A Risk Worth Taking

by Melissa Klein

  He shoved the phone in his pocket and placed his hand on her arm. Even in the dim light she could see the sincerity in the depths of his blue eyes. “It’s me who needs to apologize. Obviously, I overstepped my bounds.”

  She hated him shouldering the blame since she’d wanted the kiss as much as he did. But, admitting as much would only lead him to think she was a cougar who routinely prowled weddings. She extended her hand to him and offered him a smile she didn’t quite feel. “Let’s chalk it up to the romantic atmosphere.”

  As he took the hand she offered, he didn’t seem so sure. “Sure, okay, that’s probably what it was.” He looked over his shoulder at the hotel then down at his clothes. “Everyone should be coming out in a few minutes for the fireworks. I guess I need to make myself scarce.”

  She took a step toward the hotel. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you needed to take a phone call from work.” The fib pricked her conscience because he wouldn’t be taking any calls from his office thanks to her. Once she got back home, she’d have to find a way to make things right with him.

  After slipping through the French doors, she took a minute to pull herself together. Just because her insides were in a knot, didn’t mean she wanted to look like a hot mess. She ran her trembling fingers over her hair. Only a hairspray-defying curl had gone astray, and she quickly tucked it behind her ear. Her hopes of blending in with the other guests were obliterated when she looked down. The front of her dress was completely soaked.

  She considered returning to her suite but she’d miss the fireworks and bouquet toss. It might not be the most important part of the wedding, but Katie had made a point of asking Abby to be there. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

  With the reception drawing to a close, the lights of the ballroom had been raised. To her relief the remaining guests were focused on the main door where the bride and groom would make their final appearance. A gaggle of bridesmaids and Katie’s other single friends were waiting for the bride to throw her bouquet.

  Fleetingly, it dawned on Abby her new daughter-in-law might have been planning to throw her the bouquet. The idea of getting married might have been laughable if her mistakes with men weren’t so unfortunate. She couldn’t even manage a simple dance without turning it into a disaster. She eased around the perimeter of the room hoping not to be noticed by the other guests.

  “Where have you been?”

  She jumped at the sound of Chris’ voice. His gazed slipped from her face down to her dress and back again. “What happened?”

  “A wave got me.” Which was mostly true. Except the wave hadn’t been the ocean or even the splash from the pool. She’d been caught up in a tsunami named Grant Davis.

  Chapter 4

  “Right here’s fine.”

  Abby leaped from the backseat of the taxi while it was still moving. She met the poor fellow who was huffing and puffing to keep up with her pace by the trunk and thrust the fare and tip into his hand. Taking her suitcase in one hand and the garment bag in the other, she strode to the automatic doors of the airport. Finally, the knot that had been sitting in her stomach since Grant kissed her began to untangle.

  When she reached the check-in desk, not a single light was on, nor a person visible. She checked her watch, three hours till her flight left. What was wrong with these airlines? Didn’t they know how desperately she needed off this island? She scanned the lobby hoping to see someone dressed in the bright blue and green uniforms of the Caribbean Air. She’d talk whoever she could find into letting her check in early.

  Suddenly the message board blinked to life. As the announcement scrolled past, the knot returned. Her airline, the one from which she’d purchased a nonrefundable, nontransferable ticket back to Atlanta, had gone bankrupt and folded last night.

  I can fix this. She scooted over to another line feeling hopeful again. It was the hometown carrier and surely they could come up with a solution. When her turn came, she put on her best “please help me” smile and approached the ticket agent.

  Twenty minutes and a couple, “I’m sorry that’s the best I can do,” replies from the agent and she was left with two choices. She could borrow a thousand dollars from Chris, or see if Turks and Caicos needed any special education teachers. She thanked the agent and stepped aside to make the call.

  As she drew her phone from her purse, she formulated a plan to pay back her friend. It was only till she could cash in one of her savings bonds. But, that meant she wouldn’t be remodeling the bathroom this year. Oh well, another year in the 1930s wouldn’t kill her and reminded herself how much she liked the white porcelain fixtures and nickel faucets.

  She was about to push the send button when out of the corner of her eye she caught someone approaching. She turned to face the last person she expected or wanted to see. Grant had on perfectly worn jeans, snug white T-shirt, and a pair of aviator sunglasses that reminded her of a taller, better-looking version of Tom Cruise in Top Gun. To top it off he was sporting an ear-to-ear grin. Why did his smile always make her think he was up to mischief?

  “Hi,” he said as he thrust the blue silk wrap and matching purse she’d worn to the wedding toward her. “You left these by the pool last night.”

  She took her things, tucking them in her carry-on. “Thanks, but you didn’t have to come all the way here just for that.”

  He took a step closer, eyeing all five and a half feet of her. “I heard about Caribbean Air and came because I want to offer you something.”

  He was close enough she could catch a whiff of his aftershave. Her pulse kicked up a notch as she breathed in the spicy scent. “What?”

  “If you agree, we can consider it a repayment for the phone you drowned,” he said with a trace of humor.

  He’d know her less than a day, but he’d had already honed in on her sense of honor. “Go ahead.”

  He wrapped his hand around the handle of her suitcase. “I have to head back to Atlanta and I’d like you to keep me company on the way back.”

  Decision time. Shell out money she couldn’t afford or spend three hours with a man who impaired her judgment in a way alcohol never could. He stepped closer so the hard muscles of his chest were all she could see. Abby swallowed. “You certainly know how to work a girl’s rock-and-hard-place dilemma to your advantage.”

  His eyes nailed into her. “I most certainly do.”

  Dear Lord, what was she about to do? “All right, I’m in,” she laughed.

  Before she could rethink her decision, he’d snagged her luggage and was wheeling it away from the check-in desk. The man moved like a cheetah on a mission, and even her long legs had to trot to keep up. She paused at a set of double doors marked: chartered departures. Nervous anticipation had her heart keeping a staccato beat. People in her world rarely traveled outside The States, and they never chartered their own planes.

  “Got your passport handy?” he asked. His broad grin suggestion they were embarking on a grand adventure. She envied him his laisser-faire take on life. He didn’t even seem bothered by their kiss last night. Or the aftermath. Well, she’d just have to take a page from his playbook. If he could act like their kiss had never happened, she could too.

  She dug in her purse and extracted the blue booklet, waving it for him to see. “Right here.”

  Grant nodded a quick response and led her to the customs queue. While waiting their turn, Abby stole sideways glances at him. The snug fitting T-shirt and jeans he wore looked every bit as good on him as the tux had. Better in fact, since it looked more like him than the suit. From the corner of her eye she saw a day’s growth of beard shadow his jaw, softening its hard edge. Her fingers itched to run over the whiskers, to feel their roughness.

  The problem with pretending nothing had happened was not only had something happened, it continued to happen. She was attracted to him. Not in a “wow, that’s a good-looking man” kind a way, but in a way that made her feel as if she was losing control. At least there’d be other passengers to d
istract her.

  She’d been so lost in her own thoughts, the customs and immigration process passed with barely a blip on her radar screen. Once again she was trailing along behind him as his long legs chewed up the carpet. He paused at a set of glass doors, holding them open for her. “Plane’s this way.”

  Then they were out in the bright light and warm breeze of the Caribbean. If it weren’t for her constant worry of doing something inappropriate with him, the experience might have been fun.

  A line of twin engine planes edging the runway brought her crashing back to reality. These machines were too small to send out over the open ocean. In fact, she’d driven bigger cars. Abby could feel the icy prick of anxiety climb up her spine and take root in her soul. Talk about jumping from the frying pan and into the fire. Where was a tranquilizer when she needed one? One good thing about this, if she was worried about dying, she needn’t think about kissing Grant again.

  As he neared one of the larger examples of the flying death machines, she noticed a small smile creep to the corners of his mouth. This wasn’t simply another machine to him. This was his baby. The tri colors, white, gold, and black, gave the jet a sleek, majestic edge the white and primary colored planes lacked. She liked it based solely on the fact it looked big enough to stay aloft for several hundred miles.

  Grant left her side and began examining one of the wings. The way he ran his hands over the edge was more than pride of ownership; he examined it as if it were a race horse headed to the track. “Doesn’t the pilot usually do that?” she asked.

  “Yes, he does,” he stated, another of his impish grins creasing his face.

  Embarrassment flooded her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to sound like a know-it-all, but thankfully he didn’t seem to take offense at her question. If fact, between the inspection he was giving his baby and the way he kept looking back at her, he seemed to be having the time of his life.

  She was actually doing all right herself. The news he’d be piloting the plane settled her nerves. If he was in the cockpit and she was in the cabin, perhaps she could make it through the flight without doing something idiotic.

  While he performed his pre-flight, she performed a little subtle observation of her own. From the moment he moved from her side, his full focus was on the plane. From nose to tail nothing escaped his scrutiny. She knew what the plane must be feeling. Every time he looked at her it was as if he could see her every nuance. Perhaps knowing he’d looked her over and like what he saw was what caused her to behave so impulsively. No, she corrected herself. She’d never pushed the blame for her actions on to others before, and she wasn’t going to start now.

  Finally, after he’d crawled under the plane’s belly and even kicked the tires, he circled back to her. “She’s ready to go,” he stated, scooping up their luggage.

  They moved to the door of the plane and stopped. His arms were full, but the thoughts of opening the door had her arms frozen by her side. Not only because she might break something, but once the door was open there was no going back.

  “Just pop the latch and the door will open,” he instructed, his voice sounding eager. For him taking to the air was a wonderful excitement, not the doomsday experience she was making this out to be.

  Shaking herself mentally, she reached out and pulled the lever. The door seemed to come alive under her hand. It swung free and the steps descended into place smoothly.

  “Better let me go in first,” he said, nudging her hip with his.

  “Sorry.” She moved aside, feeling a little stupid to have been standing in the way while he had an armload of bags.

  She followed him up the stairs and got an eyeful of how the rich and famous traveled. Leather covered every surface that wasn’t done in burl wood or chrome. LED lights twinkled from above giving the cabin the look of a luxury spaceship. She took several breaths to calm her nerves. It even bore that lucious new car smell. “Wow,” she whispered. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever been in.”

  He stowed their luggage in an overhead compartment and turned to her. “Thanks.” Then he pointed to a small galley lined with crystal barware. “Can I offer you a diet soda or bottled water?”

  “I’m good, thanks,” she murmured as she continued to take in the well-appointed interior. To her right were six empty recliner-sized chairs. “Where are the other passengers sitting? I don’t want to take your mom’s seat or anything.”

  He shook his head and shot her a lopsided grin that revealed a dimple. “It’s just us.” He thumbed in the direction of the cockpit. “You’re sitting up front to keep me company.”

  What the heck? Abby blinked a couple times while her brain played catch up. Three hours hemmed in with Fly Boy. But at this point what could she do? With a glance heavenward, she followed him as he inched his way through the small port and into the cockpit.

  Even through her dismay at the situation she’d gotten herself into, she couldn’t help but notice how he nimbly contorted his body to fit in the tight quarters. This was a man who knew how to make his body do what he wanted it to.

  Abby followed his example and eased her way into the co-pilot’s seat. Her eyes grew wide as she saw a bank of instruments and yoke a mere two inches from her lap. She wouldn’t have to worry about keeping her hands off Grant. She’d be trying to not touch the instruments. Abby tucked her hands under her legs.

  Grant reached over to pat her knee. “Relax. This will be the ride of your life.”

  His words weren’t making her feel any better. One wrong move and it would all be over. “What if I touch something?” she squeaked.

  “Don’t worry so much. Relax and enjoy the ride.” Still grinning, he eased over her body. His eyes bored into hers and his lips were no more than an inch from where they’d been last night. She could even feel the heat radiating off his skin and smell his aftershave. She tensed, waiting for him to kiss her again. His hands moved forward, and she licked her lips.

  “Here, let me fasten your seatbelt for you.”

  She bit back a groan. Forget something for anxiety, she needed a pill to curb her overactive imagination. Abby folded her hands in her lap and resolved to at least make an attempt to act normal.

  He tightened her seatbelt without seeming to notice her faux pas, then turned to push up a switch guard and flipped a lever. “Let’s wake this baby up,” he drawled.

  Abby watched as he fired up the machine. After a few seconds, curiosity about the switches, dials, and the artificial horizon overtook her embarrassment. When he put on his head set and pointed to its mate draped over the yoke in front of her, she quickly put it on, excited to hear what he’d tell her.

  “This is your captain speaking.” His voice came alive in her ear. “We’ll be departing the gate in a few minutes, but first I’d like to go over a few safety features. We’ll be flying over water for most of the flight and in the unlikely event of a water landing…you’re completely screwed.”

  Abby shoved her fists over her eyes as scenes from one of those old airport disaster movies flashed through her head. There was no way she could take three minutes much less three hours in this aluminum death trap. Her hands trembled as she snatched at the harness, deciding she's be better off getting out of here and taking her chances on a real plane.

  His hand on her bare arm stilled her. “I’m sorry.” The amusement bled from his voice. “I was just trying to be funny.”

  She cracked her eyes to see if he were making fun of her. Someone like Grant wasn’t afraid of anything. The world was one big adventure. And people like that rarely understood the fear of others.

  Instead of mockery she saw compassion tinged with embarrassment. “God, I’m such an ass.” His palm slid down her arm and squeezed her hand. “Nothing bad is going to happen to us. I promise.”

  Still too scared to speak, she could only acknowledge his words with a nod. She took several deep breaths and willed her legs to stop trembling. Eventually her heart rate settled to double digits and she turned he
r attention to the view ahead.

  The next several minutes were a rush of garbled instruction from the tower and a series of turns. Then before she realized what was happening, they were barreling down the runway and into the sky.

  The sensation of gravity pressing her into the seat caused another wave of fear. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Let me know when it’s over,” she whined. Her heart pounded in her chest till she thought if she looked down her T-shirt would be stained red.

  “Look,” he said. “Last chance to see the island.”

  She couldn’t let fear keep her from a last glimpse of azure-blue ocean. She cracked her lids as Grant banked the airplane, giving her a wide view. Pressing her hand to the window, she breathed in. “I can almost feel the warmth coming off the waves.”

  A chuckle brought her attention to him. “I can’t believe I couldn’t convince you to dive with me. Clearly you have a thing for the water.”

  His expression stunned her. Passion, joy, and lust for living shown in his blue eyes. He held her gaze for a pair of heartbeats then turned his attention back to flying. Now that was something she could really fall into—his gaze not the water.

  Grant leveled off the jet at thirty thousand feet and engaged the autopilot. Now that the plane wasn’t taking all his attention, he shot Abby a furtive glance to be sure his earlier dumb-ass remarks weren’t still worrying her.

  She’d gone from clutching the seat to resting her hands in her lap and although she was watching out the windscreen ahead, she didn’t look exactly relaxed. She did however look hot as hell. Her black T-shirt accentuated her fair skin, and the scooped neckline showed off her collar bones and just a hint of cleavage.

  Sensing he’d been eyeballing her, her eyes briefly touched on him before hurrying away. Three hours of strained silence and awkward looks were going to feel like an eternity. “Talk to me,” he said. “You’re supposed to be keeping me company.”

  She turned to him and a beautiful blush colored her cheeks. “Sorry. I didn’t want to distract you while you were flying the plane.”