Coffee and Cockpits

by Jade Hart

  Jos groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

  Nina rubbed the back of her neck. “All I want is a soft bed with tons of pillows I can dive into.”

  The mental image her feminine yet husky voice gave me was a little too good. There wouldn’t be just a bed as I’d be there too. And clothing would be non-existent. As for pillows, they’d be on the floor.

  I cleared my throat. Shattering my R-rated daydream. “The hotel shuttle is waiting outside. Let’s go.”

  It was dark and my stomach was past hungry, running on fumes. If it wasn’t for the corset holding my snarling stomach in place, I might have buckled over with emptiness. Every bump the hotel shuttle went over sent another spasm in my neck.

  I couldn’t stop looking at the back of Liam’s head in front of me. The way his eyes darkened in the harsh glow of the airport when I’d mention tumbling into bed kept repeating. As much as I did want to sleep and drown myself in pillows, another part of me desperately wanted to dance, to writhe and jig; to prove I was alive and kicked death in its face.

  Samantha moaned beside me where we sat in the back of the minivan. Her skin was ashen, and I had a feeling delayed shock had set in. She moved to speak, but a wracking cough erupted. Her eyes widened as she pulled at her throat.

  I scooted upright from my slouch, patting her on the back. “Sam. Are you okay?”

  Liam swivelled in the seat in front of us, passing me a water bottle. “Here. Give her this.” His voice was a whisper, barely audible over the swish of tires on the road, but caused my heart to accelerate.

  “Thanks.” I took the bottle and waited for Sam to breathe again. “Take a sip.”

  After wheezing a few times she raised the bottle to her lips as we pulled into the lobby of a huge, glittering resort with fairy lights threaded through palm trees and a welcoming committee at the top of the oversized marble stairs.

  I clambered out of the van and my trolley was promptly whisked from my hands by the bellboy. The dark-skinned man, probably late teens, grinned. “Welcome to Lagi Loto.”

  The stress of the crash and aftermath washed away; I returned his smile. “Thanks. I’m happy to be here.” And truly I was. I was happy to be alive. Now all I needed was some music and a dance to soothe the remaining tension.

  I followed the crumpled looking Samantha and Joslyn to reception, waiting quietly as we checked in. Dispatch had phoned ahead and approved our little envelope of cash and a debrief letter on what would happen next.

  A gentle breeze whispered through the open-air lobby, almost as if the island welcomed us. Liam made eye contact with me and a crooked grin graced his lips. His eyes were strained, but clear as blue glass. Worry niggled a little over his head injury. A good night’s sleep and he should be okay—hopefully.

  Anderson passed the letters from operations, along with our room keys. He didn’t look well either. I think everyone needed a good rest. Samantha and Joslyn had turned into zombies—standing half-asleep, wobbling on their feet.

  “Everyone get to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning.” Anderson gently pushed us toward the inner workings of the hotel.

  No one argued, and I fought heavy eyelids. We stepped down the sweeping staircase and entered luscious tropical gardens, sprawling in the dark like a secret maze.

  A concierge zoomed out of the glow-tinged night riding a golf cart. “If you please get on, I’ll take you to your fales.”

  “Fales?” Joslyn asked.

  The driver nodded. “This resort prides itself on individual fales.” He frowned, then smiled. “It is similar to what you call a bungalow.”

  My eyes popped. “We have our own bungalow?” Images of airy rooms and four poster beds came to mind. Kiwi Air did well choosing this hotel.

  The man nodded, waiting as we all clambered on board—a lot more awake and eager.

  Anderson swiped a hand over his face. “You know what, I’m going to walk. I’m feeling a little odd from the stress of the day. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” He strode into the soft blackness, a silhouette against the lanterns scattered in the trees.

  Liam watched him go with a worried look, but nodded for the driver to leave.

  We took off. The only sound was the electric whir of the golf cart as we drove around soaring palm trees and flower-laden bushes.

  We stopped outside a grass-roofed, timber-cladded bungalow. Pillars and a wraparound balcony welcomed, and gentle lights illuminated the interior through carved windows.

  “That one’s mine.” Joslyn hopped off and gave us all a wave. “See ya tomorrow.”

  Two minutes later we dropped Samantha at an identical fale and Liam was next door to her. He jumped off the golf cart and held a hand out to me.

  “Is my room here, too?” The sounds of wet slaps and hissing of sand enticed, along with salt-laced air. The sea wasn’t far. How perfect would it be for midnight swims and romantic interludes?

  The driver pointed across the path. “You are opposite.”

  The fale was the same as all the rest, but it seemed brighter, more beguiling. Just knowing it was mine for the next night or two made it all the more special.

  I let my hand slip into Liam’s, and he guided me off the cart. We waved at the driver as he whirred away.

  My skin sparked with awareness and heat seeped from Liam to me. He gave my fingers a squeeze before letting go.

  His eyes glowed like a blizzard in the night.

  I swallowed. “How’s your head?”

  “Fine. Bit sore, but nothing worth mentioning.” He smirked. “I’ve had hangovers worse than this.”

  I laughed gently, unwilling to disturb the sultry whispered night.

  He leaned into me, searching my eyes. “Are you okay? You’re not suffering delayed shock are you?” He frowned. “I don’t like the look of Samantha—she’s vacant, a sure sign of PTSD. And Joslyn seemed a little strained, too.”

  I held up my hand. It was perfectly steady, no shakes in sight. “I’m unflappable. See? No delayed shock.” I didn’t need to mention my sore neck. If he could pass off his head bump as nothing, so could I.

  He grinned, stole my hand and flipped it so my palm faced upward. His lips caressed my over-sensitive skin. “Yes, you look pretty stable.”

  Shock zapped my veins. He’d just taken our tentative friendship to a whole other realm in a second. Maybe he’d decided the same thing as me: life was too short to play games. Even so, I struggled to stay light and carefree. The seriousness of what we lived through weighted me. “I owe you a huge thanks, Liam. If I have to crash again, I hope you’re the one driving.”

  He chuckled. “You’ve already thanked me, and don’t joke about things like that. I’ve been there and done it. Don’t want to do it again. Anderson was fantastic. He was so calm. I thought we were going to ditch at one point. I was getting my snorkel ready.”

  We laughed together and a flurry of wings sounded in the trees around us.

  “Uh oh, we disturbed the roosting birds,” I murmured.

  He stepped forward, on the precipice from professional to lover distance. “I like your laugh.” His eyes burned into mine and my knees wobbled as the air solidified.

  Oh God.

  He tried to grin, but it looked more like a grimace. He couldn’t stop looking at my lips and I had a mental image of jumping him on the path. What was it therapists said? That survivors of a traumatic event sought sex as a confirmation they were alive? I knew Liam was very much alive by the pheromones he shot into the air.

  He said darkly, “I’m going inside. I don’t have the willpower to behave.”

  Did he really just admit to that? Whoa, talk about no inhibitions.

  My throat clogged; my body broiled for his touch. Taking courage from his forwardness, I decided to throw all caution to the warm island sky. I whispered, “You wouldn’t have to behave… I wouldn’t mind.”

  His nostrils widened and he groaned. “I didn’t mean to say that. I thought you’d bolt.” His voice deepened. “But
I’m really glad I did now. I really like you, Nina. And after today, I think we’re both a little too willing to be irresponsible.” He took another step forward so his chest pressed against mine. “I want to kiss you so much. But I won’t, as you might hate me in the morning for taking advantage of you in your post-traumatic state.”

  Is that what this was? Purely a release? Disappointment flashed, even as understanding that if it was just a lustful attraction he wasn’t acting on it. That meant something… right?

  My breath became erratic; denials screamed in my head. I wasn’t suffering PTSD. I knew what I was doing, and I wanted him to kiss me. It wasn’t anything to do with what we lived through. It was my promise to stop fighting what I thought was right and take what I desired. To explore every avenue and indulge in every taste.

  He pressed his forehead against mine with the barest of brushes before pulling away. “I’ll let you rest. Tomorrow morning we’ll know how long we’re stranded here. For now, good night.”

  I pursed my lips, deciding if I should just kiss him and take the responsibility from his hands. But what he said made sense. Our brains were fuddled with the crash. If I kissed him—when I kissed him—it should be with no confusion as to our motives.

  Taking a step toward my fale, I nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I had to force myself not to bolt up the steps and lock myself in. Instead, I meandered down the pebbled path, and collected my trolley placed by the front door. I stepped inside as Liam waved from his balcony.

  Returning his wave, I retreated into my own space and drew the blinds. Just knowing Liam was so close teased and bedazzled me. He proved level-headed in an emergency, and my instincts screamed he could protect me from anything. I didn’t want to think—‘he big alpha male and can protect me’—but I couldn’t deny the thread of contentment knowing I was safe when he was around. It was soothing but exciting all at once.

  The only problem was the moment I was in the room with solitude and silence my body craved a pulsing beat and rhythm. Sitting in a quiet room wasn’t going to cut it. No matter how gorgeous the understated elegance of island décor was. The furniture was hand-tooled, the carpets hand-woven. The roof was vaulted with sprigs of grass sprouting here and there.

  Dang namit, I wish I didn’t have to give into the need, but I’d never sleep otherwise.

  Quickly striping from my uniform, I dumped it all on the floor and opened the envelope of cash. It was double the normal amount. A bit of island shopping would be in the cards if we were still here tomorrow. I supposed the airline felt rather guilty for letting their crew fly a faulty plane. Then again, until the exam of the aircraft came back, we wouldn’t know what caused the crash.

  Inside the cash envelope was a letter addressed to all of us. I moved to the mosquito-net draped bed and opened it.

  Circumstances of KA93 from Auckland to Samoa.

  Due to an unknown problem, flight KA93 suffered electrical malfunctions, and landing gear failed to engage which resulted in an emergency landing at 1700 hours.

  The crew: Nina Poppins, Joslyn Duncan, Samantha Wiggins, and pilots: Liam Mikin and Captain John Anderson are assigned rooms at the Lagi Loto until further notice. The aircraft will be entrusted to Samoan International Airport and inspection will be overseen by head engineer Nikolai Rivers.

  More information will be forthcoming but will consist of one of these scenarios:

  Scenario One:

  Crew will wait until Kiwi Air can arrange passage home, either on another service, or on one of their scheduled flights. (Next flight to Samoa is not scheduled until six days from now.)

  Scenario Two:

  Crew may find their own way off the island and be reimbursed to a realistic dollar value.

  I re-read the beginning. Oh my God. Nikolai Rivers was going to be here. I stared at the time. What if he was already here?

  My heart beat faster at the memory of dancing with him in Sydney. If he was here, I might be able to get my fix after all. You’re using him, Nina. So what if I was. I needed to purge my nervous energy from today and I refused to entertain the small sliver of guilt at what Liam would say if he knew.

  Not wasting another moment, I stripped out of my turquoise blue corset and stockings, and unhooked my garter belt. The last thing to go was my lacy G-string, and it landed on the tiled floor of the bathroom.

  The shower was heavenly as I washed away the grime of stress. I bounced on my heels as I blow-dried my hair and applied the usual make-up before slipping into a grey dress with a tight bodice.

  After devouring a few of the complimentary biscuits from the minibar, I was out of my fale and charging through the gardens.

  * * * * *

  The hotel was too big; I found out almost instantly. There were five bars: One poolside, one beachside, one open-air in the lobby with gentle notes of a piano player, and another in the restaurant upstairs. The last one I checked was a little ways from the fales and the threads of island music, flutes, and drums pulled me along, caught in its spell. Sure, my neck prodded me with pain, and I knew I shouldn’t dance with an injury, but so what. I survived a crash. I’d do what I want… within reason.

  I gasped with pleasant surprise when I entered the canopied dance floor. It was all open air. The constant island temperature didn’t require walls.

  My skin already had a soft sheen of sweat from the balmy night. Staff smiled when I arrived and a young man bowed. “Drink, milady?”

  I laughed. As if. I was no lady. “Milady? I don’t think I’ve been called that before.”

  The waiter chuckled too; his black hair twinkled with the red and pink fairy lights from the ceiling. He winked. “A pretty woman like you should be called a lady all the time.”

  “Flirt.” I joked back. “You’ve twisted my arm. I don’t normally drink, but I’ll have a Sex on the Beach.” I deserved a bit of alcohol after today.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Excellent choice, milady. The beach is just there.” He pointed behind me to the sounds of swishing water on sand in the darkness.

  I swatted his arm, disbelieving how bold he was. I could get him into serious trouble for that. I wasn’t angry, though. It was nice to joke and let my guard down.

  “I’ll have it in liquid form, please. And a large glass of water.”

  “Your wish is my command,” he said in his thick Samoan accent. He headed to the bar to place my order, and I made my way to a vacant table with high stools on the rim of the small dance floor.

  The gentle breeze from the ocean fluttered my hair; I wondered briefly if I should put it into a pony tail. If Nikolai was here, it would stick to my back as I grew hot from dancing.

  It was as if I summoned him. The instant I thought about him, he appeared on the edge of the dance floor.

  I froze.

  He scanned the tables. A few guests were strewn around, indulging in conversation or tapping their foot to the mellow beat of music. It took several passes before his eyes settled on me.

  His face lit up, then he coughed, wiping away the anticipation glowing in his eyes. He couldn’t fake it. He’d been looking for me, too.

  I smiled as he made his way over. “Fancy seeing you here.”

  He chuckled, sliding onto the stool opposite me. “I heard you broke a plane.”

  The busboy arrived and placed a pink concoction, complete with umbrella and pineapple slice, in front of me. I choked on my sip, unable to hold back my laugh. “You’re blaming me for crashing into paradise?”

  He nodded, flicking a messy brown lock from his forehead. “Yep. You’re mischievous. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sabotaged the plane to get me here for a night of dancing.” He winked. “Am I right?”

  Stress melted off me, and the last kinks in my neck dissolved. Liam popped into my thoughts interrupting my budding happiness, and guilt subdued me again. Guilt? Why guilt? It wasn’t like I was with Liam—sure my feelings for him were complicated, and we shared a few moments, but beyond that
we were strangers. But there was something… some tug telling me he was more than he seemed.

  Refocusing on the present, I took a sip of my drink. “You’ve been looking in every bar in the hotel for me. Don’t deny it; you want to dance with me as much as I want to dance with you.” It didn’t bother me to admit it. There was no shame in dancing. It was pure, undiluted fun.

  He slapped his forehead. “My plan has been foiled. Dammit. Was I that obvious?”

  I smiled. “Not at all. It’s nice to know someone who likes to get as sweaty as me.”

  His eyes changed from hazel to smouldering brown. “Oh, I like getting sweaty all right. And not necessarily on the dance floor.”

  My heart fizzled, and I thought it safer to ignore his comment. I downed my Sex on the Beach and stood. “Should we get the show on the road and ask them to turn on some proper music?”

  Nikolai jumped off his stool, cracking his knuckles. “Leave it to me. If they don’t have what we need, I do.” He pulled a flash drive from his black jeans, looking very pleased with himself.

  I resisted the urge to clap. That had been a concern of mine. We were willing to dance, but if the music wasn’t right, it would’ve all been for nothing.

  I tried not to gawk at Nikolai’s figure as he walked to the bartender and struck up conversation. He was well-built with sweeping back muscles hiding beneath a loose green t-shirt. I couldn’t help comparing him to Liam. Liam was bigger in broadness and height. Nikolai was swift and toned—a dancer’s body. But there was something untamed about him that hinted at rule-breaking and naughtiness.

  A few laughs and a slap on the back later, the music changed from island sway to Salsa heat. Every nerve ending in my body sprang to attention; my feet tapped in rhythm. It began in my toes, trickled to my ankles, and crept up my calves. Inch by bodily inch, I became alive until my senses were smothered in Salsa notes.

  Ah, this was what I needed.

  What I wanted.

  Liam’s heated look outside my fale distracted me, but I pushed it away. Liam was dangerous—provocative and tantalizing. I could easily get swept away with lust. Don’t deny he means more to you than that, Nina. I shied away from the thought. Could I afford to let my emotions be involved? Sure, I’d promised myself to sample every experience, but letting my tender heart break free from its self-imposed prison and get drunk on the anticipation of love again—it asked a lot of courage.