Landing the Air Marshal (Snowpocalypse)

by Jennifer Blackwood

  Right. Back to reality tomorrow. God, she was so pissed. She’d been completely cool with her lackluster sex life up until this point, and Gage had to go and ruin that. Okay, pissed and ruin weren’t the right words. But damn it all to hell if her sex life would go next to “buying bread” in her planner anymore. Time to be proactive. She wasn’t one to sit around and idly watch what she wanted fly by.

  She rolled to her side to face Gage, her pink-painted toes wiggling against the cool, crisp sheets. “I was thinking. Maybe we could, you know, meet up every once in a while.” She paused and amended, “When we’re both traveling, that is.” That came out a lot cooler than she felt inside. Inside she was going please say yes, for the sake of that elusive O that seems to appear anytime you’re within a ten-yard radius.

  Screw the fact that they lived on the total opposite sides of the country. There were cell phones, Skype, and her unlimited airline miles. That had to count for something, right?

  Okay, that came out a little clingy. This was one weekend. He made it clear. “I mean, it’s been fun. I’ve kind of decided I like fun. Maybe we could have more?” She shrugged.

  “Yeah, maybe. We’ll see how it pans out.” He smiled momentarily and then focused back on the remote. Something was off. He wasn’t the same guy who she’d met on the plane. Hell, he wasn’t the same one as a few minutes ago. She had to hand it to him—that ranked a solid A for noncommittal answers.

  “Yeah, cool.” But even as she said it, she knew something wasn’t right. It was in the way Gage was now closed off, his shoulders hunched, irritation in his eyes. Maybe she’d imagined all of these feelings this weekend. Maybe she’d been so deprived throughout the years that she was clinging to the first thing that felt right.

  Things were so much easier when they were scheduled out in her planner. Somehow, though, she didn’t think she could pencil her feelings into the days of the week. It was official, she was starting to crack. All the pressure from her job finally got to her. Her fingers made their way up to her earlobes, to swipe across the familiar earrings, and she frowned when her one hand came up empty. Dammit, she needed to stop doing that.

  The earring was long gone by now. At least she still had one—maybe she’d make it into a necklace, because she couldn’t bear not wearing it again.

  Maybe this was the last of her luck. She’d had this incredible weekend—seen the most luxurious penthouse in her life and now everything would be downhill from here. Abby wasn’t normally a pessimist—a realist, yes—but this seemed like it was coming to an end. Things were too good, and that scared her.

  …

  Gage stared at the message on his phone and tried his best not to chuck it across the room. This phone was his second device, his government issued one, and the weight of it in his hand felt as if his life was tethered to it. This device had ruined so much. It ruined his engagement. It ruined his past dating life. It sure as hell wasn’t going to get any better any time soon.

  Jake: Need you to pull another shift. Security needs to be upped for possible situation.

  He’d always loved his job. Always. Never regretted going from army to air marshal. But at this moment, he was willing to call it quits just for a fucking day off.

  When Abby had suggested that they meet up from time to time, he had to admit, the woman had balls, or whatever the female equivalent was. She even looked him in the eye as she said it, but he could tell she was nervous by the fidgeting with her hands.

  But everything was all wrong. The timing was wrong. She deserved someone who had time for her, not a guy who spent 90 percent of his life living and breathing work. It wasn’t fair to her. Better to make a clean break. It was easier that way, for her sake.

  Another text rang through on his phone, and his fingers clutched the grooves in the edges as he read the next note from his commander saying that he wouldn’t be home until next Thursday. Emily would be heartbroken. His mother would be pissed for missing a dinner that she’d carefully planned like a game of Settlers of Katan.

  Could he really do casual? Just hooking up on random weekends with Abby?

  He thought about his ex with a baby on the way. Damn, he wanted that someday. Not with his ex, obviously, but with someone special. Someone like Abby. Even if he loved his work, was he making the right decision by making it his life?

  This was too much damn introspection for one night.

  “I need some air,” he said.

  He carefully extracted her legs from his lap, pulled on a shirt, and then made his way outside to the basketball court. His lungs burned with the cold fire of chilly air the second he stepped out onto the expanse of the patio. Stupid, really, because it was in the teens temperature-wise, and he was only wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants. But he needed time to think.

  He wanted Abby, there was no doubt about it. But the distance. The completely different way of life. The prospect of having to fight for approval in his very set-in-their-ways Southern family. The odds were stacked against him. Against them. He didn’t even know if it was worth the trouble if he had to put his heart on the line with so many unknowns.

  He shook his head and cussed under his breath, irritated with himself for getting way too philosophical. He’d known the woman for two days. Two. He shouldn’t feel this strongly for her. And yet, he did.

  This intensity was just a side effect of being so close to her for a prolonged period. He was sure that it would dull as soon as he boarded the plane. He hoped. Because as much as he wanted this to work, it just wasn’t in the cards. He needed to leave in the morning and forget Abby Winters and her smile that knocked him on his ass. And her sassy L.A. attitude and ability to keep him on his toes. It all needed to be forgotten, for her sake. And his.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gage was officially the biggest prick on the planet.

  Abby lay on the luxurious four-poster bed, a sheet wrapped haphazardly along her tasty curves.

  Just get up and don’t look back.

  Yes, this was for the best. For both of them. They’d both realize how stupid this weekend was once they left the confines of the penthouse.

  He took in one last drink of her. The waves of dark hair that cascaded down her shoulders. The pout in her plump lips. Even without makeup, her lips were blood red, like she’d just eaten cherries.

  He ran a finger along her cheek, and she stirred slightly. He mashed his lips together and fought the urge to wake her up. What the hell was wrong with him? This was supposed to be a one-night stand. It shouldn’t be so hard. And yet, here he was, again—second time in two days—limbs feeling heavy as cement as he tried to drag himself out of bed. But he was doing this for her. Didn’t want to make her deal with the inevitable awkward good-bye. No need to drag this out. It’d be much easier for her to move on from the weekend this way, even though the thought of Abby with another guy ripped at him, more than he’d like to admit.

  He pulled out his phone and opened up a text to his sister, looking for anything to stall for another minute or so. Because no matter how much he knew he had to do this, he was pulled to Abby like a fucking magnet. Luckily, in exactly three hours, he’d create enough space between them that there’d no longer be a pull.

  He typed out a quick text and hit send.

  Gage: Got called into work. I’ll be home in a couple days.

  Jill: Bummed but we understand. We love you.

  That was his sister’s only response. But his family was just that—family. They had to understand. Someone that didn’t have to put up with his bullshit schedule would be out of there faster than a plane jetting off a runway. For once, he knew he was making the right decision. He scribbled a quick note and left before he could change his mind.

  …

  Gage’s side of the bed was cold when Abby woke up. The hope in her chest deflated as she realized this time he wouldn’t be coming back. He had a flight to catch, and so did she, in five hours.

  A note lay on the pillow next to her. His pillow. Dammi
t, it still smelled like his shampoo, that intoxicating woodsy smell that would be imprinted on her mind now.

  Had a great weekend with you, sweetheart. Wish it could have been longer.

  -Gage

  Oh, the nerve of this guy. How dare he give her the best goddamn sex of her life and then bail? He didn’t even have the decency to say good-bye in person. Left it for a note. What was this, middle school? Hell, he didn’t even leave a phone number. Whether that was intentional or not, her guess was as good as any. Oh, she was feeling ranty. Maybe this was the side effect of too much sex. Maybe her body was already going through withdrawal.

  Yes, she knew the deal going into this. Two nights, no attachments, but tell that to her protesting nether region.

  Chewing out the source of the problem wasn’t an option, so she did the next best thing—she reached for her phone and dialed her sister’s number. Ella picked up on the second ring.

  “Please tell me you have more details about Mr. Mile High.”

  “He’s gone.” She swallowed past the unexpected lump in her throat and continued. No, she would not be sad about this. Two nights couldn’t possibly breed such a deep attachment. “He had an emergency job to fill. Something about a shortage.”

  “Did you at least exchange digits?”

  She paused and shifted her eyes to the nightstand, where she’d dropped his crummy excuse for a good-bye. “No.”

  “What!” Ella shrieked. “This guy must be mental.”

  “I know.” She wanted to change the subject. She hated to think that a guy she barely knew was able to get under her skin and unsettle her like this. She had other more important things to focus on—like her next account. How could she be so stupid to offer to see him again? And then have him just shrug it off like a jerk. Then again, he stuck to the plan, something she always did. Now look where deviating from the rules got her: horny and in need of Mr. Asshole Air Marshal Gandy Dick. She groaned and shifted in bed, trying to ignore the ache between her thighs. Dammit, she was so fucked. And not in the sense that she wanted to be.

  She stared at the note again. Really, he’d done her a huge favor. Now she didn’t have to ever wonder about him again. In fact, she didn’t even want to vent about him to Ella. Before her sister could needle her for any more details, she quickly changed the subject. “Tell me about your elevator snafu.”

  “Don’t even get me started. I was stuck in there for five hours with Sam.”

  Abby could practically hear her sister’s eyes rolling.

  She went on to tell Abby every delicious detail about her five hours with her archenemy from her rival attorney office.

  Sounded like she had just as eventful of a weekend as Abby did. Maybe even more so.

  By the time she finished, she had almost completely blanked out thoughts of Gage. Almost. She had a feeling it would be a long time before she forgot his smile. And his laugh. And the way he’d say something so unspeakably dirty it was just so right. Ugh. Why did someone so absolutely perfect for her have to live so far away…and not have an interest in seeing her again. Yeah, she’d need some ice for that burn.

  She managed to get herself out of bed, and walked out to the living room to take one last look at the skyline. Her fingers ran down the window, the space right next to the sliding door. She leaned in toward the glass and gave a short puff of breath.

  Gage and Abby were here appeared along the glass, and Abby’s throat tightened. How long until the hotel staff washed it off? A day? A week? They’d be erased from the place like they’d never been here to begin with.

  But that’s what this whole weekend was. A fantasy. She couldn’t live in this world full time because reality called, and come tomorrow, it would plow into her like a friggin’ semi truck. She had bigger fish to fry. Namely getting that damn promotion. She’d put every ounce of her newfound sexual frustration into her work, one case of blue balls—err, blue clit—at a time.

  She moved over to the spot where he’d made her write a promise last night. Her breath hovered over the glass and I, Abby Winters, promise to be true to my wishes appeared.

  She sighed. This was exactly why she hadn’t put herself out there to begin with. Somehow he’d ensnared her heart, taking a piece of it with him.

  Screw it. Wishes didn’t come true. She earned stuff through hard work. Her fingers swiped over the message, smearing it into an unintelligible smudge.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Final boarding call for Flight 351.”

  Gage let out a deep breath and cussed under his breath. He shouldered his bag, walked up the jetway, and boarded the plane. This time he was on duty, so he had to alert the flight attendants of his presence ahead of time and then take his seat in first class.

  Yep. Back to the grind.

  He took a seat next to an elderly lady reading a book. Not watching porn. Didn’t even have a hint of anxiety. Just a quiet, boring passenger. Not Abby.

  Fuck, he’d rather be in bed with her right now, her leg thrown over his waist as she curled up against his chest. Best damn feeling ever.

  He scrubbed his hand over his face. Nope. Not going there. He’d left this morning without saying good-bye for a reason—so that she would have a clean break. But, hell, he wasn’t supposed to be all bent out of shape about it.

  He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Then let it out. Then took another breath. Okay, he could do this. As soon as the plane took off, he wouldn’t give her another thought.

  The lady next to him bristled in her seat. Gage glanced out of the corner of his eye and noticed the book she was reading. No. Dammit. Of course, it had to be the book version of the porno Abby had watched on their flight together. Fuck. It. All. To. Hell.

  This was karma biting him in the ass. Everything was going to remind him of Abby on this flight. Was that such a bad thing? She was one hell of a woman. More of a woman than his cowardly ass deserved.

  He was so sure this morning that he was doing the right thing by leaving without a trace. And he knew the second his ass hit the airline seat he’d fucked up, royally. He hadn’t even gotten her number. He had no way of reaching her. She might as well be a ghost because now there was no way to make it right.

  The thought of not seeing her again sent a hot jolt of panic and anger down his spine. He let this happen. He fucked up.

  Think.

  There had to be something that he could do.

  Maybe by some stroke of luck she was still at the penthouse. He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed the number to the hotel before the flight attendants made the final call before departure and made him put away his phone.

  “The Winchester Hotel,” said a woman with a thick New York accent.

  “I need to reach the person in room 4011.” Yes, he’d call her, set everything right. Give her his damn number. Maybe apologize profusely. Hell, if she did pick up, he wasn’t past a little groveling.

  “Hold please.”

  Gage’s heart pounded fiercely against his ribs as he waited to be put through. Each ring amped his frayed nerves. C’mon sweetheart, pick up.

  He needed her to pick up so he could apologize, beg for mercy, anything to get the chance to see her again.

  The captain announced something through the speakers, but he wasn’t paying any attention to the flight. All he cared about was Abby picking up the phone.

  A blonde flight attendant appeared in the entryway to the drink station in the front of first class and narrowed her eyes.

  Not now, Blondie. All I need is one minute.

  The phone was still ringing. Dammit, why was it still ringing? She should have picked up by now, but hell if he was going to hang up this phone, for any reason.

  She smoothed her skirt and squared her shoulders, sauntering over to Gage. “Sir, you need to put your phone away.”

  “Yes. Hold on.” He held a finger up to her to let her know he’d be done momentarily.

  The flight attendant raised a perfectly arched brow and pursed her li
ps. She didn’t say anything, but the look alone was intimidating enough that he knew he had to wrap up the call fast or else she was going to send him dagger glares all throughout the flight.

  Hell, she knew who he was. He’d tell her he was on call with the damn Pentagon if it meant completing this call.

  Come on. Pick up. Please.

  He could feel himself getting more frantic on each ring. He knew that the odds of her being in the penthouse were slim, but this was the only hope he had. If this didn’t work, he didn’t know where else to look.

  The phone kept ringing, until finally it hit the voicemail. This was it. She was gone. He had no clue how to reach her, and it was all his fault. He could have easily left his phone number in the note, but he’d been a dumbass. He slid the phone back into his pocket and knocked his head against the seat.

  “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. And then realized he needed to get his shit together, when the lady next to him tsked and gave him a dirty look. Right. How could he have forgotten he was working? There were people to profile, possible crises to avert. He didn’t have room right now to think about how bad he’d screwed up. There was time for that when he was in Atlanta waiting for his next flight.

  He sank back in his seat and scrubbed his palms over his eyes. It took a few seconds to focus on the present, but when he opened his eyes, he blocked out the constant need to be back in that penthouse. He scanned the cabin, nothing seeming out of the ordinary. Most people were playing on their tablets or scanning magazines. And then there was granny next to him reading that book.

  That book that sparked everything.

  The weekend had seemed to last only a handful of breaths, but Gage would spend the rest of his days reliving them and missing his brunette vixen.

  …

  Abby returned to the office the next morning feeling about as refreshed as the recycled air on the plane. Even though she’d showered, she could still feel that airline film plastered on her face. Her eyes were practically crusted shut—it was a miracle she could even keep them open to look at all the paperwork that had piled up on her desk over the long weekend.