Not In My Wildest Dreams (McKenna Series Book 2)

by Jamie Hollins

  They entered the aircraft and she took the window seat in their row. Shoving her bag under the seat in front of her, she quickly buckled her seat belt before Sean sat down to avoid any awkward touching of his thigh. She pulled the armrest down between their seats and pushed his seat belt over onto his side.

  Sean sat down with all the grace of a wrecking ball. He had to angle his long legs toward the aisle so his knees didn’t dig into the tray table in front of him. That put his body closer to Darcy.

  “Do you have any gum?”

  She shook her head at his question, opening her magazine. If she ignored him, maybe he’d leave her alone.

  “I wish I had some gum. My ears get plugged when I fly and I can’t pop them without gum. Do your ears plug?”

  What an idiot.

  “No,” she said dryly, flipping the page without reading a word on it.

  The aircraft pushed away from the gate on time, and while taxiing, the pilots made their preflight announcement. The flight time was six hours and twenty-three minutes. It was probably going to be the longest six hours and twenty-three minutes of her life.

  The engines revved and the plane started down the runway. Darcy didn’t mind flying, but she hated takeoffs. She’d been on a flight once where a passenger refused to stow his bag in the overhead compartment. He’d wanted to keep the bag at his feet so it was more accessible. In an effort to get through to the man, the flight attendant told him that if they had what she called a rejected takeoff, all the unsecured objects in the plane would be flying directly toward her jump seat and she would very much appreciate it if he’d please comply with federal regulations and stow his bag properly.

  She couldn’t remember what had ended up happening with that man, but with every takeoff after that, she anxiously waited and felt for any change in the forward and upward momentum of the plane. Whatever that rejected takeoff was, she wanted no part of it.

  She felt the wheels of their plane lift off the ground and watched out the window as the ground got farther and farther away.

  “Nervous flyer?”

  Her head jerked over and she found Sean watching her with amusement. She ignored him and looked down at her magazine.

  “What are you reading?”

  He was just like a gnat that wouldn’t leave her alone!

  She wasn’t planning on answering him but felt him lean toward her over the armrest to look at the page. When she read the title of the article, she nearly gasped. Of all the articles to be reading next to Sean, she had to open her magazine to this particular one.

  “Picking the Right Lingerie for Your Body Type,” Sean read aloud.

  Before she could respond, he flipped the page. Both sides of the magazine had four different pictures of women in lingerie. Some were modest and some could be classified as nonexistent. Darcy’s eyes scanned the page, taking in the various and rainbow selection of lacy, satiny outfits.

  An incredibly thin woman wore a red bustier and garter set. A pale blonde posed with thin straps of sheer neutral fabric covering her tiny breasts and the triangle between her legs. A buxom brunette lounged in bed in a silky camisole and nearly painted-on boy shorts. It was a smorgasbord of scantily clad woman, and she couldn’t help but cringe.

  “Hmmmm,” he said, scanning the two pages. “I’d pick that one.”

  He pointed to a dark-haired woman wearing a black lacy bra-and-panty set. She stood with one knee kneeling against a chair, a satin black robe draping off her shoulders. The top consisted of a lacy demi-bra, which hoisted the model’s cleavage up into plump mounds below her collarbone. The bikini bottoms were the same lacy material as the bra and sat well below her smooth, toned stomach.

  The ensemble’s simple color and lines made it sexy, but the flowing satiny fabric of the robe made it romantic. There were other lingerie sets that were much more vixen than this one, and she was surprised at Sean’s choice.

  “You’d pick that one if you were a woman, huh?”

  “No, I’d pick that one if I were you.”

  Jerking her gaze away from the magazine, she stared at him with wide eyes. She couldn’t believe he’d gone there. It was bad enough she had to sit next to him, the source of her torment and embarrassment. But he crossed into territory that she wasn’t ready to talk about. Wouldn’t be ready to talk about for at least another year. Maybe more.

  He looked up, must have seen her bewildered expression, and grinned.

  “What? It’s true. You have these perfect—” he started, cupping his hands in front of his chest.

  “Stop!” That single word left her breathless as she stared at him.

  He smiled. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I was just about to say that—”

  Darcy squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head quickly, trying hard to ignore the warm contentment that settled in her chest over hearing Sean call her breasts perfect. “No! Just stop. We are not having this conversation.”

  After a moment, he sighed loudly. “All right. I’m just gonna say this because it needs to be said. We had sex. Big deal.”

  Darcy snapped her eyes open in time to see the man sitting in front of them turn his head to where his ear was in the middle of the two seats.

  “Jesus Christ. Shut up.”

  “We’re two consenting adults, and we had sex,” he said, ignoring her. “It changes nothing.”

  “It changes everything,” she hissed. “And if you don’t shut your fucking mouth, I’m going to shut it for you.”

  “We’ve been friends forever. I’m not going to let what happened between us change that. That’s why I’m here. I gave you the time you wanted to think through this, but I’m impatient, and I decided it was in our friendship’s best interest to force you to spend time with me. The more time we spend together doing normal things, the easier it’ll get. It’s time we got back to being Darcy and Sean again.”

  It was a valiant speech full of sincerity and feelings. For just a second, she forgot about being uncomfortable and just floated in the wonderful sensation of being wanted. And by Sean, nonetheless. But she wasn’t going to be able to flip a switch and go back to the way things used to be before they’d slept together.

  Yeah, she could probably get over the embarrassment. Eventually, she could smile at him again and laugh at his jokes. But there would always be that part of her that loved him and wanted more. She wanted his love, to share his dreams, to feel his passion. They’d already given the passion part a try, and although it’d started out promising, the ending had ripped out her heart and torn it into tiny pieces.

  And it still lay broken.

  Sean’s blue eyes studied her as she thought through the emotional roller coaster she was still riding. He leaned toward her, his shoulder resting against hers.

  “Please, Darce. Can’t we just try? I miss you.”

  She closed her eyes as his soft, deep plea swam around in her ears. She tried not to think about how good it made her feel. She tried not to notice he wore her favorite cologne and that his shoulder was burning through her cotton shirt. She tried not to think about how much she missed him too.

  Damn Sean McKenna, his honeyed tongue, and his goddamn manly cologne.

  Chapter 17

  “Honestly, who wrote this shit?”

  Sean flipped back to the title page of the article. “‘Secret Diary of a Man’ by Steve McKnight. Jesus. I can tell you right now, Darce, don’t believe a word this guy says. It’s probably not even a guy. It’s probably some woman author with a guy pen name.”

  He shook his head and glanced over at Darcy. All he saw was her profile as she stared out the tiny plane window beside him, slowly pulling her dove necklace pendent along its gold chain. She hadn’t said a word in the last hour. In fact, she was pretty quiet the entire trip. Even when they were passing over the United Kingdom, she continued to stare out that window as if what she was looking at was so much more captivating than talking to him.

  He’d come on this trip for one sole purpo
se: get his best friend back.

  She was angry when she’d first seen him. He’d expected that. He considered it a step in the right direction. He could deal with her anger and her annoyance because that meant she was responding to him. He loved her snarky remarks and her jabs at his intelligence. At least she was talking to him instead of ignoring him like she had been doing for the past three weeks.

  Except over the last hour, she’d fallen back into whatever dark hole he was trying to pull her out of, and it made him uncomfortable. So to combat her cold shoulder, he talked to her. A lot.

  He practically read the entire article about what guys do to get ready for dates aloud to her. He asked her dumb questions about the different cosmetic junk the magazine was trying to push as the best fall buys at the local pharmacy. He had to come up with his own answers because each question was met with the same response. Silence.

  The pilot came on to announce their descent into London Heathrow. He hadn’t really thought much further than the getting-to-London part of his plan. They both were scheduled to return to Boston on Friday afternoon. That was two days away.

  He’d booked his flights to match hers. They both had individual meetings tomorrow with the Wellingtons, of that he was sure. He had no idea what Darcy’s plans were otherwise. He was going to have to start mapping out the rest of their visit if he was going to convince her that they were better off as friends than the strangers they’d been to each other recently.

  Shit, they’d be better off as lovers than strangers.

  Since seeing that lingerie article, it was all Sean could do not to picture Darcy in that black lacy bra-and-underwear set. God, she’d look amazing in something like that. Her creamy white skin pushing against the delicate thin lace. Her hardened nipples waiting just below the fabric of the bra, ready to spring free as he pulled the thin straps of the undergarment down over her smooth shoulders.

  Sean swallowed hard and shifted in his seat. The room in the front of his trousers was filling up, and that wasn’t what he needed right now. No, he needed to keep his eyes on the prize. And that prize was reassuring Darcy that they needed to get back to being friends again.

  “Listen to this, Darce. This idiot says that the first thing that guys notice about a woman is her eyes.” Sean huffed in amusement as he nudged Darcy with his elbow. “That’s a crock of shit. The first thing guys notice about a woman is her breasts.”

  “Hmph.” It was a disinterested sound, but at least she made some sort of response.

  “I mean, I hate to say it, but guys notice breasts and ass first depending on which way the woman is walking. It’s a fact.”

  Darcy bit into her bottom lip but didn’t respond. He watched her worry her lip with her teeth and felt himself fall into a little trance. He knew those lips were soft and pliable. He’d felt them against his own and various other parts of his body. His eyes slid down to where the fabric of her dress shirt was pulling against her buttons. Yes, men definitely noticed breasts first. Hers were in a league all their own.

  Why hadn’t he ever noticed them before? They were what every classical artist and sculptor should be using as a muse.

  Sean could have sworn the magazine resting in his lap shifted as all the blood in his body once again raced to his groin. He moved in his seat, tearing his hungry gaze away from Darcy’s assets, and slammed the magazine shut.

  Goddamn stupid magazine. No wonder he used to jack off to this type of shit when he was younger. He couldn’t get nudie magazines until he’d found Ewan’s stash in his room, which was midway through his teenage years. The next best thing had been his sister’s girly shit. His late-night masturbation sessions had gotten a lot better with their help.

  He’d never need another magazine again for the rest of his life to jack off. All he’d have to do is conjure up the memory of Darcy from the one evening they’d spent together, and he would get off in record time.

  Shaking his head to clear the image, he felt the pilot pull back on the throttle just before the plane’s back wheels touched down on the runway. It took no time at all for the plane to taxi to the gate, and as soon as the lights came on and the bell chimed, people were standing up and getting into the overhead compartments like it was a race.

  Standing slowly with his torso facing away from Darcy, Sean made sure his erection situation was under control before turning back toward her and extending his hand.

  “Want me to carry your bag?”

  “No, I’ll carry it,” she replied coolly.

  He allowed Darcy to step into the aisle ahead of him and followed her to the plane’s exit, all while trying desperately not to look at her ass. He hadn’t had the opportunity to get a good look at it when they’d gotten naked, but from the way it was nestled snugly in her black pencil skirt, he had no doubt that it would be just as marvelous as her breasts. If that was even possible.

  He had to kick it into third gear just to keep up with her on the way through immigration, baggage claim and through customs. She remained quiet, looking straight ahead the entire time as if Sean didn’t exist.

  “Have you stayed at the Apex London Wall Hotel before?” he asked her.

  She looked over at him and frowned.

  “How did you know I was staying there?”

  “Because your purchase order came across my desk for approval and you were very detailed in your travel plans,” he said, grinning back at her.

  “And let me guess. That’s where you’re staying?”

  “Why, yes, I am.” His grin turned into a laugh when she rolled her eyes dramatically.

  “Jesus Christ,” she muttered under her breath. He’d never noticed it before, but she was so cute when she got mad. Her eyes danced with fire, and there was a pink tint in the apples of her cheeks. It was much preferable to the Darcy statue he’d been trying to carry on a conversation with on the plane the entire way here.

  They stopped at baggage claim and collected their bags.

  “I suppose you want to share a cab to the hotel?” Darcy deadpanned.

  “I think that would be cost-effective, don’t you? In fact, we can share a cab tonight to dinner as well.”

  “Fat chance I’m having dinner with you. You can find your own goddamn dinner.” Darcy walked through the automatic door to the outside of the airport and turned toward the line for the taxi stand.

  “Didn’t you get the email from Wellington’s assistant? We’re having dinner with Hyde and his wife tonight.”

  She stopped suddenly and gawked at him. “What?”

  “You and me. Hyde and Rosalind. We’re meeting for dinner this evening.”

  Her lips moved silently as she blinked. “When?”

  “Half past seven.”

  “Where?”

  “I think the email said the Hawksmoor.”

  “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “Sure you do. What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

  Darcy held her arms out and looked down at her crisp white dress shirt tucked into her black skirt. “I can’t wear this to the Hawksmoor. Sean, you should have told me we were going there!”

  “Come on, Darce. It’s not the end of the world to show up at dinner wearing that. I think you look great.”

  She rolled her eyes and turned away from him as she stomped toward the taxi stand. She was gonna break her ankle once one of those sky-high heels she was wearing snapped like a twig with all the clomping around she was doing.

  And was he the only person in the world who didn’t have a clue what was appropriate to wear to the Hawksmoor? Was it well known or something?

  Once they got into the taxi and Sean gave the driver their destination, he settled back and regarded Darcy. She was huddled into the far corner of the back seat, her forehead resting against her fingertips as she pondered the wardrobe conundrum she was faced with.

  She didn’t just look good, she looked damn good. He would have told her that, but he had the distinct impression she was teetering on the edge of
losing it.

  They rode in silence to their hotel. Sean would have offered to take her shopping, but that was a hell he wasn’t prepared to enter, and besides, they didn’t have time. They had an hour to get to their hotel and get settled before leaving again for dinner.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  Sean looked over at Darcy, who was staring out the window. Her voice had been so soft that it was barely audible over the road noise.

  “Doing what?”

  “Forcing me to spend time with you.”

  He sighed. “I told you. I miss you, Darcy. I want us to go back to being friends. We’re not going to be able to do that until we talk about what happened and set it behind us.”

  She was quiet for a moment before she responded. “I’m not sure I’ll be ready for that conversation anytime soon.”

  “It’s just me, Darce. You don’t have to hide from me.”

  She turned her head, and he could see the furrow of her brow and the shadows in her gaze. “I have nothing left to hide. You’ve pretty much heard and seen it all. Now I’m just going for self-preservation.”

  He reached over and squeezed her hand where it rested in her lap. “Let me help you.”

  Her sudden vulnerability was killing him. He needed to know what had happened in her mind to make her come to the conclusion she needed to protect herself from him.

  “You and about as much whiskey as I can pour down my throat.”

  Then, like after a torrential downpour and the sun came out, the corners of her mouth pulled up. Not a lot but enough.

  Sean smiled back at her and gave her hand another squeeze before the car shifted as the driver pulled into the entrance of their hotel.

  ###

  Sean silently scowled at the douchebag maître d’ who was leading them toward the back of the restaurant. He'd expected a place like Hawksmoor to be a little classier and their employees to be a little less skeevy.

  The man's eyes had slinked down Darcy's figure like he was experiencing some sort of internal epileptic episode. It was only after Sean had cleared his throat rather loudly and told the fucker that they were there to meet Hyde Wellington that the prematurely balding man had snapped to attention and gotten his British ass in gear.