Page 12 of Miles & Mistletoe

Chapter Four

Stacia

Call me crazy but I was starting to believe that Ian Zerlinger had a romantic side. It had been a little over a week since our first outing. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he had a packed schedule. The man had been from New York to D.C. to Chicago all within the last week, and there weren’t any signs of his slowing down. Which meant there weren’t any signs of me slowing down.

Though all of the travel and social engagements seemed like a bit much, when I arrived early for the flight that would take us from Chicago to Atlanta, I was surprised to see one of the tables had already been set up with my favorite spiked eggnog and the delicious holiday chocolates I’d gushed over a couple of days earlier.

I looked from the table to the cockpit. “You did this?” I asked the pilot who stood at the front of the plane.

He shrugged. “I was tipped handsomely to set it up for you.”

Smiling, I turned back to the table. I reached for the card, picked it up, and read it out loud.

“You’ve worked hard this week. Take the flight off. I won’t tell. See you soon.”

I laughed. Though I was something of an escort for Ian, I was technically still working all of these flights as well. However, ever since that first flight, Ian never traveled with a group and he’d become extremely lax about having me actually work while we were flying.

I sat down in one of the leather seats of the plane and picked up one of the chocolates that were shaped like a Christmas tree, taking a bite and finishing it off with a sip of my favorite spiked eggnog. I stopped myself from taking another chocolate, not wanting to get overly indulgent with the sweets. After all, I had another engagement that evening at the Atlanta Aquarium … with Ian of course.

A smile touched my lips as I thought about Ian. We hadn’t kissed since that night in New York, but it felt as though Ian had let his guard down a little more with each passing day. And for the record, so had I, confessing to him that it was my mother who I’d been looking for a message from on Thanksgiving Day. She’d only sent the one text. She did call a couple of days later just as we were landing in Washington D.C. to check in on me and ask me about my Christmas plans.

Family can be worse than shit friends, had been Ian’s response.

I stood from the table and cleared the eggnog and chocolates, replacing them with the spring water that Ian preferred drinking while flying, to prepare for our flight.

“I thought I said you weren’t working this flight.”

Startled, I turned a bit too quickly at the sound of Ian’s voice only to stumble forward a little. I was caught by a strong arm around my waist. Inhaling, I braced my arm against his shoulder.

“Sorry.”

“I’m not complaining,” he replied as he stared down into my face. Our lips were inches apart. His gaze lingered on my lips for another few seconds. Unfortunately, just when I thought he would kiss me, Woody, our pilot, interrupted.

“We’ll be ready to takeoff in about ten minutes.”

Clearing my throat, I took a step back and straightened out my dress. “Thank you, Woody.

“I’m going to check to make sure all of the food is stocked. I can serve it once we reach flying altitude,” I commented, readying myself to walk off. But I was stopped by Ian’s large hand around my wrist.

“I meant what I said. You’re not working this flight. We had a late engagement last night and you had to be up early this morning. You can rest on this two hour flight. We have another dinner to attend tonight.”

“Ian—”

“Sit,” he ordered.

“I’m paid to work.”

“Who’ll know if you don’t work? I won’t complain. Actually, I take that back, I will complain if you don’t sit and keep me company on this flight.”

I put my hand on my hip and angled my head to the side. “You sure do like blackmailing me.”

Shrugging, he gave a half smile. “Whatever it takes.”

I shook my head, smiling in spite of my desire to appear angry.

“How was the eggnog?” he questioned as soon as I sat down. He sat directly across from me.

“Tasty as usual.”

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