by Tara Wylde
“I want you, and I don’t just mean in the physical sense. I don’t know how, but in the short time I’ve known you, you’ve managed to get under my skin.”
I slide a sideways glance at him, certain he’s joking. I’m not the kind of woman men say things like this to. I’m not soft enough, not pretty enough, and not sweet enough. Yet Ronan’s expression is every bit as sincere as his tone.
My brow furrows in confusion. “What are you trying to say?”
Ronan quickly glances at the control panel before his gaze bounces back to my face. “I’m saying that there’s something about you that’s different, and while I don’t know why, I know I want to get to know you better, to explore whatever this thing is.”
My heart hammers against my ribs and my throat closes up. I don’t know how to respond. I should laugh and tell him that I don’t do relationships, that I don’t want anything to do with him, that I’m a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of girl and that he and his feelings can take a flying leap. Another part of me, a part I’ve never encountered before, keeps pointing out that there’s a spark between us; it ignited in that dreary break room back in Atlanta. That same spark keeps drawing me back to Ronan, like a moth drawn to flame.
Unable to think of a single thing to say to him, I stare at the bright lights and control gauges in front of me and remain mute.
“I think you’re feeling the same thing I am, even if you’re afraid to admit it.” Ronan’s fingers tighten on my hand. “I don’t want whatever’s taking place between us to be clouded by sex, at least not any more than it already is. I want us to go on a few dates, get to know what makes one another tick, and see what happens. I want us to keep our hands off one another and sleep in separate rooms, at least until we know where this thing is going. Okay?”
No sex? How long is he talking about? It already feels like months rather than hours have passed since the last time I had his cock buried inside of me. Still, he has a point. Maybe sex, great sex, is the only thing we have between us. Maybe if we eliminate that from the equation, he’ll turn out to be just as irritating and chauvinistic as all the other pilots Northwest hires, and I’ll be able to cut ties with him once and for all.
My eyes meet his. “Okay.”
Ronan
I nearly fall to my knees and kiss the tarmac. The asphalt, faded from years of Texas sunlight and full of cracks and even potholes, might not be everyone’s idea of beauty, but right here, right now, it looks damn good to me.
“Feels good to be home, doesn’t it?”
The soft sound of Cassie’s voice jerks me from my thoughts and I slide my gaze over to her. “Better than I ever imagined possible.”
What was supposed to be a two-week stint turned into a three and a half week flying adventure that had us bouncing from one continent to the other. Twice, Northwest had ordered our plane back to the United States and once we’d even flown all the way to Denver before we were sent back to the other side of the Atlantic. I love flying more than anything else in the world, but even I was tired of being in a cockpit. I’m also sick and tired of never having more than a handful of hours off, and never being completely sure what time zone I am waking up in.
The worst part of the entire experience was being so close to Cassie and not being able to do much about it. When I first suggested that we not sleep together until we’d had time to get to know one another, I figured we’d date in between flights. I hadn’t counted on the fact that there literally wasn’t any time to do anything but sleep and grab a bite to eat as we traveled either to or from the airport.
I’m exhausted and burned out, and that can’t possibly compare to how Cassie feels. She started this round of flying four days before I was assigned to her plane.
As far as I can tell, the way Northwest sent us out on one flight after another doesn’t technically violate any FAA laws, but I’m certain it’s not the way things are supposed to work. It’s no wonder that Cassie and a few of the other pilots I managed to speak to are cranky and irritated with the company. The long hours, combined with the way the company randomly changes the location we’re flying to, is beyond irritating.
The soles of Cassie’s rubber shoes slap against the asphalt, reminding me of the other reason I’ve been feeling out of sorts the past few days.
I tried talking to Cassie while we were flying, attempting to get to know what made her tick, what she liked, her family, but she had a knack for avoiding the topics and steering the conversation to the passengers we were shuttling around, the airport we were either flying into or out of, or the weather.
I don’t know any more about her than I did when we left Florence.
The worst part is that my damned cock doesn’t understand the concept of no sex. Every time I got near Cassie, it went hard and managed to stay that way until I either indulged in a little self-help or a cold shower. If something doesn’t give and soon, I just know I’m going to develop some sort of hideous and embarrassing medical condition.
I glance at the nine-year-old blue Chevy pickup I started driving when I decided I wanted to impersonate a normal guy who needed a job. It’s parked right where I left it, though the thick layer of dust it acquired while I was flying the friendly skies hides any trace of blue.
Cassie angles to a different section of the lot, heading toward an older model Buick Century that’s seen better days. I follow her.
“All this time together, and we haven’t had a chance to go on a single date,” I tell her. “We could change that right now. I know this cute little place that serves some of the best barbeque in San Antonio. It’s just five minutes from here. What do you say?”
Cassie glances over her shoulder at me. “Um, I can’t. I have to get home.”
“Okay, fair enough. I’m supposed to stop at my folks’ place tonight for a family dinner anyway.” I run a hand through my hair. “How ‘bout tomorrow night?”
Cassie shakes her head and digs into her pocket for her keys. “Family plans of my own.”
I narrow my eyes. This is starting to feel a lot like all those times when she refused to engage in any kind of personal conversation while we were flying. I get that she’s suspicious and that she’s had problems with guys before. I like to think that I’m fully prepared to give her all the time and space she needs, but I’m getting really tired of being blown off.
“Lunch tomorrow?”
“Can’t.” Cassie punches a button on her key fob and frowns when the Buick’s locks don’t respond. “Plans with my sister.”
She juggles the keys until she’s holding one. She jams it into the door’s keyhole and gives it a sharp twist. The lock clicks and she opens the door.
We’re scheduled to fly together in just five days and, considering how Northwest has handled our schedule the past few weeks, we might be in the cockpit again tomorrow, but I’m still reluctant to let her go before we nail down a time or place to meet. One way or another, I’m going to get to know the real Cassie.
“Fine. How about you choose a time that works for you and I’ll fit it into my schedule?”
Cassie slips behind the wheel. She starts the engine and buckles up her seat belt, somehow managing to make every single movement seem like an act of aggression.
I grab the side of the door before she can close it and drive away, which is exactly what I’m pretty sure she intended to do.
The last of my patience frays.
“Damnit, Cassie. You agreed that we should try and get to know one another. I’m doing everything in my power to make that happen while you do your level best to make things difficult. Tell me what it is you want.”
Cassie rests her hands on the bottom of the steering wheel and laughs bitterly. “You asked me that before, and I told you I didn’t know what I wanted.”
A chill settles over my heart as she rolls her shoulders. She turns her head, her dark eyes locking with mine.
“Since then I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about your question, and I’ve decided that
what I want is to be left alone.” She pulls the Buick’s door closed. “I’ll give the scheduling office a call tomorrow and let them know that you and I aren’t compatible and that we’ll both need to be assigned to new copilots. Hopefully, it won’t be a problem.”
Her left foot presses down on the gas pedal and she peels out of the airport parking lot without another word. Leaving me alone and staring at her taillights.
Cassie
It takes a full fifteen miles before my hands stop shaking against the Buick’s steering wheel. I can’t believe how hard telling Ronan to take a hike was.
Not that I expected it to be easy.
The last leg of our journey was a non-stop flight from Chicago to San Antonio and I spent the entire time silently talking to myself. Making a list of the various reasons that we needed to end things and trying to compose a good speech.
Telling him I wasn’t interested had taken everything I’d had, but it was for the best. If there’s one thing I’ve learned the past few weeks, it’s that Ronan’s a great guy. It’s one of the few things I’m completely sure of. That, and the fact that he deserves someone much better than me.
As soon as he said he wanted to explore a relationship, I threw up every barrier I have. Whenever he tried to get even a little bit closer to me, I’d tense up, and do everything in my power to redirect his attention, hating myself the entire time I was doing so but unable to stop myself. After three and a half weeks of this, it was time I admitted the truth.
I needed to cut my losses and push Ronan away once and for all.
He’s a bright guy and a skilled pilot. He has the potential to do so much with his life. Even if I get lucky enough to get a better job at a less sleazy airline, I’m still going to be carrying around so much baggage that it’d drag both of us down.
Yep, cutting him loose is for the best.
I just wish I could forget the stunned and hurt look on his face when I drove away. It made me feel like the world’s most heartless bitch.
My Buick purrs as I angle the steering wheel, directing the big car off the highway and onto the pretty two-lane road that leads to my home. The big buildings and congestion of San Antonio fade away, replaced by the occasional ranch house and wide, seemingly endless fields of cotton that are just starting to come to a head. Every once in a while, I drive past a large pasture that’s full of chubby beef cattle. Cotton and cattle, two of Texas’s biggest crops.
Usually the pretty and familiar landmarks soothe me, providing a moment of peace for the short time that exists between the airport and my home, but not today. The sadness triggered by ripping away from Ronan refuses to abate. I can’t stop wondering what it would be like to go out on a real date with him, to talk about something other than flying, maybe do a little dancing, to have him drive me home and walk me to the front door before placing a toe-curling kiss on my lips.
Oops. Big mistake. I shouldn’t have let my imagination go as far as a kiss. It’s all my body needs to start revving up. For my entire adult life, I’ve always been fine with the occasional lay, but now that I’ve slept with Ronan and my body knows exactly how good an orgasm or two really is, it’s like I’m in a semi-constant state of arousal.
I’m blaming Ronan for it. I thought that his stupid, no sex until we get to know one another thing would help me flush the taste, scent, and feel of him from my senses, but it didn’t. Instead, it only made things worse. It was particularly bad the last couple of flights. I wanted him so badly I was tempted to strip off all my clothes and throw myself at him, not caring that such an action was both dangerous and illegal.
I drum my fingers against the steering wheel.
Maybe Ronan wasn’t the reason the sex had been so great. Maybe I’ve finally reached a point where my body’s sensitivities and hormone levels are perfectly attuned and that as a result sex with anyone would be fantastic. Maybe the only thing I need to do to take the edge off is head to the nearest bar and invite some guy to try out the back seat of my Buick.
The only problem with that plan is that the thought of having a guy’s hands on me that aren’t Ronan’s leaves me cold.
Why do I want him so badly?
I nearly fly past my house. The bright turquoise stripe on a white background catches my eye a split second before I speed past the driveway. Rubber screams against the asphalt, leaving two strips of black in my car’s wake. I jerk the wheel to the left, putting the car on two wheels as I slide into the driveway.
By the time I reach the small area that serves as a parking lot in front of the house trailer, I have the car under control. I shift it into park and let myself out of the car. A few chickens are pecking at the grass; one, a pretty Rhode Island Red, lifts her head and peers at me with her small bright eyes. For some reason, the sight of the chickens always calms me.
A screen door slams shut against its rickety frame. I glance at the large stoop that doubles as a front porch and lock eyes with my mother.
“It’s ‘bout time you showed up.” She tugs at the bottom of her worn Texas A & M sweatshirt and glares down at me from her perch. “I was starting to think you’d decided to cut ties with us.”
“I came home as soon as I could. Northwest had extra work for me.”
Deanna Kirby wrinkles her nose. “That’s what you always say, but I figure you’re just using that as an excuse so you’ll have more time for cattin’ ‘round.”
Heat floods my face. This isn’t the first time my mother has accused me of “cattin’ ‘round,” her words for chasing after guys and having sex with any that give me the time of day, but it is the first time when there’s been an iota of truth to the accusation.
My mother doesn’t miss a beat. Her eyes narrow and a broad, not nice, grin spreads across her face. “Oh ho! Looks like someone finally stepped down of her pedestal and spent some time among us mere mortals for a change.”
My shoulders sag. This is one of the reasons I don’t dare get involved with Ronan. Five minutes after meeting my mother, he’ll start wondering when I’m going to turn into her, and to be completely honest, he won’t be alone. The past few years, I’ve noticed I’ve become less tolerant and far more shrewish, which feels like the start of the slippery slope into becoming the same bitter, mean woman standing above me.
There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell her about Ronan. It’s bad enough his expression when I told him to get lost is branded in my mind. I won’t let her spoil the good memories I have of him.
“Mom, I’ve never said that I’m better than you.” Though there have been a few times when I’ve thought it.
She snorts. “No, but you constantly walk around this place, your nose stuck up in the air, talking about how you’re the only one who ever earns any money, how I could do better for your sister.”
Familiar bile burns in my gut as I mount the stairs and push my way past her into the house trailer I share with my mom and older sister. As much as I want to argue with her, to tell her she’s wrong, I don’t. We’ve been over this more times than I can count. Responding to the comments will only lead to a shouting match that won’t solve anything and leave me feeling useless and bitter.
She follows me into the kitchen. Crossing her arms over her wide chest, she props a shoulder against a wall and watches me search the cupboards for a glass. There isn’t one. In fact, there’s not a single clean dish in the cupboard. I glance at the sink. It’s so full of dirty dishes that they spill out onto the counter.
No one has probably washed them since I left four weeks ago.
I open the dishwasher. It’s already full of dirty dishes. I remove a few that look like they’ll prevent the others from getting clean and fill the small compartments with dish soap. Shutting the door, I hit the start switch.
With that chore done, I turn to face my mother.
“I’m sorry, Mom. The airline booked all sorts of extra flights and kept me flying a lot longer than planned.” Sometimes an explanation is enough to appease her.
S
he rolls her eyes. “That excuse is old and tired, just like me.”
“I know.” I roll my neck from side to side. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
“You could have called.”
“I did. I’ve talked to Sally once a week while I was gone, just like I always do.” She opens her mouth to say something snide, but I rush to cut her off. “But I should call more. It’s inconsiderate that I don’t.”
“Hmph.” My mom storms across the small kitchen and opens the fridge door. She pulls out a beer. “Did you take care of the problem with your check?”
The bottom drops out of my stomach. “What problem?”
My mom pops the top and takes a generous swig. “It didn’t show up.”
I close my eyes. Mine is the only incoming source of income we have and, while it stretches enough to cover the bills, there’s never much left over. When something goes wrong with the direct deposit, we quickly go through my savings, which takes forever to replace. It doesn’t help that I have to wait a full pay period for Northwest to correct the problem, yet another reason I can’t wait for my contract to run out so I can start working for another airline.
“Which paycheck didn’t get deposited?” There should have been two. Please let it be the second one that didn’t make it to the bank. At least I hadn’t been counting on that one to pay any major bills.
“Neither of them.”
Shit! It’s my worst nightmare.
A glance at the clock shows that Northwest’s financial department is already closed.
“I’ll go to the airport tomorrow morning, find out what happened.” Please, let this be the one time they manage to take care of it quickly. I can’t afford to wait a full two weeks to correct the issue. “Why didn’t you let me know sooner?”
My mom shoots me a dirty look. “I did. Since you only call Sally and not me, I sent a text to your phone. You probably ignored it, just like you do everything else.”