actually does, so she can be on time. Come on, I’ll show you where everything is.”

Obi-Wan found himself grinning. He nodded and fell into step beside the dynamo of a woman who instantly made him feel more comfortable in the unfamiliar surroundings.

As they walked both around the hangar and the areas immediately outside, and she pointed out different things, including the break room full of snacks, the smoking area—unnecessary for him—and trailers where the stars and the director hung out between takes, it wasn’t lost on him how many people greeted Zita. She was friendly and outgoing, and everyone they passed or she stopped to introduce him to seemed genuinely happy to see her.

She was one of those rare people who were universally liked. Obi-Wan assumed some of that was because she wasn’t there to tell others how to do their job or critique them. She was there to help if someone was injured or got sick.

By the time the tour was over, Obi-Wan was struck anew with awe that he was even there. And overwhelmed with the responsibility on his shoulders. He wanted to be sure this movie was as accurate as possible. If he messed up anything, it could reflect poorly on the Army, and the Night Stalkers, and possibly even his own team. Which was unacceptable.

“You ready to meet Carmen and Logan?” Zita asked.

“Sure. Anything I should know before I meet them?”

Obi-Wan could tell Zita wanted to say something, but she simply shrugged.

He respected the fact that she didn’t want to spread gossip or say something out of line. Which was amusing, since the first words out of her mouth were pretty much just that. But Obi-Wan wasn’t a man to take offense easily. He was more amused than offended by her observation of women using his nickname in bed. And honestly, she wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t promiscuous, but the few times someone had actually called out his nickname in the middle of making love, it was definitely weird. And that was saying a lot, since he’d gotten used to everyone using his call sign over his given name years ago.

“Seriously. I don’t want to start out on the wrong foot with either of them. If there’s a topic I should stay away from, please tell me,” he cajoled.

“Okay. Do not compare Logan to Hugh Jackman. He hates the man. I have no idea why. And don’t comment on his name either. Logan Striker is cheesy as hell, and of course it’s made up, but he loves it. So whatever you do, steer away from those two topics.”

“Got it. Don’t mention the Dead Pool and Wolverine movie, and don’t talk about nicknames. Easy enough. What about Carmen?”

If he hadn’t been watching Zita so closely, he would’ve missed the slight wince before she smoothed out her expression.

“I don’t think you need to worry about her. She’s gonna take one look at you and bend over backward to make a good impression.”

“Me? I’m a nobody. She’s Carmen St. James. All of her films have been huge hits.”

“You’re male. A hotshot Night Stalker pilot. Gorgeous. And at the end of the shoot, she’ll go back to Hollywood and you’ll stay here. You’re perfect for her.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but feel a jolt of satisfaction that Zita thought he was good-looking. But he pushed the thought down. He wasn’t here to fall into bed with anyone. He wasn’t looking for a fling. No matter how rich and famous a woman was…or how intriguing and cute.

“I’m not here for any kind of relationship,” he said firmly.

“Doesn’t matter. Carmen gets what Carmen wants. And she’s totally gonna want you.”

The last part was said under her breath.

Obi-Wan stopped walking, forcing Zita to turn around and look at him in question.

“Sage?”

He couldn’t deny hearing the name he’d used growing up, that so few people used these days, made him feel…special. He didn’t understand the feeling. But now wasn’t the time or place to figure out why this blunt, say-what-she-was-thinking woman had him so intrigued.

“Don’t leave me alone with her,” he blurted, sounding slightly desperate.

Obi-Wan had recently endured a bad experience with another woman who’d decided he was going to be her next fuck. She’d spotted him at Anchor Point with his friends…and proceeded to pester him incessantly for weeks. It was annoying as hell, and she’d almost ruined his pleasure in going to the team’s favorite hole-in-the-wall bar. She seemed obsessed with bagging a Night Stalker, and it was only because her family moved to the other side of the country that he’d actually gotten a reprieve.

Not that he thought a world-famous actress would take one look at him and decide she just had to have him. In fact, most people might think he was being conceited, assuming it could happen twice…but Obi-Wan didn’t want to take any chances. He’d been told often enough that he was good-looking, and that, plus his job as an elite helicopter pilot was apparently enough to make some women lose all common sense.

He was a man who liked to do the pursuing. He preferred taking the traditional role in a courtship. He enjoyed dating, holding hands, getting to know a woman. Not that he didn’t like to know a woman was interested…but there was a definite line between interest and obsession.

To his relief, Zita didn’t laugh. Or roll her eyes.

She simply said, “I won’t.”

Obi-Wan nodded. He was glad for Zita’s warning. There was always the possibility that she was jealous, that she didn’t like Carmen because she was beautiful enough to get any man she wanted. But he didn’t think so. Zita was gorgeous in her own right, and she seemed down to earth. Grounded.

She also hadn’t been eager to share her thoughts.

All things that led him to believe what she was saying was worth taking to heart. And that he needed to be extremely cautious in what he said and did around Carmen St. James.

Looking at her phone after it chimed, Zita said, “They’re waiting for us. We need to go. The last thing we want is to throw off the first day’s filming schedule.”

“Lead on,” Obi-Wan said.

Zita looked at him for a long moment, then nodded and turned, heading for the director’s trailer.

She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but had to hold out hope he could find her in time.

Obadiah “Obi-Wan” Engle lives for his career as a Night Stalker pilot…but even the most harrowing job can become routine. So he’s thrilled when he’s hired as a military advisor on a Hollywood director’s latest blockbuster. But day one on the Norfolk set and he feels like a fish out of water—then he’s knocked further off-kilter when he meets female lead Carmen St. James. She takes one look at Obi-Wan and decides he’s going to be her bed warmer while she’s in town…whether he’s interested or not.

The spoiled actress will have to get used to disappointment. Because someone else on set has already caught his eye…

Paramedic Zita Darlington has worked on countless film shoots, and never once has she felt tempted to mix business with pleasure. Sure, she and Obadiah have a lot in common. And yes, the kind man brings her coffee every day. And okay, fine, he’s the most gorgeous guy she’s ever laid eyes on…but she’s in town for a limited time and they live on opposite sides of the country. How can they make a relationship work? As the shoot progresses, and Zita and Obi-Wan spend more and more time together, they both decide they want to find out.

But hell hath no fury like a starlet scorned. Especially one with a lot of money, resources, and people more than willing to do her bidding.

Keeping Zita

Feb 10, 2026